The wonders of the world (part 5 of 5)
The interior presents a wilderness of columns, some of which are almost twelve feet in diameter at the base, and more than eight in the shaft. Fifty-two pillars, of the hight of eighty feet, support the pointed arches on which the roof rests. The exterior shows equally a wilderness of statues and pinnacles. Each pinnacle, if placed on the ground, would appear a considerable spire. The statues already in place number three thousand, and forty-live hundred are necessary to carry out the plan. Each pinnacle or minaret is crowned by a statue, and there are many more in the niches, among the pinnacles, as well as in other situations. In order to become acquainted with them, you must ascend to the roof, and then you will see life and meaning in them all; if seen from below, they appear indeed as a multitude of statues in marble, but without any obvious design. Whatever the moral may be, it is exhibited at an immense expense of treasure; but, in Italy, it is a national passion, which has come down to them from the Romans, to people their ideal world with marble forms, commemorating those who once lived on earth, or the imaginary beings of allegory and of a fabulous mythology. In this cathedral, in addition to statues of the size of life or beyond its dimensions, there are many of inferior magnitude: little pretty cherubs and imaginative beings are seen, single or in clusters. In all parts of the building, there are delicate and elaborately wrought carvings in marble, and even in situations where they can not be seen except by a diligent explorer. Ascending to the roof of the cathedral, and walking over it, the traveler will observe that it is composed of massive blocks of marble accurately adjusted to each other, and although the weight is immense, no cracks are visible. One moves as freely upon the roof, and with as much confidence as if a mountain of marble were beneath his feet; and the view from it is as glorious as it could be from a mountain rearing its lofty head in place of this structure reared by the art of man!
THE TOWER OF LONDON.
The Tower of London was anciently a palace occupied by the various sovereigns of England, till the reign of Queen Elizabeth. It was begun by William the Conqueror in 1073; and additions were made to it by several of the later monarchs. The extent within the walls is over twelve acres; and the exterior circuit of the ditch that surrounds it is over three thousand feet. A broad and handsome wharf, or gravel terrace, runs along the banks of the river parallel with the Tower, from which it is separated by the ditch.
Within the walls of the Tower are several streets; and a variety of buildings, the principal of which are, the church, the white tower, the ordnance office, the record office, the jewel office, the horse armory, the grand storehouse, the small armory, the houses belonging to the officers of the tower, barracks for the garrison, &c.
The white tower, which was the original building, is a large square structure, situated in the center of the fortress. On the top are four watch-towers, one of which, at present, is used as an observatory. It consists within of three lofty stories, beneath which are large, commodious vaults. In the first story are two grand rooms, one of which is a small armory for the sea-service, and contains various sorts of arms, curiously laid up, which would serve upward of ten thousand seamen. In the other rooms, in closets and presses, are abundance of warlike tools and instruments of death. In the upper stories, are arms and armorers’ tools. The models of all newly invented engines of destruction, which have been presented to the government, are preserved in this tower. On the top is a large cistern, filled from the Thames by a water-engine, to supply the garrison with water. The grand storehouse, which stands north of the white tower, is a plain building of brick and stone, three hundred and forty-five feet long and sixty feet broad. The jewel office is a little to the east of the grand storehouse. It is a dark and strong stone room. The horse armory is a brick building eastward of the white tower. The record office is in the Wakefield tower, opposite the platform. The rolls from the time of King John to the beginning of the reign of Richard III., are kept here in fifty-six wainscot presses. They contain the ancient tenures of land in England, the original laws and statutes, the rights of England to the dominion of the British seas, the forms of submission of the Scottish kings, and a variety of other records, &c. The principal entrance to the Tower is on the west. It consists of two gates on the outside of the ditch; a stone bridge built over the ditch, and a gate within the ditch. On the right hand, at the west entrance, the menagerie was formerly kept; but having been superseded by that belonging to the Zoölogical Society in the Regent’s park, it was broken up a few years ago. What was called the Spanish armory, contains the trophies of the famous victory of Queen Elizabeth over the Spanish armada. Among these the most remarkable are the thumb-screws, intended to be used to extort confession from the English where their money was hidden. In the same room are other curiosities; among which is the ax with which the unfortunate Anne Boleyn was beheaded, to gratify the capricious passions of her husband, Henry VIII. A representation of Queen Elizabeth in armor, standing by a cream-colored horse, attended by a page, is also shown in this room. Her majesty is dressed in the armor she wore at the time she addressed her army in the camp of Tilbury, 1588, with a white silk petticoat, ornamented with pearls and spangles.
The small armory is one of the finest rooms of its kind in Europe. It is three hundred and forty-five feet in length, and in general it contains complete stands of arms for no less than one hundred thousand men. They are disposed in a variety of figures, in a very elegant manner. Among them is a piece of ordnance from Egypt, sixteen feet long, and seven inches and a half bore. There are several other curiosities, among which are arms taken at various periods from rebels; the Highland broad-sword deserves particular notice. In many respects this room may be considered as one of the wonders of the modern world. The volunteer armory is in the white tower, and contains arms, piled in beautiful order, for thirty thousand men, with pikes, swords, &c., in immense numbers, arranged in stars and other devices. At the entrance of this room stands a fine figure of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk in the time of Henry VIII., in bright armor, and having the very lance he used in his lifetime, which is eighteen feet long. The sea armory is also in this tower, and contains arms for nearly fifty thousand sailors and marines. In this room are two elegant pieces of brass cannon, presented by the city of London to the Earl of Leicester, and various similar curiosities. Part of the royal train of artillery is kept on the ground-floor, under the small armory. The room is three hundred and eighty feet long, fifty feet wide, and twenty-four in hight. The artillery is ranged on each side, a passage ten feet in breadth being left in the center. In this room are twenty pillars that support the small armory above, which are hung round with implements of war, and trophies taken from the enemy. There are many peculiarly fine pieces of cannon to be seen here: one (of brass) is said to have cost two hundred pounds in ornamenting. It was made for Prince Henry, eldest son of James I. Others are extremely curious for their antiquity. Among them is one of the first invented cannon. It is formed of bars of iron hammered together, and bound with iron hoops. It has no carriage, but was moved by six rings, conveniently placed for that purpose. The horse armory is a noble room, crowded with curiosities. The armor of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and son of Edward III., is seven feet in hight. The sword and lance are of a proportionable size. A complete suit of armor, rough from the hammer, made for Henry VIII. when eighteen years old, is six feet high. The kings of England on horseback, are shown in armor, from the Conqueror to George II.
The jewel office contains: 1. The imperial crown, with which the kings of England are crowned. It is of gold, enriched with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires and pearls; within is a cap of purple velvet, lined with white taffeta, and turned up with three rows of ermine. This is never used but at coronations, and of course is not often produced. 2. The golden globe. This is put into the king’s right-hand before he is crowned; and when he is crowned, he bears it in his left-hand, having the scepter in his right. 3. The golden scepter and its cross, upon a large amethyst, decorated with table diamonds. 4. The ancient scepter, covered with jewels and Gothic enamel work, and surmounted with an onyx dove. This scepter is believed to be far the most ancient in the collection, and probably is a part of the original regalia. It was found by the keeper in 1814, exactly at the time of the general peace. It is estimated at a very high value. 5. St. Edward’s staff. It is four feet seven inches and a half long, and three inches and three-quarters round, made of beaten gold. It is borne before the king in the coronation procession. 6. The gold salt-cellar of state. In make it is the model of the square white tower, and is of excellent workmanship. At the coronation it is placed on the king’s table. 7. The sword of mercy. It has no point. 8. A grand silver font, used for christenings of the royal family. 9. The crown of state, which is worn by the sovereign at the meeting of parliament, and other state occasions. It is of extreme splendor and value, being covered with large-sized precious stones, and on the top of its cross is a pearl which Charles I. pledged to the Dutch republic for eighteen thousand pounds. Under the cross is an emerald diamond of a pale green color, seven inches and a half in circumference, and valued at one hundred thousand pounds; and in the front is a rock ruby, unpolished, in its purely natural state, three inches long, and the value of which can not be estimated. 10. The golden eagle, with which the king is anointed, and the golden spur. 11. The diadem, worn by the Queens Anne and Mary. 12. The crown of Queen Mary, the cross of King William, and many other valuable jewels. In this office are all the crown jewels worn by the princes and princesses at coronations, and abundance of curious old plate. Independently of several of the jewels which are inestimable, the value of the precious stones and plate contained in this office, is not less than two millions sterling. The chapel, situated at the north end of the parade, is not otherwise attractive, than as it contains a few ancient tombs and monuments.
THE BANK OF ENGLAND.
The building thus entitled is an immense and very extensive stone edifice, situated a little to the north-west of Cornhill. Until 1825, this edifice exhibited a great variety of incongruous styles of architecture; but endeavors have since been made, and with success, to produce more uniformity of appearance. On the east side of the principal entrance, is a passage leading to a spacious apartment called the rotunda, fifty-seven feet in diameter, in which business in the public funds is transacted; and, branching out of this apartment, are various offices appropriated to the management of each particular stock. In each of these, under the several letters of the alphabet, are arrayed the books in which the amount of every individual’s interest in such a fund is registered.
The bank of England covers an extent of more than eight acres, and is completely insulated. Its shape is that of an irregular parallelogram, the longest side of which measures four hundred and forty feet. Its exterior is not unsuitable to the nature of the establishment, conveying the idea of great strength and security. In the interior, a variety of alterations and improvements have been made to accommodate the vast increase of business and of the paper money and discounting systems. This has required considerable enlargements of the offices in every department, and has led, in the space of thirty or forty years, to the increase of the clerks from two hundred to about eleven hundred. The capital, or stock, also, of this grand national establishment, has been considerably and progressively augmented, until, from twelve hundred thousand pounds, it has risen to eleven million, six hundred and forty-seven thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds, or nearly sixty million dollars. The direction is vested in a governor, deputy-governor, and twenty-four directors, all elected annually; and thirteen of the directors, with the governor, form a court for the management of the business of the institution.
THE MONUMENT.
About two hundred yards north of London bridge, is situated one of the finest pillars in the world, erected by Sir Christopher Wren, in memory of the great fire, which, in 1666, broke out at a house on this spot, and destroyed the metropolis from the Tower to Temple Bar. It is a fluted column of the Doric order; its total hight is two hundred and two feet; the diameter at the base is fifteen feet; the hight of the column, one hundred and twenty feet; and the cone at the top, with its urn, forty-two feet. The hight of the massy pedestal is forty feet. Within the column is a flight of three hundred and forty-five steps; and from the iron balcony at the top is a most fascinating prospect of the metropolis and the adjacent country. It is impossible not to lament the obscure situation of this beautiful monument, which, in a proper place, would form one of the most striking objects of the kind that architecture is capable of producing.
THE LOUVRE.
This splendid palace, which was planned in the reign of Francis I., at the commencement of the sixteenth century, is a quadrangular edifice, having a court in the center, and forming a square of about four hundred and sixteen English feet. The front was built in the reign of Louis XIV., and is one of the most beautiful monuments of his reign. A spacious gallery, fourteen hundred and fifty English feet in length, connects this palace with that of the Tuilleries. Here was displayed, under the title of the Musee Napoleon, that inestimable collection of paintings, one thousand and thirty in number, consisting of the chefs-d’œuvre of the great masters of antiquity, and constituting a treasury of human art and genius, far surpassing every other similar institution. The ante-room leading to the gallery contained several exquisite paintings, the fruits of the triumphs of Bonaparte, or which had been presented to him by the sovereigns who had cultivated his alliance. This apartment was styled by the Parisians the Nosegay of Bonaparte: its most costly pictures were from the gallery of the Grand Duke of Tuscany; and to these were added a selection from those procured at Venice, Naples, Turin and Bologna.
It would be impossible adequately to describe the first impressions made on the spectator on his entrance into the gallery, where such a galaxy of genius and art was offered to his contemplation. It was lined by the finest productions of the French, Flemish and Italian schools, and divided by a curious double painting upon slate, placed on a pedestal in the middle of the room, representing the front and back views of the same figures. From the Museum the visitor descends into the Salle des Antiques, containing the finest treasures of Grecian and Roman statuary. His notice is instantly attracted by the Belvidere Apollo, a statue surpassing, in the opinion of connoisseurs, all the others in the collection. This matchless statue is thus described by Sir John Carr, in his work entitled “The Stranger in France.” “All the divinity of a god beams through this unrivaled perfection of form. It is impossible to impart the impressions which it inspires: the riveted beholder is ready to exclaim with Adam, when he first discerns the approach of Raphael:
“‘Behold what glorious shape Comes this way moving: seems another morn Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from heaven.’
“The imagination can not form such an union of grace and strength. One of its many transcendent beauties consists in its aerial appearance and exquisite expression of motion.” The Medicean Venus, from the palace Pitti, at Florence, also formed a part of this magnificent collection of statues. The classic Addison, in speaking of this statue, which he saw at Florence, observes, that it appeared to him much less than life, in consequence of its being in the company of others of a larger size; but that it is, notwithstanding, as large as the ordinary size of women, as he concluded from the measure of the wrist; since, in a figure of such nice proportions, from the size of any one part it is easy to guess at that of the others. The fine polish of the marble, communicating to the touch a sensation of fleshy softness, the delicacy of the shape, air and posture, and the correctness of design, in this celebrated statue, are not to be expressed.
The Paris museum, and Salle des Antiques, although deprived, at the termination of the contest with France, of so many chefs-d’œuvre of art, still contain others which render them highly interesting. The finest productions of Le Brun, several of them on an immense scale, still remain; as do likewise the matchless marine paintings by Vernet; the truly sublime works of Poussin, consisting of the chief of his masterpieces; together with many choice paintings by Rubens, Wouvermans, De Witte, &c. Many of the statues remaining in the Salle des Antiques are likewise admirable specimens of sculpture. In the gallery of the Louvre a very curious collection of models, representing the fortresses of France and other countries, was once exhibited; but it was removed, that the paintings might be seen with greater effect. These models, executed in the reign of Louis XIV., and amounting to upward of one hundred and eighty, were wrought with the greatest accuracy, and so naturally, as to represent the several cities which they describe, with their streets, houses, squares and churches, together with the works, moats, bridges and rivers, not neglecting the adjacent territory, as consisting of plains, mountains, corn-lands, meadows, gardens, woods, &c. Several of these models were so contrived as to be taken in pieces, so that the curious observer might be better able to perceive their admirable construction.
Of this splendid building and gallery, Silliman, in his late tour, says, “A mere catalogue of the objects in the Louvre, with the most brief description, would swell to a volume. The building forms part of a vast unfinished quadrangle, upon the usual plan of ancient castles and palaces. In various stages of its progress, during many centuries, it has been used both as a castle and a palace. From its windows, or from the windows of a building occupying the same place, the infamous Charles IX. fired upon his Protestant subjects during the massacre of St. Bartholomew, August twenty-fourth, 1572, crying, with the voice of a fiend, ‘Kill! kill!!’
“The Louvre, as a grand museum of the arts, is indebted chiefly to Napoleon and Louis Philippe. Even as late as the reign of Louis XVI., the greater part of the Louvre remained without a roof. The magnificent bronze gates are due to Napoleon. He and Louis Philippe did more for the embellishment of Paris than any monarch, except Louis XIV. Had we seen the Louvre when we were first in Paris, it would have made a much stronger impression than now; and this remark can be, in a degree, extended to all its various contents, whether statues, ancient or modern, antiquities of various ages and nations, Egyptian, Assyrian, Etruscan, Grecian, Roman, Mexican, or Peruvian, or of whatever name. Exquisite objects, in curious arts, may be included—cameos, gems, crystal vessels, and ornaments. Even at this late period of our tour, the Louvre has, however, made a very strong impression. It is a glorious spectacle: there is no museum that can compare with it, except that of the Vatican. The British museum is not a fair subject of comparison with either of these, as its plan and main objects are different. The Louvre is strictly a museum of the fine arts and of antiquities. Libraries it has not, nor does it include natural history, which is so abundantly illustrated at the Garden of Plants, and in the other excellent institutions in Paris. That hall of the Louvre which is called the long gallery is thirteen hundred and thirty-two feet in length, over a quarter of a mile, and forty-two feet wide, all seen in one view. The walls are entirely covered by pictures, amounting in the aggregate to fourteen hundred and eight, of which three hundred and eighty are French, five hundred and forty are Flemish and German, four hundred and eighty are Italian, and eight are modern copies of ancient pictures. Only the works of deceased artists are admitted into this museum, which was formed principally by Napoleon, and enriched with most of the chefs-d’œuvre of Europe. The greater part of those foreign pictures were claimed and removed by the allies in 1815; but they are hardly missed; for, even now, this gallery is one of the finest in the world.
“I have already had occasion to remark that in our tour we have seen a number of pictures and statues in various cities, particularly in Italy, which, having traveled to Paris, were restored after the Russian campaign and the battle of Waterloo. There were, however, so many fine things left behind in the different galleries from which those pictures had been taken, that the omission would hardly be noticed there, any more than their absence from the Louvre is observed now, except by a few scrutinizing artists and connoisseurs. In despair of making any progress in this vast collection, I shall not even attempt to describe any particular pictures, and thus I must pass by the grandest gallery perhaps in the world, because I can not do it any justice, and for a still worse reason, because so many galleries of less importance have been visited first. The room called Salle de Bijoux is very rich in the rare and costly things which kings are wont to collect, and which are here so numerous and beautiful that they surpass the similar collections in the Pitti palace in Florence, but they are inferior in splendor and magnificence to those we had lately seen at Dresden. There is here, however, a profusion of gems, diamonds, sapphires, rubies, &c.; and the vessels fabricated from rock crystal are numerous, large and splendid. The Egyptian museum is particularly rich in everything which illustrates the history and manners of that country. The gallery of ancient statuary, and of modern copies, is so similar to what we have seen in Italy, that I will not enter into particulars. There is nothing here more surprising than the stupendous sculptured stones from Nineveh, sent out by M. Botta, the French consul. They are not so numerous as in the collection which we saw in the British museum, but there are figures here which surpass in magnitude any that are there; at least such is my recollection. The winged bulls, with a lion’s head, and the figures on the reverse of the stone panels, are of such vast size, that we are astonished that they could have been transported without injury from the other side of the world. A tall man is a dwarf by their side.”
THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
This grand national collection of antiquities, books and natural curiosities, is placed in the noble house formerly belonging to the Duke of Montagu, in Great Russell street, Bloomsbury. It is a stately edifice, in the French style of the reign of Louis XIV., and on the plan of the Tuilleries. The celebrated French architect, Peter Paget, was sent over from Paris, by Ralph, first Duke of Montagu, expressly to construct this splendid mansion, which is, perhaps, better calculated for its present purpose than for a private residence.
The British museum was established by act of parliament, in 1753, in consequence of the will of Sir Hans Sloane, who left his museum to the nation, which he declared in his will, cost him upward of fifty thousand pounds, on condition that parliament should pay twenty thousand pounds to his executors, and purchase a house sufficiently commodious for it. The parliament acted with great liberality on this occasion; several other valuable collections were united to this of Sir Hans Sloane, and the whole establishment completed for the sum of eighty-five thousand pounds, which was raised by the way of a lottery. Parliament afterward added, at various times, to the Sloanean museum, the Cottonian library; that of Major Edwards; the Harleian collection of manuscripts; Sir William Hamilton’s invaluable collection of Greek vases; the Townleian collection of antique marbles; the manuscripts of the Marquis of Lansdowne; and, lastly, the celebrated Elgin marbles, which comprise what are considered as the finest specimens of ancient sculpture. The whole of the important library of printed books and manuscripts which had been gradually collected by the kings of England from Henry VIII. to William III., was presented to the museum by George II.; and George III. bestowed on it a numerous collection of valuable pamphlets, which had been published in the interval between 1640 and 1660. His majesty likewise contributed the two finest mummies in Europe; the sum of eleven hundred and twenty-three pounds, arising from lottery prizes, which had belonged to his royal predecessor; and, in 1772, a complete set of the journals of the lords and commons. To these contributions he afterward added a collection of natural and artificial curiosities, sent to him, in 1796, by Mr. Menzies, from the north-west coast of America, and several single books of great value and utility. The trustees have at various times added Greenwood’s collection of stuffed birds; Hatchet’s minerals; Halhed’s oriental manuscripts; Tyssen’s collection of Saxon coins; Doctor Bentley’s classics; and the Greville collection of minerals. To these may be added numerous donations from several of the sovereigns of Europe, as well as from learned bodies and private individuals, including the splendid monuments from Nineveh, and other wonderful and curious contributions that will be mentioned.
The building itself is a spacious quadrangle of some two thousand feet, or nearly two-fifths of a mile in circuit, occupying a large part of Great Russel square; and even now, greatly enlarged as it has been, it is quite inadequate for the growing demands for space in all departments. The ground-floor consists of twelve main rooms, and contains the library of printed books. The first room of the upper story contains modern works of art from all parts of the world, arranged in cases. In the one in the center are several beautiful miniatures, among which are those of Sir Thomas More, Charles I., and Oliver Cromwell, the latter having his watch placed by its side. Two curious portraits of William III. and Queen Mary, are carved on two walnut-shells. In the presses are arranged, in geographical order, some fine specimens of China, and a variety of implements of war from different quarters of the globe. Here is to be seen the rich collection of curiosities from the South Pacific ocean, brought by Captain Cook. In the left corner is the mourning dress of an Otaheitan lady, in which taste and barbarity are singularly blended; and opposite, are the rich cloaks and helmets of feathers from the Sandwich islands. Among these is one, which, in elegance of form, vies even with the Grecian helmets. In another case are the cava bowls, and above them battoons, and other weapons of war. The next objects of attention are the idols of the different islands, presenting in their hideous rudeness, a singular contrast with many of the works of art formed by the same people; near these are the drums and other instruments of music, and a breast-plate from the Friendly islands. The ceiling of this room, or vestibule, represents the fall of Phæton.
The second room consists of similar objects. The third is devoted to the Lansdowne collection of manuscripts, which have been handsomely bound and lettered. In the fourth are the Sloanean and Birchean collections of manuscripts. The fifth contains part of the Harleian library of manuscripts, and the sixth, the first part of the same, and additions made since the establishment of the museum. The seventh is appropriated to the royal and Cottonian library of manuscripts. On a table, in a glazed frame, is the original of the Magna Charta, belonging to the Cottonian library. Against the press, number twenty-one, of the Cottonian collection, is the original of the articles preparatory to the signing of the great charter, perfect, with the seal. The magnificent saloon is filled with the Greville collection of minerals, the finest in the world, admirably arranged, and luminously colored. The dome of this saloon merits notice. It was painted by La Fosse, and has been described as the apotheosis of Iris, or birth of Minerva. In the middle of the window stands a table, composed of a variety of lavas from Mount Vesuvius, presented by the Earl of Exeter. The eighth room contains a department of natural history, part of which is the valuable donation of Mr. Cracherode, disposed in two tables, nearly in the Linnæan order; and a much more extensive series, arranged according to the Wernerian system. The principal productions are very valuable, consisting of minerals from Derbyshire, Siberia, the South seas, volcanic and rock stones from Germany, &c. One very curious specimen of natural history is pointed out in the fifth division of the Cracherodean collection, an egg-shaped piece of chalcedony, containing water, which may be seen by gently shaking the vase. Here, also, in a glass case, is the famous fossil skeleton from Gaudaloupe, which has been the object of much interesting controversy among eminent naturalists. The ninth is appropriated to petrifactions and shells. In the first division of the cases in the middle of the room, is a valuable univalve shell, of the species called the paper nautilus, or argonaut shells, remarkable for the slightness of its fabric, and the elegance of its shape. It is inhabited by an animal not unlike a cuttle-fish, which by extending a pair of membranes, adhering to the top of its longest arms, has the power of sailing on the surface of the sea. Under the tables are deposited, in this and the next room, a great number of volumes and parcels, containing collections of dried plants; which, from the fragile nature of their contents, are shown only on particular leave. The tenth room is entirely filled with vegetable productions, zoöphytes, sponges, &c. The contents of the eleventh room are birds, and arranged as far as convenience would admit, according to the Linnæan system. Among the curious specimens of ornithology is a humming-bird, scarcely larger than a bee; also another beautiful little creature called the harlequin humming-bird, from the variety of its colors. In this room there is a curious picture, executed many years ago in Holland, of that extremely rare and curious bird, the dodo, belonging to the tribe gallinæ. In the table in the middle are preserved the nests of several birds, among the most curious of which are several hanging nests, chiefly formed by birds of the oriole tribe; nests of a substance resembling isinglass, which the Chinese make into a rich soup; scarce feathers, &c. In the second table are deposited a variety of eggs and nests: among the former may be noticed the eggs of the ostrich, the cassowary, the crocodile, &c. In the cases between the windows are several of the rarer quadrupeds; among these the most curious are, two orang-outangs, in a young state, a long-tailed macauco, ermine, &c.; in cases under the tables are an armadillo, or porcupine, several young sloths, and a fine specimen of the two-toed ant-eater. The twelfth room contains a general and extensive arrangement of fishes, serpents, lizards, frogs, &c.
The Townley marbles and Egyptian antiquities, are deposited in a very elegant suite of rooms built purposely for them. The first room is devoted to a collection of bass-reliefs, in terra cotta, pronounced the finest in Europe. The second is a beautiful circular room, whence you have a fine view of the whole suite of apartments, bounded at the end by an exquisitely-wrought discobolon, or ancient quoit-player. This room is devoted to Greek and Roman sculptures, among which may be pointed out a fine candelabrum, with several beautiful busts and statues. The third and fourth rooms are also filled with Greek and Roman sculptures: in the latter are several fine bass-reliefs. The fifth contains a collection of Roman sepulchral monuments, and a beautiful mosaic pavement, discovered in digging the foundations for a new building at the bank of England. The sixth exhibits a miscellaneous collection of one hundred grand pieces of Roman and Greek sculpture. The seventh is devoted to Roman antiquities, and the eighth, on the left, to Egyptian antiquities, among which are the two mummies before mentioned, with their coffins; a manuscript, or papyrus, taken from a mummy, &c. Among the Egyptian sculptures in the ninth room, is the celebrated sarcophagus, commonly called the tomb of Alexander the Great, an engraving and dissertation on which appeared in the Monthly Magazine for February, 1809. The tenth contains Greek and Roman sculptures of singular beauty.
Thence returning, and proceeding up stairs, the visitor is conducted to the eleventh room, containing ancient and modern coins and medals, arranged in geographical order, those of each country being kept separate. It is not shown unless by the permission of the trustees, or of the principal librarian. Not more than two persons are admitted at one time, without the presence of the principal librarian, or of some other officer. The twelfth room contains the collection of the late Sir William Hamilton, which has been removed from the saloon. It principally consists of penates, or household gods, bronze vessels, utensils, &c., specimens of ancient glass, necklaces, bullæ, fragments of relievos, and ancient armor, tripods, knives, patent lamps, seals, weights, sculpture in ivory, bracelets, bits, spurs, ancient paintings from Herculaneum, Babylonish bricks, and his unrivaled collection of Greek vases, the greater part of which were found in the sepulchers of Magna Grecia. The forms of the vases are much varied, and are equally simple and beautiful. In the thirteenth is deposited the extensive and valuable collection of prints and drawings, the most important part of which was bequeathed by the Rev. William Cracherode. The contents of this room can be seen only by a few persons at a time, by particular permission.
In addition to the various curiosities enumerated above, Professor Silliman mentions many others which have been contributed to the museum more recently; and more fully describes some already noticed. “Here,” he says, “is a rich collection of Etruscan vases, from the cemeteries of the ancient inhabitants of Italy, who preceded the Roman empire. A part of this collection was deposited by the Prince de Canino, son of Lucien Bonaparte. The Maltese are now the only people who fabricate ware like the ancient Etruscan. Through the kindness of a gentleman attached to the museum, we were permitted to see the original Portland vase. It is of moderate dimensions. The material, contrary to my former impression, is glass, and not earthen-ware. The basis was dark blue, almost black, and in the manner of the modern Bohemian glass, it appears to have been dipped into a semi-transparent white enamel, which gave it an exterior coating of that color. This was then cut away, so as to leave the exquisitely wrought figures of the human form by which it is adorned. It was successfully imitated by the late Mr. Wedgwood, in his peculiar porcelain, but it has never been surpassed in beauty of model, or in the perfection of its decorations. Mr. Wedgwood’s copies cost fifty pounds each, which, even with a large subscription, did not reimburse him. Mr. Webber, the artist, received fifty pounds for modeling it. The original was discovered in the tomb of Alexander Severus, who died as early as the year 235, and the Duchess of Portland paid one thousand guineas for it; hence it was called the Portland vase. It will appear incredible that any one should be willing to destroy such a gem of art; still, a few years ago, a man who was believed to be either drunk or insane, (very probably both,) hurled a stone at it, and shivered the beautiful antique into fragments. A fac-simile of the vase, as it lay in ruins, is preserved in a glazed frame in the room. But by great care and skill, the fragments have been reunited, and cemented together, so that the joinings can be perceived only by a near approach. The culprit was imprisoned for two years; and a law being afterward made to fit such cases, (ex post facto, perhaps,) he is, I believe, not yet liberated, and, certainly, ought not to be, without satisfactory evidence of a sounder state of mind. In the same room with the Portland vase is a rich collection of antique ornaments in gold. They are personal ornaments, Etruscan, Roman, British, Saxon, Norman, Scotch and Irish. Among them are elegant forms, rings, bracelets, girdles, tiaras, brooches, &c. They are in appearance as rich and bright as if made yesterday; and evince that in ages long past, both the value of gold and the manner of working it were well understood. Some of these things were found in graves, some in morasses, and, probably, some on battle-fields.
“Here, also, we saw the colossal monuments of stone, disinterred by the labors of Mr. Layard, and brought from ancient Nineveh. The bull and the lion, each with the wings of an eagle, and the face of a man, symbolical of strength, courage, speed and intelligence, are at present in the lower room, along with the two gigantic figures in human form, each being originally divided transversely above the waist. It is now intended to reunite them, when the Nineveh figures receive their final position in the museum. These stupendous pieces of primeval sculpture fill the observer with astonishment, both that they could ever have been constructed, and that they should ever have been extricated from their long-forgotten sepulchers, and transported, without the slightest injury, from a position far inland, across wide oceans, to this distant country, which did not begin to emerge from barbarism until ages after the very site of Nineveh had passed into oblivion. These colossal forms are so vast in their dimensions, that man, by the side of them, appears a pigmy; and still they were shaped by human hands, which for thousands of years have crumbled into dust, while their works remain fresh and perfect as when first finished by the chisel of the now long-forgotten artist. Our polite conductor also accompanied us to a lower room, in which are stored a great number of the alabaster panels of Nineveh. They are very large, and are covered by figures in relief, bold and perfect; scenes of war and of peace, figures of master and servant, of monarch and subject, of warrior and soldier, and of victor and prisoner. In fact, they are exactly such figures as are represented in the published volumes of Mr. Layard, the illustrations in which are in no degree exaggerated, but, on the contrary, the figures are copied with the most scrupulous exactness. A hall is in preparation for these precious relics of an age coeval with the dawn of art and civilization, and of which, as extended to our time, the entire Christian era forms but an integral part. At first view, it appears very surprising that they have escaped through thirty or forty centuries without injury; and this is the more remarkable, as they are composed of so soft a material as alabaster. It would certainly have been worn and corroded by the hand of time had it not been protected by the mildness of the climate, and still more by the position of these sculptures, cut off from the atmosphere, and buried in the crumbled and dry earth of the buildings when they were destroyed.”
The collection of minerals, &c., Silliman goes on to say, is arranged in sixty cases in four rooms. And here is the fossil woman of Gaudaloupe, a skeleton both headless and footless, but having ribs, spine, limbs, &c., so complete as to show beyond doubt that once it belonged to a living woman; and with it there were found numerous other human bodies as well as utensils, rude weapons, &c. Here, too, are the remains of the enormous lizards of geological antiquity. “The fossil saurians, in the collection of Mr. Hawkins,” says the writer just quoted, “purchased by the museum, were skeletons of ichthyosauri, plesiosauri, and other forms of reptilian life. There is a perfect fossil skeleton of the ichthyosaurus, which I measured. It is fully twenty feet long; and there is beneath it a series of vertebræ of another individual, doubly cup-shaped, like the vertebræ of fishes. They seem to be all present, and must have belonged to an animal still larger than the one which I have named. The figures of these ancient distinct races are now familiar in our elementary books, and I shall not enter into any minute details. Most of the fossil saurians were marine. They appeared soon after the period of the coal formation, and were continued to that of the chalk. A miniature lizard has been recently found in the old-red-sandstone.
“The collection in the British museum is appalling. It fills one with astonishment, as we here contemplate the indubitable remains of an age gone by, never to return. Still more astonishing are the reptilian remains, brought to light chiefly by the researches of Dr. Mantell, aided by Dr. Buckland and other coadjutors. But to Dr. Mantell solely belongs the credit of having established the existence of several families of land lizards, whose magnitude far exceeds that of the marine saurians. The bones of the iguanodon, of the hylæosaurus, and pelorosaurus, are colossal—equal to those of the largest elephants, and in some individuals even surpassing them, while their length, in some instances, was equal to that of the longest whales. The form of their teeth, and the hollow condition of their bones, with a large canal for marrow, prove that their habits were those of terrestrial animals; while the form of the teeth, and the solid condition of the bones of the saurians, before named, adapt them to a marine life; since the buoyancy derived from the sustaining power of the water would enable them to swim with this additional weight. The bones of these land lizards discovered by Dr. Mantell, and now in the museum, with those in his own house, studied and disposed of anatomically, by his skill in comparative anatomy, and in the general principles of physiology, prove the existence of these giants of antiquity, which were not carnivorous, but were vegetable eaters, in a climate capable of producing a tropical vegetation, which then existed both in England and on the European continent, and probably pervaded, more or less, the entire planet. Dr. Mantell’s original memoirs and published volumes must be consulted for the proofs of these positions, and for the details of anatomical structure. He was with me in my last visit to the museum, and gave additional explanations on the grand fossils deposited there, especially those of his own gathering, and also on those obtained by Mr. Hawkins, of Gloucester. Both collections relate chiefly to the extinct colossal lizards of the gone-by geological ages. The immense collection of fossils from the Himalaya mountains also passed under review. They have added much to our knowledge of zoölogical antiquity. Dr. Buckland discovered near Oxford the bones of a large carnivorous reptile, the megalosaurus, which approximated toward the magnitude of the lizards of Dr. Mantell.”
MADAME TUSSEAU’S MUSEUM.
This museum consists of a celebrated collection of wax figures, which “enjoys a high and deserved reputation,” says Silliman; and which, he adds, “is the only one of the kind from which I have ever received any pleasure.” “There are three successive rooms,” he continues, “in which are seen a great number of personages in costume, and in natural and characteristic positions in relation to each other. In the vestibule the visitor passes through groups of marble statues, such as may be seen in many other places. On entering the first room of the museum, exactly at the door, and sitting in a chair, a pleasant looking young Chinese, a door-keeper, as I supposed, almost spoke to me, and I did quite speak to him, so lifelike was he; but as he seemed not to understand English, we passed on. The next personage, in the right corner of the room, was a well dressed gentleman, whom I for the moment mistook for a living Englishman; he looked so very affable, that I took him for an official, and was about to make an inquiry of him, when I perceived that he too belonged to the deaf mutes. Next came those to whom I must not speak, the queen with Prince Albert, and four of their sweet children, mounted on an elevated platform. The likenesses are so striking, judging from pictures, statues and information, (for I have not seen them,) that the royal personages might be readily recognized by one who knew them; for, as seen here, they are all but speaking, and moving, and breathing.
“Although no figures in these rooms spoke, three gave signs of life. One, a Chinese lady in a rich oriental dress, was standing on her little feet, by her husband, while he, a Hong merchant, in splendid attire, was listening to some communication from her; and although we could not hear what she said, she gave effect to her address by an earnest look and by a gentle movement of her head. Another lady, Madame —--, afterward a victim of Robespierre’s cruelty, because she indignantly refused to become the victim of his lust, lies asleep on her couch in her day dress, probably in prison prior to her execution. She breathes, and her bust, with her dress, rises and falls so naturally with the respiration, that you instinctively move softly, lest she should be disturbed in her slumber. In these rooms are seen imposing occasions of state. The queen, in another scene than which has been named, with her family, is surrounded by her ministers, bishops, and lords and ladies, and by courtiers, and generals, and foreign embassadors; (I blend two of these scenes into one;) all are in full court-dress, in magnificent robes, and sparkling with factitious diamonds. The illusion is so complete, that were an observer introduced suddenly into the scene, without an intimation of the deception, he would be startled at finding himself in such company.
“Hundreds of the most eminent persons, both of the living and the dead, are here, and the likenesses are so good that I readily recognized several, either of those whom I had seen when living, (e. g., George III., Pitt, and Fox,) or whose pictures or busts were familiar, (Voltaire, Sir. W. Scott, and Washington.) Calvin, Luther and John Knox are in one group, and the latter is addressing Queen Mary of Scotland, on whom he seems not likely to make any more impression now than he did of yore. I might multiply these instances. Napoleon and his marshals; Louis XVI. and his children and sister; Louis Philippe and his family; Queen Elizabeth and her courtiers; Anne Boleyn and her bloody husband; Charles I. and II., the former listening to a talk from Cromwell; James I. and II.; the royal dukes, sons of George III.; Lord Wellington; Lord John Russell; Admiral Napier, of Acre memory; and many, many more. Pictures of eminent persons and of interesting scenes are hung all around the lofty rooms, which are gilded and adorned in the manner of a palace. A throng of visitors were in the apartments, but from their dress and appearance, it was obvious that they belonged not to the upper ten thousand, but to the lower million, and most of them were probably of that class, who, having been drawn to London by the great exhibition, take the opportunity to see other wonders of the great metropolis, and we were pleased that they could be thus gratified.
“Passing the room of horrors, (that is of murders and executions,) where an additional sixpence is demanded for the pleasure of seeing what all should desire to avoid, we entered a room called the hall of Napoleon, occupied chiefly by relics of that great captain and emperor, who made such an impression on the age in which he lived, that his name and his deeds—the deeds of more than twenty years of sanguinary conflict, with only short interludes of repose—are now enrolled in history, and will go down to the end of time. The relics here preserved are personal articles, which once belonged to him. His own hair is inclosed in the same locket with that of his son, the Duke of Reichstadt. There is the sword of the Egyptian campaign, which was waved in many a bloody battle. Here are the more harmless utensils of his table; but the most conspicuous things are his carriages, three in number. In one of these he made his excursions from Longwood, in St. Helena, to the boundaries of that small island, rough with volcanic rocks. This carriage is a plain yellow barouche, with nothing peculiar in its appearance. His common or usual traveling carriage was in the post-chaise form, with inside seats for only two persons, and there is a low division between them. His iron bedstead was folded like the legs of a grasshopper, packed in a case, and hung beneath the coachman’s seat. Inside of the carriage is a writing-desk, which can be drawn out at pleasure, to accommodate the traveler; and it still retained its connection with the front of the carriage. There is a movable board, which answered for a table; and a door opens in front, beneath the writing-desk, to afford room for the limbs when the traveler wishes to sleep. The bedstead might perhaps admit of a partial contraction, so as to be placed in the carriage, in front of the seat, as a support, or there might have been some other contrivance for this purpose. This carriage is said to be lined with concealed iron plates, to afford protection against the bullets of assassins. That found on the field of Waterloo is yellow, and the paint and varnish, have come off in certain places, so that it is defaced in appearance. This latter carriage is a common coach with two seats, the front seat, as usual, reversed; but there is nothing peculiar in its appearance or conveniences, and it was probably taken in haste after the return from Elba; for the hundred days included Napoleon’s hegira, his brief sway in Paris, and his downfall at Waterloo, and to that fatal field he rode in this carriage. But the most interesting relic is the bed on which the fallen emperor died. We were assured that it was the very bed and bedstead of St. Helena, and that it was the camp establishment of his campaigns.”
THE PALACE OF BLENHEIM.
The palace of the famous Duke of Marlborough, presented to him by the nation, in honor of his services, is not far from Oxford, in England. This magnificent structure has often been described, and recently by Silliman in his “Visit to Europe.” “We entered,” he says, “by the splendid portal erected to the memory of her husband by the surviving Duchess of Marlborough. The palace is situated on a plain in the midst of an extensive domain, eleven miles in circuit, laid out in the finest style of an English park. There are twenty-five hundred acres covered with the richest verdure, including a beautiful lake, from which large pike are obtained. The palace is an immense structure, and has been greatly improved by the present duke, who, it is said, has recently expended eighty thousand pounds upon the establishment. It is in vain to attempt a detailed description. The north front measures three hundred and eighty-four feet from one wing to the other. We were courteously conducted through the palace by a man of good appearance, and of civil but formal manners. He was dressed in black: you would take him for a gentleman, and feel that it would be improper to offer him money, but he took it from our party. We were taken through one splendid room after another, until it would seem as if there would be no end of them. They were generally lofty, apparently twenty to twenty-five feet high, and ornamented with rich ceilings, gilding, and fresco paintings. The principal apartments are the hall, the bow-window room, the state bedroom, the billiard-room, the breakfast-room, the grand cabinet, the small drawing-room, the great drawing-room, the dining-room, the saloon, the green drawing-room, the state drawing-room, the crimson drawing-room, the library, the chapel, and the Titian room. This palace had no appearance of being the comfortable home of the family, who, it is said, keep it up out of regard to the glory of their great ancestor; but that they are too poor to live in it in a style of appropriate magnificence. The gardens or pleasure grounds, and the private grounds, were not visible.
“The pictures in this palace are numerous, and many of them are admirable. Vandyke, Sir Godfrey Kneller, Rubens, Holbein, Paul Veronese, Leonardi da Vinci, Reynolds, Poussin, Carlo Dolci, Corregio, Rembrandt, Teniers, Titian, and other eminent artists, by mental creations, contributed the living glowing images of their own minds, or transferred living features to the canvas. Many very beautiful and lovely women and princely men look down upon the observer from these animated and eloquent walls; for the palace is, in fact, an immense gallery of pictures, divided among many rooms. The victories of the Duke of Marlborough are displayed in Antwerp tapestry upon the walls of several of the apartments. The tapestry pictures are of great size: a single picture covers a side, sometimes two sides of a large room; so that there is space to exhibit also the scenery of the country; there is room also for portraits of the principal officers, as large as life—of the duke himself, and even of the horses; and near or remote, the hostile armies are lingering on the fearful edge of battle, or they are actually engaged in deadly combat. How touching the reflection, how sad the remembrance, that, excepting the present duke and his family, only one individual of all the vast number of human beings represented by these pictures survives. One that appears as a little child in a large family group, is now the aged grandmother of a distinguished peer. All the rest have passed away, and the great Marlborough himself, and his proud, aspiring duchess, lie under the marble pavement of the chapel in the palace, as Louis XIV., the Grand, reposes in his own tomb, and Queen Anne in hers; and all the sanguinary conflicts of that eventful period are now to be found in history alone. War, by a spirit of chivalry, was then a kind of duel on a great scale; it is said that military courtesy sometimes offered the first fire to the enemy; and a similar offer being made in return, they thus bandied compliments as if in sport, when they knew that the first fire would lay many a gallant soldier low.
“One room is one hundred and eighty-three feet in length, and contains the ducal library, consisting of seventeen thousand volumes. They are protected by a wire netting in front. At the upper end of the library is a fine marble statue of Queen Anne, which cost five thousand guineas. This palace, like most of the ancient public structures in England constructed of oölite, is externally much corroded by time. These immense establishments are, of course, very expensive in repairs, in embellishments, in service, and in many other ways; but they bring no income; nor, in general, does the vast domain which surrounds the palace. If kept in high order, as they generally are, they require a great number of laborers, especially in the horticultural department; and for all this there is little or no return, unless it may be something toward supplies of food for the household. There is at Blenheim a column or obelisk to the memory of the Duke of Marlborough, which is one hundred and thirty-four feet high, crowned with a statue in Roman dress. The gallery of Titian is secluded in a separate building, and for reasons obvious to those who have seen it, is exhibited in a more reserved manner to artists and amateurs.”
THE PALACE OF VERSAILLES.
This splendid palace was founded by Louis XIV. “A building on this ground,” says a late tourist, “had been used by his immediate predecessors as a hunting-lodge; but in 1660, Louis commenced converting it into a palace, and, after many additions, it became the royal residence in 1681. For a century or more it was a favorite abode of the kings of France, and no expense was spared upon its decorations. In 1792, the palace was devastated by the revolutionists. Everything convertible into money was sold for the nation, and but for Napoleon, it would have been completely destroyed. It was said, that he would have made it his residence, had it not required fifty millions of francs to put it in order. Louis XIV. expended upon it forty millions of pounds sterling, and Louis Philippe fifteen millions of francs. The latter restored it to splendor, and labored to concentrate in it splendid illustrations of the glories of France. All the painted ceilings, gildings, &c., were restored, and new galleries and saloons were formed. An immense series of paintings, sculptures, and works of art, illustrative of every important event that has reflected honor on the annals of France, now fills the splendid halls of this noble palace, forming a historical museum that has not its parallel in Europe, or in the world. It would be a vain attempt to endeavor to describe the palace. Its buildings and grounds are of very great extent. It is said to contain one hundred and thirty-seven grand saloons and lesser apartments, which are furnished with ten thousand pictures.
“Four hours are allowed for the inspection of the rooms and of their contents: and this time we employed most industriously, passing through the apartments with painful rapidity. No sooner were we attracted by a room, or interested in a picture, than we were hurried on to another, and another, and another apartment, until our faculties were tired, and our eyes satiated with the brilliant display. Many of the pictures are very large; and it appeared, from the delineations on some of the larger ones, which were in an unfinished state, that the canvas was hanging on the wall where the pictures now are when they were painted. Most of the pictures are battle scenes, from Clovis, Charlemagne, and the crusaders, down to Napoleon’s wonderful career, and even to the war in Algeria. The figures are of such dimensions as generally to appear of the size of life, notwithstanding the distance and elevation from which they are seen. It is painful to observe how large a part of human effort has been expended upon war. There are, however, many pictures of quiet scenes, and an immense number of portraits. Although the productions of the French pencil are here of unequal excellence, there are certainly among them no small number of fine pictures. Here also we see a vast collection of statues in marble and of casts in plaster, and a great series of medals and coins. The pictures of royal residences represent many that no longer exist, and with them are illustrations of the costumes of past times. Some of the galleries in the palace are three hundred feet long, and are filled with statuary. In order to see all the works of art, it is necessary to walk three or four miles.
“We looked into the private theater and chapel. Prayers and divine service were held in the one, and plays acted for the royal entertainment in the other; and here members of the royal family sometimes appeared on the stage. The confessional of Louis XIV. is a small room, by the side of which is a window, where a soldier was always stationed while the king was at confession; and the very chair in which his confessor, Père la Chaise, sat, and the very cushion on which Louis XIV. kneeled, are here in their places. Strange infatuation! The confessor who urged and obtained the revocation of the edict of Nantes, which was to let loose the dogs of persecution upon the Protestants, and the pliable monarch who yielded himself to license this cruel work of death on thousands, and of banishment upon many thousands more, could here meet in a private act of devotion, while they were about to violate the first laws of humanity! The bed in which the king slept, and in which he died, is still to be seen in his bedroom, and no one has since slept in that room. The private room of Marie Antoinette, queen of Louis XVI., has a small door in the side, through which the queen escaped in October, 1789, when the palace was forced. Through this door she was compelled to fly in her night dress, while a faithful officer of her guard was killed on the spot. All these melancholy places we saw, and also the gallery in which the king and queen and their children appeared, October sixth, 1789, to appease the fury of the Parisian mob, many thousands of whom filled the immense court of the palace yard. In this gallery La Fayette also appeared with them, and in sight of the people kissed the queen’s hand, to testify his loyalty and fidelity. It required no small share of courage and firmness thus to appear as the friend and protector of the royal pair, and their children, in the face of an infuriated multitude. This palace is associated with many other interesting events. In the time of Louis XIV. it was the scene of more splendor than any palace in Europe. And though for a time neglected after the flight of Louis Philippe, yet more recently under the government of Louis Napoleon, it has been adorned and restored in a very lavish and expensive manner. I had no opportunity to see the splendid play of the waters: the fountains were undergoing repair; besides, they play only on Sundays, which is the great gala day of the French, and when vast numbers of people, as in past times, resort to Versailles for amusement. In the time of Louis XIV., XV., and XVI., there were here extensive military establishments, which are now in decay. There was a manufactory of arms, which produced annually fifty thousand stands; but it was plundered by the Prussians, when the allies took Paris in 1814. The court of the palace measures eight hundred feet by five hundred, and is paved, as the courts of the French palaces generally are. In this court there are statues of great men, Colbert, Turenne, and others, of ultra-colossal size. In the center of the court there is an equestrian statue of Louis XIV., also of enormous dimensions. Versailles, nourished by the power, influence and money of Louis XIV., became a splendid city of one hundred thousand people; but the population has now dwindled to thirty thousand. Louis XVI. was an excellent mechanic: happy had it been for him had a shop instead of a throne been his lot. We saw a good door-lock of his construction, which was still serviceable; and there is yet to be seen a brass meridian made by him, and inlaid in the floor. Several of the royal carriages are here in a perfect state of preservation. They are gorgeous in the extreme, being all covered massively with gilded carving, and superbly lined.”
THE PALACE OF ST. CLOUD.
“This splendid palace is close upon the Seine, at a point where that river takes a graceful curve, and, in the course of several miles, is crossed by numerous bridges of stone, elegantly arched, and of the most solid construction. The landscape is here very rich and picturesque. Barracks of superior construction, and other handsome buildings, rise on the slope of a hill from the river, and the palace crowns the summit. The palace of St. Cloud was founded in 1572, by a rich financier. In 1658, it was purchased by Louis XIV. for his brother, the Duke of Orleans, who adorned it expensively. In 1782, Louis XVI. bought it for his queen, Marie Antoinette. It was a favorite place with her, as it was subsequently with Napoleon and Josephine. The principal front is one hundred and forty feet long and seventy feet high. Important events have happened here. In this palace Henry III. was assassinated by Jacques Clement, in 1589, and our guide assured us, that a place in the long room, which he indicated, was the very spot where the deed was done. Henrietta, the queen of Charles I. of England, died here. Here Napoleon, November tenth, 1799, completed the subjugation of the then existing government, dispersed the members of the council of ancients, whom he had adjourned to this place from Paris, and assumed the reins himself. In this place, the capitulation of Paris was signed in 1815. Here Charles X., in 1830, was informed of the explosion of the revolution; and here Louis Philippe rested a short time, during his flight from Paris in 1848.
“We have seen nothing in Europe so delightful as this palace. Its situation is splendid; being elevated high upon the side of a hill rising from the Seine, it overlooks Paris, and all the populous and most beautiful country around; the Seine winds gracefully along through the meadows, and appears wider than at Paris, where it is narrowed by the quays and other structures of the city. The views into the park are very fine on all sides of the palace; in the interior the ground rises, and vistas open up the green slope, with a long avenue of statues standing in the open air in one direction, and a tower in the distance in another, while a noble park of old and lofty forest trees, stretches over the flat ground in front, quite to the river. In the interior of the palace, everything is in the best taste. The furniture of the rooms remains as it was left by Josephine, Maria Louisa, and the family of Louis Philippe. The Duchess of Orleans, daughter-in-law of the late king, passed much time here with her children, and their beds, as well as that of Louis Philippe and his queen, remain undisturbed, with their rich silk curtains and covers.
“The pictures at St. Cloud are very numerous, and are lovely exhibitions of that almost creative art. They are all drawn from quiet scenes, such as must ever remain grateful to the human mind. Among the hundreds of pictures by the first masters that adorn these walls, there is not a single battle-piece. In this respect, St. Cloud presents a striking and very agreeable contrast with the carnage that crimsons the long galleries of Versailles. Louis Philippe sought, in that palace, to gratify the national avidity for glory, by multiplying battle-scenes in which the arms of France had been triumphant, and by depicting the persons of her heroes, until the tired eye that gazes on them is satiated with gorgeous costume, and the mind afflicted with human suffering. At St. Cloud a more amiable feeling was cherished, as appears by the charming pictures of rural scenery, of mild and splendid landscapes, of peaceful buildings, abodes of happy domestic life, scenes living and real, and ever grateful. As the private rooms in which the successive royal families lived, are rich in elegant simplicity, in a style of chaste beauty, they are in strong contrast with the rooms of state, which are extremely magnificent, and adorned by a profusion of princely decorations. Their domes are all alive with the imaginary beings of fabulous antiquity. Gods and goddesses, and muses and nymphs, and a multitude of creations of poetic fancy and records of old legends, decorate the ceilings. A principal ornament of the public rooms is the Gobelin tapestry, manufactured and hung by order of Louis Philippe. All that I had seen before at Windsor castle, or at Blenheim palace, fades in comparison with the rich decorations of the Gobelin looms, which adorn the public halls of St. Cloud. These textile pictures are perfectly beautiful, and from their magnitude and the august personages of the historical dramas which they present so impressively to the eye, they are sublime. No one viewing them from the distance across the room, would even suspect that they are anything else than the most perfect productions of the pencil, and even when the observer approaches them, it is not easy to convince himself that the splendid illusion is produced by the interweaving of colored woolen and silken threads. Five of the scenes here depicted in Gobelin tapestry are copied from original paintings still existing in the Louvre, executed by Rubens, for Marie de Medicis. The first is the duke of Anjou, declared king of Spain (Philip V.) The second of these pictures, which is not less than twenty-five feet square, is the birth of Marie de Medicis; the third is the presentation of her picture to Henry V.; the fourth, his marriage with her; the fifth represents his departure from his capital, and the committing of the government to the care of the queen. We saw also most magnificent vases of Sèvres porcelain: one of them was presented to Maria Antoinette; it must have been, I believe, five feet high without the pedestal, and of the capacity of a barrel or two. We have nothing in America that can convey a full impression of these superb productions of the plastic art. They are modeled after the forms of the most beautiful Etruscan vases; the most perfect purity of the porcelain material is contrasted with the finest efforts of the pencil, in the pictures, which being incorporated by the fire, are indissolubly wedded to the basis on which they are delineated, and they are resplendent with gold and blue enamel of cobalt. One is at a loss which most to admire, the productions of the Gobelin looms or those of the Sèvres furnaces.
“The floors of the palace, according to the general custom in French houses, are made of pieces of boards. They rarely exceed six inches in width, and are tastefully disposed in various geometrical figures. All the floors that we have seen in Paris, except some that are covered by carpets, are kept waxed; the waxing is renewed daily, and they are so smooth as to appear hazardous to those unaccustomed to walk upon them. The floors of the palace of St. Cloud have been, heretofore, covered by Gobelin carpets, which, at the time of our visit, were rolled and put away for safe keeping. We saw the council table of Napoleon and Louis Philippe, memorable for the deliberations which have been held over its boards. St. Cloud was the favorite place of consultation on matters of peace and war; here Napoleon planned some of his campaigns; here Louis Philippe passed much time with his family, and his daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Orleans, found a quiet retreat with her little son, the Count de Paris, whom she in person presented in the legislative hall during the revolution of 1848. Her husband, the Duke of Orleans, presumptive heir to the throne, having been killed by a mysterious providence, she naturally hoped that the legislature would acknowledge the claims of her son, founded on both those of his father and his grandfather Louis Philippe; but all the world knows that she was disappointed, and was fain to retreat and seek protection for her child and herself. There was a deep feeling of pensiveness connected with our visit to St. Cloud; closed now as it is and quite solitary, without a single individual remaining of those who formerly figured there; it was to us an instructive memento of the vanity of human glory. The splendid apartments remain, with all their furniture and decorations in perfect order. The solitary chapel, chastely elegant, although grave in its architecture, seemed all ready and waiting for the arrival of worshipers; and the entire palace, with its beautiful grounds, impresses one almost with the belief, that kings and queens, and courtiers and nobles, and guests of renown, will soon return and give life and joy to those vacant scenes; but alas, except some few members of the family of Louis Philippe and of Napoleon, all are gone to the tomb. The dreaded conqueror of nations found his second prison and his grave on a bleak rock, in the ocean, and his final tomb among those invalids whom, in their youth, he led to fields of battle and victory. Josephine, once an ornament of St. Cloud, as she was of every scene in which she presided, went with a broken heart from Malmaison to her grave. An old man, our guide through the palace, said to us, ‘I have been thirty years here, and I have seen three monarchs expelled from this palace and from their thrones.’ I have omitted to mention the large library of Louis Philippe, which still remains at St. Cloud, undisturbed and in perfect order. It is my impression that the number of volumes was stated at twelve thousand.”
THE CRYSTAL PALACE IN NEW YORK.
Turning now from palaces constructed for the kings and monarchs of the earth, let us pass to palaces reared for the exhibition of the works of industry and art of the people. And the first of these which we will notice is the crystal palace in New York. This splendid structure, a view of which is given in the cut below, was erected for the exhibition of the industry and art of all nations. This magnificent building was erected on Reservoir square, at the northern extremity of the city of New York, from plans furnished by Messrs. Carstensen and Gildermeister. The building is now standing, and is filled with the works of industry and art from every part of the globe. Its main features are as follows. It is, with the exception of the floor, entirely constructed of iron and glass. The general idea of the edifice is that of a Greek cross, surmounted by a dome at the intersection. Each diameter of the cross is three hundred and sixty-five feet and five inches long. There are three entrances, each forty-seven feet wide, and one of which is approached by a flight of eight steps. Over each front is a large semicircular fan-light, forty-one feet wide and twenty-one feet high, answering to the arch of the nave. Each arm of the cross is on the ground-plan one hundred and forty-nine feet broad. This is divided into a central nave and two aisles, one on each side; the nave forty-one, each aisle fifty-four feet wide. The central portion or nave is carried up to the hight of sixty-seven feet, and the semicircular arch by which it is spanned, is forty-one feet broad. There are thus in effect two arched naves crossing each other at right angles, forty-one feet broad, sixty-seven feet high to the crown of the arch, and three hundred and sixty-five feet long; and on each side of these naves is an aisle fifty-four feet broad and forty-five feet high. The exterior of the ridgeway of the nave is seventy-one feet. Each aisle is covered by a gallery of its own width, and twenty-four feet from the floor. The central dome is one hundred feet in diameter, sixty-eight feet inside from the floor to the spring of the arch, and one hundred and eighteen feet to the crown; and on the outside, with the lantern, one hundred and forty-nine feet. The exterior angles of the building are ingeniously filled up with a triangular lean-to, twenty-four feet high, which gives the ground-plan an octagonal shape, each side or face being one hundred and forty-nine feet wide. At each angle is an octagonal tower eight feet in diameter, and seventy-five feet high.
Ten large and eight winding staircases connect the principal floor with the gallery, which opens on the three balconies that are situated over the entrance hall, and afford ample space for flower decorations, statues, vases, &c. The ten principal staircases consist of two flights of steps with two landing-places to each; the eight winding staircases are placed in the octagonal towers, which lead also to small balconies on the tops of the towers and to the roof of the building.
The building contains on the ground-floor, one hundred and eleven thousand square feet of space, and in its galleries, which are fifty-four feet wide, sixty-two thousand square feet more, making a total area of one hundred and seventy-three thousand square feet, for the purposes of exhibition. There are thus on the ground-floor two acres and a half, or exactly two and fifty-two hundredths; in the galleries, one acre and forty-four hundredths; total, within an inconsiderable fraction, four acres.
There are on the ground-floor one hundred and ninety octagonal cast-iron columns, twenty-one feet above the floor, and eight inches in diameter, cast hollow, of different thicknesses, from half an inch to one inch. These columns receive the cast-iron girders. These are twenty-six and one-third feet long and three feet high, and serve to sustain the galleries and the wrought-iron construction of the roof, as well as to brace the whole structure in every direction. The girders, as well as the second-story columns, are fastened to the columns in the first story, by connecting pieces of the same octagonal shape as the columns, three feet and four inches high, having proper flanges and lugs to fasten all pieces together by bolts. The number of lower-floor girders is two hundred and fifty-two, besides twelve wrought-iron girders of the same hight, and forty-one feet span over a part of the nave. The second story contains one hundred and forty-eight columns, of the same shape as those below, and seventeen feet and seven inches high. These receive another tier of girders, numbering one hundred and sixty, for the support of the roofs of the aisles, each nave being covered by sixteen cast-iron semicircular arches, each composed of four pieces.
The dome will strike every one as the grand architectural feature of the building. Its diameter is one hundred feet, and its hight to the springing line is nearly seventy feet, and to the crown of the arch, one hundred and twenty-three feet. It is said to be the largest, as well as almost the only dome hitherto erected in the United States. It is supported by twenty-four columns, which rise beyond the second story, and to a hight of sixty-two feet above the principal floor. The system of wrought-iron trusses which connects them together at the top, and is supported by them, forms two concentric polygons, each of sixteen sides. They receive a cast-iron bed-plate, to which the cast-iron shoes for the ribs of the dome are bolted. The latter are thirty-two in number. They are constructed of two curves of double angle iron, securely connected together by trellis-work. The requisite steadiness is secured by tie-rods, which brace them both vertically and horizontally. At the top the ribs are bolted to a horizontal ring of wrought and cast iron, which has a diameter of twenty-feet in the clear, and is surmounted by the lantern. As in the other roofs of the building, the dome is cased with matched deal and tin sheathing. Light is communicated to the interior through the lantern, and also in part from the sides, which are pierced for thirty-two ornamental windows. These are glazed with stained glass, representing the arms of the union and of its several states, and form no inconsiderable part of the interior decoration.
The external walls of the building are constructed of cast-iron framing and panel-work, into which are inserted the sashes of the windows and the louvers for ventilation. The glass is one-eighth of an inch thick, and was manufactured at the Jackson glass works, New York, and afterward enameled by Cooper & Belcher, of Camptown, N. J. The enamel, with which the whole of it is covered, is laid upon the glass with a brush, and after drying, is subjected to the intense heat of a kiln, by which the coating is vitrified, and rendered as durable as the glass itself. It produces an effect similar to that of ground glass, being translucent, but not transparent. The sun’s rays, diffused by passing through it, yield an agreeable light, and are deprived of that heat and glare which belong to them in this climate. In the absence of a similar precaution in the crystal palace at Hyde park, in England, (of which an account will next be given,) the roofs of which, as well as walls, were inclosed with transparent glass, it was found necessary to cover the interior of the building with canvas, to produce the required shade.
At each angle of the building there is an octagonal tower, eight feet in diameter and seventy-six feet in hight. These contain winding stairways, which lead to the galleries and roofs, and were intended for the use of the officers and employees of the association. Twelve broad staircases, one on either side of each entrance, and four beneath the dome, connect the principal floor with the gallery. The latter are circular in part, and consist of two flights of steps with two landing-places. The flooring of the galleries is made of closely matched planks, while those forming the floor of the first story are separated by narrow intervals, in the same manner and for the same purpose as in the London building. Over each of the principal entrance halls, the galleries open upon balconies, which afford ample space for placing flowers, vases and statues for decoration. Above the balconies, the ends of the naves are adorned with large fan-lights, corresponding to the semicircular arches within. On each side of the entrances there are ticket offices, and adjacent to them rooms are provided for the officers of the association, telegraph, &c.
The rapid and unexpected increase of the applications of exhibitors, induced the association to erect a large addition to the building already described. It consists of two parts, of one and two stories respectively, and occupies the entire space between the main building and the reservoir. Its length is four hundred and fifty-one feet and five inches, and its extreme width is seventy-five feet. It is designed for the reception of machinery in motion, the cabinets of mining and mineralogy, and the refreshment rooms, with their necessary offices. The second story, which is nearly four hundred and fifty feet long, twenty-one feet wide, and extends the whole length, is entirely devoted to the exhibition of pictures and statuary. It is lighted from a skylight, four hundred and nineteen feet long, and eight feet and six inches wide.
The decorations of the building were intrusted to Henry Greenough, Esq., brother of the lamented sculptor of the same name. Mr. Greenough has made art his study, and in its pursuit has resided long in Italy. The leading idea in the plan of decoration, has been to bring out the beautiful construction of the building; to decorate construction rather than to construct decoration. To do this, and at the same time to preserve a general harmony of effect, has given Mr. Greenough ample opportunity to display his knowledge of the resources of his art. The result is surprisingly beautiful. The colors employed on the exterior are mixed in oil, the base being the white lead manufactured by the Bellville Company. The exterior presents the appearance of a building constructed of a light-colored bronze, of which all features purely ornamental are of gold. The interior has a prevailing tone of buff, or rich cream color, which is given to all the cast-iron constructive work. This color is relieved by a moderate and judicious use of the three positive colors, red, blue and yellow, in their several tints of vermilion, garnet, sky-blue and orange, (certain parts of the ornamental work being gilt,) to accord with the arrangement of colors employed in the decoration of the ceilings. The only exceptions to the use of oil colors are the ceilings of the American lean-to and the dome; these decorations are executed on canvas. The effect of the interior of the dome, (designed by Sr. Monte Lilia,) is particularly splendid. The rays from a golden sun, at the center, descend between the latticed ribs, and arabesques of white and blue, relieved by silver stars, surround the openings.
The building is supplied with gas and water in every part. The gas was, at first, designed for the use of the police, in protecting the property by night; but was so arranged that now, when the building is opened in the evenings, it affords the most ample light throughout the entire edifice. The water is accessible at numerous points, with convenience for drinking, also for the attachment of hose, in case of fire.
The whole quantity of iron employed in the construction amounts to eighteen hundred tuns; of which three hundred tuns are wrought and fifteen hundred tuns cast iron. The quantity of glass is fifteen thousand panes, or fifty-five thousand square feet. The quantity of wood used amounts to seven hundred and fifty thousand feet, board measure.
The general mode of erection by base pieces, columns, connecting pieces and girders, is the same with that of the great Hyde park building, but the construction of the arched nave, and of the dome, is of course entirely peculiar, and the general effect of the building is completely different. The London building was certainly deficient in architectural effect. The form of the New York edifice affords the requisite scope for a pleasing variety of embellishments, by which all monotony can be avoided, and allows a very economical use of the ground. The dome, independent of its effect in the interior arrangement of the edifice, will give hight and majesty to the exterior.
To complete the explanation of the construction of the building, we recapitulate its principal dimensions.
Ft. In. From principal floor to gallery floor, 24 From principal floor to top of second tier of girders, 44 4⅜ From principal floor to top of third tier of girders, 59 10 From principal floor to ridge of nave, 67 4 From principal floor to top of bed-plate, 69 11 From principal floor to top of upper ring of dome, 123 6 From Sixth avenue curb-stone to top of lantern, 151 From Sixth avenue curb-stone to top of towers, 76 9 Area of first floor, 157,195 square feet. Area of second floor, 92,496 square feet. —-—-- Total area, 249,692 or 5¾ acres.
The magnitude of these proportions alone, is calculated to excite feelings of profound awe in the spectator’s mind; and when we see added the gorgeous but subdued chromatic decoration with which the interior is ornamented, and the innumerable works of art and industry with which it is so richly filled, we may well be proud of an erection which is destined to confer lasting honor on the American name.
It was to be hoped that this splendid building, filled with the products of the industry and art of all nations, might have remained permanently in New York, to be an ornament to the city, and a museum for the entertainment and instruction of visitors from every part of the country and the world; but since the above was written, it has been decided that the building is to be taken down, either for removal to some other place, or for the sale of its materials.
THE CRYSTAL PALACE IN LONDON.
Having spoken of the New York crystal palace, we now pass to the crystal palace of London, which preceded the former in the order of time, and far surpassed it in size and magnificence. This splendid building, erected for the great exhibition of 1851, was located on the south side of Hyde park, near the Kensington road, in a position highly favorable in all respects to its intended objects. The construction of the edifice presented not a few difficulties. The building committee, comprising some of the leading architects and engineers of Great Britain, advertised for plans to be presented for the building; and as the result, no less than two hundred and forty designs were laid before them. A large part of these were at once put aside as utterly worthless; and then from about sixty, which were thought worthy of consideration, the committee proceeded to prepare a design which pleased nobody, not even themselves. This plan, however, such as it was, was decided upon, and advertisements were issued for proposals to build it. Objections were at once raised, both against the plan proposed, and the possibility of its execution; but while the committee, perplexed with the difficulties suggested, were doubting what they should do, relief came to them from an unexpected quarter, which we must go back a little to explain.
In 1839, Sir Robert Schomburg, a distinguished botanist, in going up the river Berbice, in Demerara, had discovered in the still waters of the stream, a gigantic water-lily, of a shape hitherto unknown, and had transmitted some of its seeds to England, where the plant growing from them, under the care of Joseph Paxton, the head gardener of the Duke of Devonshire, was called the Victoria Regia. This plant was the occasion, and in some respects the model for the crystal palace. Every means was adopted to place this wonderful exotic in its accustomed circumstances. A tropical soil was formed for it, of burned loam and peat. Coal-heat was substituted for that of the tropical sun; and by means of a wheel, a ripple, like that of its native river, was communicated to the waters of the tank upon which its broad leaves reposed in beauty. In these circumstances the lily grew luxuriantly, and Mr. Paxton was obliged to plan an edifice capable of holding it. This he was doing just about the time when the committee were poring wearily over their two hundred and forty plans; and in June, he drew out a design for the exhibition building, which had been suggested to his mind while preparing an abode for the Victoria Regia. In ten days he had completed his elevations, sections, working plans and specifications; and the whole being submitted to the inspection of competent and influential persons, was unanimously declared to be practicable, and the only practicable scheme presented.
The design, thus prepared, was next laid before the contractors, Messrs. Fox & Henderson, who at once determined to submit a tender for the construction of a building in accordance with it. And in a single week, they had calculated the amount and cost of every pound of iron, every pane of glass, every foot of wood, and every hour of labor, which would be required, and were prepared with an offer and specifications for the construction of the edifice. But here arose a difficulty. The committee had advertised only for proposals for carrying out their own design; but, fortunately, they had invited the suggestion, on the part of contractors, of any improvements on it; and so Mr. Paxton’s plan was presented simply as “an improvement” upon that of the committee, though it had not a single feature in common with it. This, with certain modifications, was adopted; and the result was the celebrated crystal palace, the first of the name, and the suggester of all others of the same general character—the great, original crystal palace; itself the greatest wonder of the most wonderful exhibition the world has ever seen!
The building consisted, or rather still consists, of three series of elevations, of the respective hights of sixty-four, forty-four, and twenty-four feet, intersected at the central point of meeting, by a transept of seventy-two feet in width, having a semicircular roof rising to the hight of one hundred and eight feet in the center. It extended in length eighteen hundred and fifty-one feet from north to south, or more than one-third of a mile, with a breadth of four hundred and fifty-six feet on the ground; thus covering a surface of some eighteen acres, or nearly double the extent of Washington square in New York, and exceeding, by more than one-half, the dimensions of the Park or the Battery. The whole rested upon cast-iron pillars, united by bolts and nuts, fixed to flanges perfectly true, so that if the socket was placed level, the columns and connecting pieces could not but stand upright; and in point of fact, not a single crooked line, it is said, was discoverable in the combination of such an immense number of pieces in the building as first erected, or as it now stands. For the support of the columns, holes were dug in the ground, in each of which was placed a bed of concrete, and upon this rested the iron sockets, of from three to four feet in length, according to the level of the ground; to which sockets the columns were firmly attached by bolts and nuts. At the top, each column was attached by a girder to its opposite column, both longitudinally and transversely, so that the whole eighteen acres of pillars were securely framed together.
The roofs, of which there were five, one to each of the elevations, were constructed on the ridge and furrow principle, and glazed with sheets of glass of forty-nine inches in length. The construction will be easily understood, by imagining a series of parallel rows of the letter V, extending (thus, VVV) in uninterrupted lines the whole length of the building. The apex of each ridge was formed by a wooden sash-bar, with notches on each side for holding the laths in which the edges of the glass were fitted. The bottom bar, or rafter, was hollowed at the top, so as to form a gutter to carry off the water, which passed through transverse gutters into the iron columns, which were made hollow so as to serve as water-pipes; while in the base of each column a horizontal pipe was inserted to convey the accumulated water into the sewers. The exhalations from so large a surface, from the plants and from the breath of the innumerable visitors, rising against the glass and there being condensed, would, if the roof had been flat, have descended in the form of a perpetual mist, or dropping rain; but it was found that from glass pitched at a particular angle, the moisture did not fall, but would glide down its surface. The bottom bars, therefore, were grooved on the inside, thus forming interior gutters, by which the moisture found its way down the interior of the columns, and thus through the drainage pipes into the sewers. These grooved rafters, of which the total length was two hundred and five miles, were formed by machinery, at a single operation.
The lower tier of the building was boarded; the walls of the upper portion being composed, like the roof, of glass. Ventilation was provided for by the basement portion being walled with iron plates, placed at an angle of forty-five degrees, known as luffer-boarding, which admits the air freely, while it excludes the rain. A similar provision was made at the top of each tier of the building; the plates all being so constructed that they could be closed at pleasure. In order to subdue the intense light in a building having such an immense extent of glass surface, the whole roof and the south side were covered with canvas, which also precluded any possible injury from hail, as well as rendered the edifice much cooler than it otherwise would have been.
In the construction of the building the utmost care was taken to give each part the stiffest and strongest form possible in a given quantity of material. The columns were hollow; and the girders which united them were trellis-formed. The utmost weight which it was supposed any girder would be likely to have upon it, was seven and a half tuns; and not one was used till after having been tested to the extent of fifteen tuns; while the breaking weight was calculated at thirty tuns. At first sight it would seem as if there might be danger that a building presenting so vast a surface to the action of the wind, might be liable to be blown down, or at least forced out of position. But from the manner in which the columns were framed together, they could not be overthrown except by breaking them; and experiments showed, that in order to break the one thousand and sixty columns on the ground floor, a force of sixty-three hundred and sixty tuns must be exerted, at a hight of twenty-four feet. But the greatest force of the wind known, is computed at twenty-two pounds to the superficial foot; so that assuming even a force of twenty-eight pounds, and supposing a hurricane with that momentum to strike at once the whole side of the building, the total force, it was said, would be less than fifteen hundred tuns, not one-fourth what the building could easily sustain, independently of the bracings, which added materially to its strength. So that, if any reliance at all could be placed on theoretical engineering, there could, it was said, be no doubt whatever but that the building would be safe in the most violent tempest.
The building being thus erected, the spectator entering at the main east or west entrance, found himself in a nave sixty-four feet in hight, and seventy-two in breadth, and extending without interruption the whole length of the building, one-third of a mile. Parallel with this, but interrupted by the transept in the center, was a series of side aisles, of forty-eight and twenty-four feet in breadth, and with a hight of forty-four and twenty-four feet. And over the center of the nave, swelled the semicircular roof of the transept, overarching the stately trees beneath; thus forming a gigantic green-house, with the ancient elms of the park in the place of geraniums and rose-bushes. The whole area of the ground-floor was seven hundred and seventy-two thousand, seven hundred and eighty-four square feet, and that of the galleries, two hundred and seventeen thousand; making in all nearly a million square feet, to which should be added five hundred thousand feet of hanging space, available for the display of the innumerable products of human skill and labor, that made the exhibition one of the most wondrous of all the wonders of the world.
There were three refreshment rooms; one in the transept, and one near each end of the building, around the huge trees of the park, which, as already said, were left standing. No wine, spirits or fermented liquors were allowed to be sold, but only tea, coffee and unfermented drinks; while pure water was to be furnished gratis to all, by the lessees of the refreshment rooms. As to the decoration of the interior, it may here be added, that the shafts of all the columns were painted yellow; the concave portions of the capitals, blue; the under sides of the girders, red; and their vertical surfaces, white.
We might dwell in detail on the vast collection of the products of human industry and art which filled the interior of this immense structure, and made it the resort of visitors from every part of the world. But the history of “the great exhibition” is familiar to most if not all of our readers. We will only add, that among all the wonders of the crystal palace, nothing was more wonderful than its cheapness, and the rapidity of its construction. Possession of the site was obtained on the thirtieth of July; and in a period of one hundred and forty-five working days, the building was mainly completed. Its cost was less, by the cubic foot, than an ordinary barn. If it had been used only for the exhibition, and at its close returned to the contractors, its cost would have been nine-sixteenths of a penny per foot; and if it had been left remaining permanently, it would have been but one penny and one-twelfth of a penny per foot. The astonishing fact, that a building of glass and iron, including thirty-three million cubic feet, and covering eighteen acres, and affording room for nine miles of tables, should have been completed in less than five months from the day when the contract was entered into, at a cost less than that of the humblest hovel, opens a new era in the art of building.
Silliman, in his late “Visit to Europe,” under the date of the twenty-ninth of March, 1851, says: “Into this wonderful and imposing structure we have to-day merely made our entrance. As we drove along the eastern side of Hyde park, on a bright and beautiful morning, the splendid vision caught our eyes, as the sunlight was thrown wide around by this immense mirror. It was merely a glance that we took on this occasion, reserving more deliberate observation for future opportunities. It was not accessible, as yet, to visitors, but by particular favor, through an introduction to one of the managers, we were admitted into the interior. It has become so familiar, in all its aspects, to the whole world, that at this date, after its complete development, any detailed description would be out of place. The general impression made upon us, by our walks through this stupendous conservatory of the arts, was that of great splendor and magnificence. It appeared a fairy palace, like the creations of fable; a building equally unique and original in its structure; original, also, in its bearing upon the concord and amicable rivalry of nations; in this respect of most auspicious tendency. Already the consignments of the world are coming in, and to a great extent have actually arrived. African Tunis sends its contributions, and even more remote countries are beginning to occupy the large space allotted to them. The palace is so high as to cover several of the large trees of Hyde park, where it is erected; and we saw, not without a shudder, a man dangling in the air at the end of a rope near the roof, at the hight of eighty feet. He had been drawn up simply by holding on the end of the rope by his hands, and was whirled around and around, until he reached a plank almost in the angle of the roof, where at last he was safely landed.”
And at a later date, he adds: “Although I have walked many hours, and I presume ten miles in this immense structure, I seem only to have begun to see it. In despair of my ability to convey any adequate idea of it, I am almost disposed to pass it in silence, but this would disappoint those for whom I write. Pictures and descriptions of the building had reached America before I left home, and it is known that its front extends more than one-third of a mile, besides its branches. The area which it covers is eighteen acres, and under its vaulted transept are included some large and lofty trees that were growing in the park. So many accounts of its contents, and so many views of its form, both within and without, have been since published, that a better idea of both can be obtained from numerous sources, than from anything that I can write. I shall, therefore, attempt nothing more than some general remarks, and will mention a few examples. When we were here in March, I expressed my admiration of the general design. So far as I know it is novel. Exhibitions of the productions, whether in nature or art, of particular countries, have often been made, and in some countries they are annual, as in France, England, and in the United States; but I believe it was reserved for Prince Albert to originate the design of inviting all nations to bring to one place the results of their industry and skill, and specimens of their physical resources. For obvious reasons, no place was so proper as London, the commercial metropolis of the world, and I suppose now containing a greater population, and certainly more wealth, and exerting more influence on mankind, than any other city. The invitation was a pledge of universal good-will, and it has evidently tended to produce kind feelings among the nations. Instead of new fortresses of stone and iron, instead of walls and battlements to protect this immense city from invasion, there rises in its grand domain of Hyde park, a crystal palace, the temple of arts and industry. It rose like an exhalation, a magical illusion of the senses. The frame-work of iron, although strong enough to sustain the weight and to resist the winds, is so little apparent to the eye, that the crystal palace appears a sea of glass, as in the Revelations, ‘A sea of glass like unto crystal.’ One might dream, as in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ of such a creation, ‘in the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men,’ and might find on waking that it was all an illusion, when it would vanish like the fabric of a dream, and leave not a wreck behind. But there it stands, a splendid reality, and with its widely extended transepts, wings and galleries, has proved sufficient to receive and protect the gathered riches of mankind.
“I mentioned in my passage from Boulogne, that I was in company with a large number of French people coming over to see the crystal palace. Crowds of all nations throng this palace; fifty thousand, or sixty thousand, and sometimes seventy thousand in a day. As you walk about, or thread your way through the great masses of human beings that crowd the avenues, you may hear half the languages of Europe, and some of those of the orient. I imagined that before our return from the continent the deluge of nations would have subsided, and this consideration was not without weight in inducing us to prefer a late inspection of the splendid wonder; but in this particular we have been disappointed. The numbers who daily resort to the crystal palace are undiminished: it may be that there are fewer foreigners, but since the price has been reduced to a shilling, the country people come in, parents and children, and mothers with their infants; steamboats and cars are crowded, and it seems as if the rural population of the kingdom were all rushing into London.
“As to the contents of the palace, it is impossible to enumerate them. A mere catalogue, with the most brief descriptive notices, would fill a large volume. I can only mention groups of things, with here and there a particular instance. The collection embraces the useful as well as the fine arts. All kinds of agricultural machines are here to be seen, and there are seeds, and specimens of crops, all duly arranged and labeled. The American department has been somewhat undervalued, because it was not so splendid, and was less full than the collections from some other countries, but even the Times, which has generally an unfriendly bearing in relation to our country, has commended the American department on the score of utility. Indeed, it was not reasonable to expect that a country occupied but two centuries by civilized people, should be able fully to compete with nations who have been civilized for a thousand years; and our great distance, and the difficulty and expense of transporting articles across the ocean, and of coming over to look after them, must have prevented our appearing as we do at home, in the great industrial exhibitions of New York, Philadelphia and Boston. I have seen such gatherings at Niblo’s and the Castle Garden, in New York, and in Boston, not only of useful, but of elegant things, as I should feel proud to see in the American department in the crystal palace. Two agricultural instruments are, however, spoken of as giving the palm to America above all competition. I refer to the plow and the reaping-machine of American manufacture. The plow is said to have attained the perfection of form, and the reaping-machine to be recommended by its great utility.
“Iron, as it is the material which, more than others, (wood excepted,) contributes indispensable aid to the arts of life, occupies a conspicuous place in the exhibition. Its ores and its castings, and its wrought articles, whether in a locomotive, or the hair-spring of a chronometer, whether in chain-cables or a cambric needle, are displayed in endless variety of useful and beautiful forms, and in this department England justly claims and fully proves her preëminence. Iron, lead, copper, bismuth, zinc, antimony, and silver, gold and platinum, are conspicuous here. England glories in her tin, lead and copper: in the two latter we can compete with her; our lead is inexhaustible, and our native copper of Lake Superior, is unequaled for abundance. A large mass of it has been brought over for the exhibition, weighing many thousand pounds.
“Nothing can exceed the beauty of the articles of silver, whether utensils or ornaments, which are exposed to view in the gallery of the crystal palace. The most graceful forms both of peaceful men, and of warriors, armed cap-à-pie; and of woman in the very beau ideal of her loveliness, are here in profusion; and if England excels in these articles in silver, France is not behind her, both in them and in gilded furniture, and bronze, as seen in all the splendor and elegance of the show windows of the Palais Royal. The silver extracted from lead by Pattinson’s process is here seen in piles so rich, with a perfect purity of whiteness, and in scaly pyramids, a kind of flaky mound, that the observer looks on with delight, as also upon the same metal cast in ponderous ingots. Here is the gold of California, one brilliant mass weighing in value eight hundred pounds sterling, equivalent to nearly four thousand dollars. There are three masses of native Siberian, or Russian platinum, weighing respectively twenty-one, twenty-three, and twenty-five pounds, and many wrought articles of the same metal. The copper of Russia, in the form of malachite, here makes a great figure. The same material which we saw in the Vatican, and in the palace of the king of Prussia, in the form of magnificent vases, is here seen wrought into innumerable forms of beauty. There is even a large paneled door fabricated entirely of malachite. Of course many pieces are united to afford the requisite mass. There are tables, vases, urns, chairs, settees, &c., mounted with the same rich material. The gems form a conspicuous ornament of the collection. Queen Victoria has loaned her largest diamond, with several smaller ones, to be exhibited, and here also are some of the most precious of the diamonds, rubies, sapphires, topazes, emeralds, chrysoberyls, opals, and pearls of the regalia of Russia, Spain and India. The Duke of Devonshire has an emerald deposited by Mr. Tenant, nearly two inches in the diagonal diameter, and two to three inches in length; it is of surpassing beauty, being perfectly crystallized, and of the most intense and uniform grass-green color. There is no end to the bijouterie of the French. A case in the gallery is composed of four pieces of plate glass, each between five and six feet long, and four to five broad. This case is entirely filled with elegant ornamental articles.
“I can not pretend to enumerate the marbles, granites, porphyries, serpentines, and other architectural materials, nor the piles of mineral coal, and anthracite, nor the perfect imitations of beautiful and useful mineral compositions, such as serpentines, verd-antique, porphyry, and verd-antique marbles, &c. The chemical products, too, of great beauty, are numerous. The crystallizations of carbonate and bi-carbonate of soda, of alum, of the prussiates, yellow and red, of the sulphate of iron, and the sulphate of copper, and sal-ammoniac, are splendid, and evince that the chemical arts are not behind the mechanical. Large cakes of metallic antimony are crystallized in beautiful fern-like radiations.
“France, Belgium, Holland, Austria, Germany, Prussia, Turkey, the Barbary states, Egypt, Bermuda, the East Indies, Canada, Australia, and other countries, have combined to decorate the crystal palace. Superb silks have come from the east, and pictured stuffs, shawls, carpets, &c., from Germany; the antipodes have conspired to crown the glorious spectacle; plain and useful materials, leather, hemp, ropes of manilla grass and of other fibrous vegetables, and glass and pottery in their varieties, are not omitted. To give animation to the scene, steam generated out of doors is brought in through concealed tubes and applied to machinery. Cotton-gins and paper-making machines are at work, and the palace resounds with the noise of actual and productive labor. Ship models are presented in many forms, especially ships of war, in sections longitudinal and transverse, with all their interior structure. Life-boats and life-preservers, and in harmony with them, mirrors for light-houses; but in contrast, swords, pistols, revolvers, guns, dirks and daggers, and multiform contrivances to do the work of killing the greatest number of men in the shortest time; such are man’s inconsistencies!
“But time would fail to tell of the furniture, the carriages, the musical instruments, the ceramic wares, and all the countless and indescribable throng of articles which contribute their effect in the tout ensemble of this vast storehouse of the nations. The statuary arranged along the naves is a conspicuous and interesting feature. Many of the prominent and more meritorious of these marbles, have since become so familiar from the engravings in the Art Journal and other illustrated works, that it is needless at this late day to call attention to them individually. The famous Amazon of Kiss, the same which was in London, is now the most remarkable artistic object in the American crystal palace. The most interesting view is obtained from the galleries of the moving masses of human life below. It is a panorama where multitudes are passing to and fro, and soon are seen no more, fleeting as the jets-d’eau which sport among them from living fountains, that curl over and descend in graceful sweeps, and seem to enliven the stately palms and other living plants and trees which grace the scene.”
In closing this extended notice of the crystal palace, we hardly need add, that after the close of the great exhibition, it was taken down and removed; and that at present, it rears its splendid form and stately transepts in a new and more beautiful situation at Sydenham, with many important additions and improvements. It now stands in the midst of a magnificent undulating park of three hundred acres, surrounded with rural delights, fountains, shaded walks and silvan temples; while within, it has been converted into a great permanent museum of arts, antiquities and science, with living groves of palms, enlivened by singing birds and sparkling fountains. For eighteen pence the London artisan can visit it, including the ride out and back upon the railway. This is being done by a private association at a cost of near four million dollars.
THE CAPITOL AT WASHINGTON.
Among the public buildings at Washington, the capital city of the nation, the first in architectural merit, and in point of interest, is the Capitol, which contains the halls of the national legislature, the supreme court room, &c., &c. This building (a view of which, as it will appear when the enlargement now in progress is completed, is given in the cut below) is situated on an eminence at the eastern part of the city, about seventy feet above tidewater, its main front looking toward the west. As it was before the commencement of the alterations and improvements now in progress, it consisted of a center building, with two wings, having a total length of three hundred and fifty-two feet, and a depth at the wings of one hundred and twenty-one feet. The central building contains a rotunda, ninety-six feet in diameter, and the same in hight, crowned by a magnificent dome which rises one hundred and forty-five feet from the ground. The wings, as they were, were each surmounted by a flat dome. The eastern front, which was intended for the main one, projects, including the steps, sixty-five feet, and is graced by a portico of twenty-two Corinthian columns, thirty feet in hight, forming a colonnade one hundred and sixty feet in length, presenting one of the most commanding fronts in the United States. The western front projects eighty-three feet, including the steps, and is embellished with a recessed portico of ten columns. This front, though not so imposing, in itself, as the eastern, commands the finest view anywhere to be had in Washington, overlooking all the central and western parts of the city, and all the principal public buildings. On the steps of the east front is a noble statue of Columbus, supporting a globe in his outstretched arm. In the interior of the western projection is the library of Congress, a part of which was burned in the winter of 1851-2. Before that event it contained over fifty thousand volumes. It has been rebuilt so as to be fire-proof.
On entering the rotunda, the first objects that strike the attention, are the paintings which adorn the walls. There are “The Declaration of Independence,” “The Surrender of Burgoyne,” “The Surrender of Cornwallis,” “Washington resigning his Commission,” “The Embarkation of the Pilgrims at Leyden,” “The Landing of Columbus,” “The Baptism of Pocohontas,” and “The Discovery of the Mississippi by De Soto.” Surrounding the rotunda, are a number of chambers, passages, committee-rooms, rooms for the president, members of the cabinet, &c. The senate-chamber is on the second floor of the north wing, of which it occupies about half, and is of a semicircular form, being seventy-five feet long, and forty-five high. A gallery for spectators, supported by iron or bronze pillars, surrounds the semicircle, and fronts the chair of the presiding officer, which stands in the middle of the chord of the semicircle. In the rear of the chair, and above it, is a gallery, supported by Ionic columns of the conglomerate or Potomac marble, in which sit the reporters, fronting the senators. The hall of representatives is on the second floor of the south wing, and is also semicircular, but much larger than the senate-chamber, being ninety-six feet long, and sixty high, and surrounded by twenty-four Corinthian columns of Potomac marble, with capitals of Italian marble. The galleries are similar in their arrangement to those of the senate-chamber. Over the chair of the speaker is a statue of Liberty, supported by an eagle with spread wings. In front of the chair, and immediately above the main entrance, is a figure representing History recording the events of the nation.
The enlargement of the Capitol, commenced in 1851, and now in progress, will, however, materially change and improve its appearance. It will comprehend two wings, two hundred and thirty-eight by one hundred and forty feet, which are to be surrounded on three sides by colonnades, and on the fourth side to communicate by corridors, forty-four feet long and fifty feet wide, with the main building. The whole will be seven hundred and fifty-one feet long, and will cover three and one-half acres, or more than one hundred and fifty-three thousand square feet. The architect of the new building has completed the design of a magnificent new dome for the center of the enlarged building, which is said to be a splendid conception of genius, and which is to take the place of the present dome, and thus perfect the symmetry and architectural beauty of the entire building when complete. It will be constructed entirely of cast iron, and will be on the foundation of the old dome. And if it at all meets the expectations formed of it, it will be a lasting monument of the skill and genius of the architect.
The whole cost of the building as it now stands, before the extension, was some two million dollars; but the improvement will cost several millions more. The original structure was commenced in 1793, and had not been completed when it was burned, by an act of vandalism, in 1814; and was not entirely finished till 1828. The grounds around the Capitol, embracing some thirty acres, and forming an oblong on three sides, and a semicircle on the west, are handsomely laid out, and planted with trees and shrubbery, presenting, during the spring and summer, a scene of great beauty. About the center of the grounds, on the eastern front, is a colossal statue of Washington, by Greenough. The material of the Capitol is a porous stone of a light yellow color, painted white. The enlargement is to be of marble.
THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTE.
South-west from the Capitol, and midway between it and the president’s house, on a gently rising ground, in the midst of a new park which has recently been laid out, stands the Smithsonian Institute, one of the noblest institutions and finest structures in Washington, a view of which is given in the cut beyond.
This edifice is four hundred and fifty feet long, by one hundred and forty wide, and is built of red sand-stone, in the Romanesque or Norman style, embellished by nine towers, from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty feet high, and of different forms. In the building is a lecture-room, large enough to seat some two thousand persons; a museum, for objects of natural history, some two hundred feet long; one of the best supplied laboratories in the United States; a gallery for paintings and statuary; a library-room, capable of containing one hundred thousand volumes; and various other smaller apartments connected with the designs of the building. The institution was endowed by James Smithson, an Englishman, who left his whole fortune, some five hundred thousand dollars, “to found, at Washington, an establishment for the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men.” The fund, which is in the keeping of the United States government, yields an income of more than thirty thousand dollars per year; and this increase is divided into two parts, one of which is to be devoted to the increase and diffusion of knowledge by means of original research and publications, and the other to the gradual formation of a library, a gallery of art, museum, &c.
THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT.
On the proposed new park, and between the Smithsonian Institute and the president’s house, has been commenced a colossal monument to the memory of Washington, to be erected by the voluntary contributions of the people. A view of it, as it will appear when completed, is given in the cut.
The plan contemplates, as a base, a circular temple, two hundred and fifty feet in diameter, and one hundred feet high, from the center of which is to rise a shaft, seventy feet square, to the hight of six hundred feet above the ground, and to be cased in marble. The base is intended to be the Westminster Abbey of the United States, to contain the statues of the revolutionary worthies, and in the center, (if his family approve,) are to be placed the remains of Washington. The temple, at the base, will be entirely surrounded by a colonnade of thirty pillars, in the Doric style, forty-five feet high by twelve in diameter, surmounted by an entablature of twenty feet, which, in turn, is to be surmounted by a balustrade of fifteen feet in hight. Each state in the union is invited to furnish a block of native stone or other material, with an inscription, which will be inserted in the interior, where the block may be seen and the inscription read in coming ages. A triumphal car, with a statue of Washington, is to stand over the grand entrance, as seen in the engraving. The column, at present, has reached the hight of less than two hundred feet; but if completed according to the original plan, it will form the most magnificent monument ever erected. It is said that there is not a column, either ancient or modern, in Europe, as high as the Bunker-hill monument. And yet, such are the gigantic proportions of the Washington monument, that Bunker-hill monument could be placed inside of it without much impeding the operations of the workmen; and when it is finished, any two of the monuments of Europe could be stowed away within its walls without being noticed from the exterior. The design has been severely criticised; and the great hight of the column, receding so suddenly from so wide a base, has been strongly objected to. But the plan was deliberately adopted after much consideration, and when the work is finished, it will doubtless be approved by the great mass of beholders. Certainly it will attract the gaze of thousands as a monument not merely to a man, but to principles which should be dear to every American. The endowments of the great man whom it commemorates, were peculiarly adapted to the exigency which called them into action. He was brave, but cautious; earnest, yet calm; resolved, yet guarded against rash adventure; a patriot, in whose heart the love of country predominated; a statesman, in whose conduct every public virtue was exemplified; a citizen, whose intercourse with his fellow-men was without reproach. Placed in a position at once responsible and perilous, he felt and was ever ready to acknowledge the overruling providence of God, by whose blessing alone he could succeed. It was not one great quality which formed the character of Washington, but a rare union of many great qualities. These, with unfeigned devotion, he laid on the altar of his country, and for the promotion of her interests he was ready to sacrifice his personal comfort and his life. Wonderfully was he sustained in his self-denying and eventful career, and remarkable was the success which accompanied his efforts. The most formidable obstacles were surmounted, the most powerful opposition subdued; his country was liberated; the battle of free institutions was fought and won; and he, superior to the impulses of mere personal ambition, nevertheless achieved a fame which has no parallel in the world’s history. If he was “first in war,” he was “first too in peace,” and he still remains “first in the hearts of his countrymen.” Such a name should never be forgotten; such an example should never lose its influence.
THE COLUMN OF VENDOME, PARIS.
The Place de Vendome, formed upon the site of a hotel that belonged to the Duke de Vendome, was begun by Louis XIV., who, in 1685, purchased and leveled the hotel, intending to erect, round a public place, edifices for the royal library, the mint, the extraordinary embassadors, &c. This project, however, was abandoned, and the property ceded to the city of Paris, with a stipulation to erect a place upon the site. Mansard, who furnished the first plans, was charged with the second; and the buildings, as they now stand, were begun in 1699, and finished by the financier Law. The form of the place is a symmetrical octagon, the larger sides of which measure respectively, four hundred and twenty and four hundred and fifty feet. Two wide streets, forming the only entrances to it, the Rue de la Paix and the Rue de Castiglione, equisect its northern and southern sides. The buildings are uniform, consisting of a rustic basement surmounted by upper stories, ornamented with Corinthian pilasters, and high roofs pierced with lucarne windows. The middle of each side is graced with a pediment supported by Corinthian columns. This place was first called the Place des Conquêtes, then the Place Louis le Grand, and afterward the Place Vendome. In the middle formerly stood a colossal equestrian statue of Louis XIV., in bronze, erected in 1669, but demolished the tenth of August, 1792; the bronze figures that ornamented its base were saved, and are still to be seen in the Musée de la Sculpture Moderne. The mutilated pedestal remained till 1806, when it was replaced by the triumphal pillar, erected by Napoleon, to commemorate the success of his arms in the German campaign of 1805. This column is an imitation of the pillar of Trajan at Rome, of which it preserves the proportions on a scale larger by one-twelfth. Its total elevation is one hundred and thirty-five feet, and the diameter of the shaft is twelve feet. The pedestal is twenty-one feet in hight, and from seventeen to twenty in breadth. The pedestal and shaft are of stone, covered with bass-reliefs, representing victories of the French army, in bronze, made from twelve hundred pieces of brass cannon taken from the Russians and Austrians. The metal employed in this monument weighs about three hundred and sixty thousand pounds. The bass-reliefs of the pedestal represent the uniforms, armor and weapons of the conquered troops. Above the pedestal are garlands of oak, supported at the four angles by eagles, each weighing five hundred pounds. The door, of massive bronze, is decorated with crowns of oak, surmounted by an eagle of the highest finish; above is a bass-relief, representing two figures of Fame, supporting a tablet, with an inscription in honor of Napoleon, and commemorating the victories which the column was erected to celebrate. The bass-reliefs of the shaft pursue a spiral direction to the capital, and display, in chronological order, the principal actions, from the departure of the troops from Boulogne to the battle of Austerlitz. The figures are three feet high; their number is said to be two thousand, and the length of the scroll eight hundred and forty feet; a spiral thread divides the lines, and bears inscriptions of the actions they represent. The figure of Napoleon on the top of the column, is eleven feet high. The statue of Napoleon, in imperial robes, was melted down in 1814, to form a part of the equestrian statue of Henry IV., but was replaced by Louis Philippe, May first, 1832, clad in military costume, shrouded by crape. From the summit of the monument, which is reached by a spiral staircase, there is a splendid view of the capital, and admission is obtained through one of Napoleon’s veterans, who keeps the door.
THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.
This celebrated monument, a view of which is given in the cut on the next page, is in the town of Charlestown, Mass., on the hill where the first battle was fought between the provincial and British troops in the war of the revolution. The hill was originally called Breed’s hill, Bunker hill being to the north of it, at the entrance of the peninsula on which Charlestown is situated. On this hight a detachment of one thousand men were directed to intrench themselves, on the night of the sixteenth of June, 1775. By some mistake, they proceeded to Breed’s hill, which is nearer Boston, and which has since been called Bunker hill, as the name is associated with the battle. The men had worked with such secrecy, that by the dawn of day they had, unperceived by the enemy, thrown up a redoubt eight rods square. The incessant fire from the shipping and a battery on Copp’s hill, in Boston, did not prevent the Americans from completing by midday, with great labor and fatigue, a slight breastwork from the redoubt to the bottom of the hill on the east side. Between twelve and one o’clock, the British, to the number of three thousand men, with a portion of artillery, under Generals Howe and Pigot, landed in Charlestown, and having formed their men in two lines, advanced slowly to the attack, frequently halting to allow their artillery time to fire. The Americans, in their intrenchments, coolly waited their approach. It is said that General Putnam, who was a leader, though Colonel Prescott had the chief command, told the men that they had not a charge of powder to waste, and exhorted them not to fire upon the enemy till they could see the whites of their eyes. They were suffered to approach to within ten or twelve rods, when these practiced American marksmen fired with such deadly aim as to throw the British ranks into confusion, and cause them to retreat precipitately to the bottom of the hill. By the efforts of their officers they were formed a second time and advanced to the attack. The Americans waited till they were within five or six rods, when they again opened a destructive fire, which brought them to a stand and threw them into confusion. At this critical moment General Clinton arrived from Boston, and succeeded in rallying his men, and in bringing them to a charge, while some cannon were brought to a station that enabled them to rake the breastwork from end to end. The works were now attacked with fixed bayonets, and as the Americans were not furnished with them, and they found their ammunition beginning to fail, they were obliged to retreat over Charlestown neck. The British were victorious; but it was a dearly bought victory. Their loss, by the acknowledgment of General Gage, was ten hundred and fifty-four killed and wounded; while the engagement was particularly fatal to the officers, as they were singled out by the American marksmen. Nineteen commissioned officers were killed, and seventy wounded. Of the men, two hundred and twenty-six were killed, and eight hundred and twenty-eight wounded; while of the Americans, who had only fifteen hundred men engaged, only one hundred and forty-five were killed, and three hundred and four wounded and missing.
On the site of this celebrated battle, sixty-two feet above the level of the harbor, on ground purchased for the purpose, the Bunker hill monument, a splendid obelisk, has been erected. The corner-stone was first laid by La Fayette, on the fiftieth anniversary of the battle, in the presence of an immense concourse of citizens, the seventeenth of June, 1825, when an address was delivered by Daniel Webster. This foundation, however, having been found insufficient, the corner-stone of the present structure was laid, in a more substantial manner, in March, 1827; and the monument was completed the twenty-third of July, 1842. The obelisk is thirty feet square at the base, and sixteen and one-third feet at the top; and is substantially built of hewn Quincy granite. The hight from the base to the top of the apex, is two hundred and twenty-one feet; and the cost of the work was about one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. The interior is circular, having a diameter of ten feet and seven inches at the bottom, and of six feet and four inches at the top, and is ascended by two hundred and ninety-four steps. The top is an elliptical chamber, about eighteen feet high, with four windows, the view from which is truly magnificent, embracing Boston, and its harbor and environs, together with the mountain scenery in the distance, and the adjacent towns nearer at hand. The monument consists of ninety courses of hewn stone, eighty-four above the base, and six below it. There are a number of windows in the sides, closed with iron shutters, beside numerous apertures. The completion of the monument in 1842, was hailed by the firing of cannon, and other testimonials of rejoicing. The monument itself, being the most elevated object in the vicinity, will serve as a landmark to seamen, and will long stand in commemoration of the brave men who here fought, and many of whom fell, in defense of the rights of their country, nobly contributing to the independence of the United States.
THE ARC DE TRIOMPHE.
This triumphal arch, says a late tourist, “is one of the most wonderful conceptions of that wonderful man, Napoleon. It was begun by him, but finished by his successors. This stupendous fabric strikes one with astonishment; and after we had opportunity to compare it with the triumphal arches of the Roman emperors, we were still more impressed with its grandeur. Dimensions are indispensable, if we would produce in others any correct conceptions of structures or space; but they fail to impress the mind as does the actual vision, and this is eminently the fact with this elaborate work. Napoleon decreed its erection in 1806, after his successful campaigns in Prussia and Germany. The plan of the triumphal arch was furnished in 1809. The foundations were sunk twenty-five feet below the surface, and it was only above ground in 1811. In 1814, the works were suspended, and remained neglected until 1823. After various interruptions, the pile was finished by Louis Philippe in 1836, thirty years from the decree which gave birth to it, and from the laying of the first stone. The cost was ten million, four hundred and twenty thousand francs, or over two million dollars. The monument consists of a vast central arch, ninety feet in hight by forty-five in width, over which rises a bold entablature, frieze and cornice. There is also a transversal arch, fifty-seven feet high and twenty-five feet wide. The total hight of the structure is a hundred and fifty-two feet, and its breadth and depth are a hundred and thirty-seven and sixty-eight feet respectively. These dimensions are more than realized by actual inspection. The panels, frieze, and pediment of this structure, are covered by figures in bold relief, eighteen feet in hight, three times the size of life, and those above are half of this size. All of them illustrate the history of France, and they are chiefly warlike. One group may be mentioned as an example. Victory is crowning Napoleon with a laurel wreath; History is writing the narrative of his deeds, and Fame, soaring above, is proclaiming them with her trumpet.
“The observer should ascend the monument, when he will realize more than ever its great hight and magnitude, and its massy materials. An aged woman at the door furnished us with a lantern for our ascent through dark passages. The stairs are easy, although narrow, and we mounted, without difficulty, up the two hundred and sixty-one steps. The floor which covers the arches, is composed of very large stones, hewn into perfect symmetry. Notwithstanding the mountain weight of this structure, not the slightest crack in the massy stones, or opening in the joints, can be perceived, in any part of the pile. The top affords a secure and convenient place for observation, and from this place the observer enjoys a glorious view of Paris and its environs. Away into the country stretches interminably, as far as the eye can discern, a beautiful road, almost of the same ample width as that of the broad avenue, at the head of which the triumphal arch stands. Looking from the arch to the north, the avenue leads through and along the Elysian Fields, the Place de la Concorde, the gardens and palace of the Tuilleries, the Carrousel and palace of the Louvre, all of which are in one continuous line of two or three miles. On our right, looking east, are the dome of the Invalides, the extensive Champs de Mars, and the Ecole Militaire near that field. The triumphal arch of Napoleon in the Carrousel, the cathedral of Notre Dame, and the commemorative column of July, 1830, erected on the site of the ancient Bastile, are seen on the north-east. Alas! how much blood has this arch of triumph cost. The places of ninety-six victories are given on the monument, with the names of the generals by whom they were won, the latter making an aggregate of three hundred and eighty-four.”
THE COOPER INSTITUTE.
This is a structure, not yet complete, but to be of huge proportions, the foundations of which are imbedded deep in the earth, there resting on masses of stone, from which, as they rise from the ground, they ascend in columns and arches of iron. It is situated near the upper part of Broadway, in the city of New York, not far from the Astor library, the Bible house, and the fine building of the Mercantile Library Association. Like the Bible house it covers a whole block, and extends on every side as far as the streets which surround will allow. The space inclosed is nearly three-quarters of an acre. The ground is excavated to the depth of twenty-five feet, to lay the broadest foundations, and also to furnish space below the level of the street for a large hall, which may be used for public assemblies. Here, under one corner, is to be a complete apparatus for the manufacture of gas, and also for warming and ventilating the whole building. From the pavement the edifice rises to six stories, reaching a hight nine feet above the Bible house. The lower story, which, from its long row of iron arches, presents a noble appearance, is intended for stores, the rent of which will be a perpetual endowment for the support of the institution. The second story is to be fitted up for offices, which will also be a source of revenue. With the third story, commences the portion of the edifice devoted strictly to scientific purposes. Here, occupying the body of the building, is a hall, which will hold four thousand people, and will probably be found the best place for lectures in the city, being much more spacious and elegant than the Tabernacle. It will not be quite so large as the Academy of Music, which is out of all proportion with ordinary speaking and hearing; but it will hold as large an audience as can well get within the sound of one man’s voice. On this floor, a room of ample dimensions is set apart for a school of design for ladies. This is an admirable feature in the plan. It will furnish hundreds of young women, who have a taste for drawing, with facilities for becoming perfect in that accomplishment, and also with a means of support for such as wish to teach. Another spacious apartment is devoted to Egyptian antiquities. The fine collection brought to this country by Dr. Abbott has been secured, and will form one of the attractions of the Cooper Institute. Here will be placed the famous bulls, and all the wonders brought from the land of the Nile. Other divisions of the building will contain collections of natural history, of beasts, birds and reptiles. Thus will be formed a grand museum, bringing together what is rare and curious from the earth, air and sea. Here, too, the mineralogist and the botanist will find a place for their collections, and the chemist be furnished with his laboratory. Connected with these departments, there will be professors and courses of lectures. The design of the benevolent founder is to furnish to young men, free of expense, an education in any branch of science or art. In many of its features, this institution is modeled after the Polytechnic school in Paris. To every young man who has a thirst for science, is here afforded the means of satisfying it. The fountains of knowledge will be open to him, and he may drink freely. We doubt not, many will avail themselves of this opportunity. Sir Humphrey Davy once said, the greatest discovery he ever made was the discovery of the poor Irish boy, Michael Faraday, now the world-renowned professor of London. May not such a one yet be picked up in the streets of New York, who will here find open to him a path to science and to fame. Many a country lad, whose desire for knowledge can not be satisfied in a district school, will here find an ampler field of study. In future years, the dwellers in that part of the city will often see, at midnight, the lights gleaming in those high windows, where ardent youth pore over books, exploring that world of science then, for the first time, opened to their gaze. In another year, i. e., by 1856, we hope to see it in full operation. A structure so immense, of course, can advance but slowly. It has been delayed, also, for want of stone, and in order to have made, specially for this building, iron girders, which take the place of wood, and which give greater strength and security. It is guarded against fire, in every possible way, and built in the firmest manner; and when completed, it will be a huge mass of rock and iron. It is built to last for ages, and will stand as a monument to the liberality of a private individual, who, having, on this very spot, begun life himself as a poor boy, and risen, by a long course of industry, to be one of the merchant princes of the land, desired to found an institution for the benefit of the young men of his native city.
VERGNAIS’S IMPROVED BRIDGE.
Various plans have from time to time been formed, for giving strength and security to bridges; the history of which, from the time when streams were first crossed by rude logs or trees thrown over them, up to the latest inventions, would be full of interest. One of the latest improvements in this department, designed and invented by an ingenious French engineer, M. Vergnais, is presented in the preceding cut. It was originally intended to be thrown across the river Seine, at Paris. Some years ago, a wire suspension bridge at Angiers gave way, while a body of troops was crossing, precipitating an entire regiment into the water, with a terrible loss of life. Since that dreadful catastrophe there has always been a feeling of aversion in France, toward the erection of suspension bridges. The ingenious improvement here presented is designed to relieve all possible danger of breakage, and yet allow of the construction of a bridge of gigantic proportions, without in the least impeding navigation. In the ordinary suspension bridge, the main cables sustain the entire weight, and should the connection between the bridge and the cables give way, or either of the cables break, a most melancholy end awaits all who have happened to be trusting their lives to its security at the moment. In the application of Vergnais’s improvement, the utmost security is afforded. A monster arch of iron is thrown across from shore to shore. This arch is composed of such strong materials as not to require great bulk, so that it presents an aerial appearance. The flooring of the bridge is suspended from the arch by innumerable pendants of iron, so that the weight of a body, in crossing the bridge, is brought to bear gradually upon the structure, and when it reaches the center, where common bridges are the weakest, under this invention it reaches the strongest part, for it is directly beneath the arch. Besides, should any of the pendants give way, the entire bridge does not yield, for it is impossible for all the pendants to break at once. This plan is certainly a new and novel one, so far as suspension bridges are concerned. We hope that the inventor will be encouraged to erect them in this country. Railroad companies will find them to be in every way advantageous to their interest, since the cars may run across them at the highest speed, with perfect security.
RAILROAD BRIDGE AT PORTAGE, NEW YORK.
A group of natural and artificial wonders more varied and magnificent than at Portage, N. Y., is not to be found in this land of sublime scenery and rapid improvement. It is destined to be a Mecca of travel, only to be classed with the White mountains, Niagara and the Mammoth cave. No descriptive language will appear exaggerated to one who visits the scene, or studies the measurements and details now presented. These do not tell half the story; a complete account would require a guide-book of pen-and-pencil sketches. The small village of Portage lies on the Genessee river, at a point where it enters a stupendous gorge, which continues seventeen miles, in a north-east direction, to Mount Morris. Here it flows into the famous Genessee valley, which extends from Dansville to Rochester, and is a level tract of rich farms and shaded meadows, that are said to resemble English park scenery more than anything in our country. The river enters the lake a few miles below the Rochester falls, thirty miles north of Mount Morris. To begin back, just below Portage village is a noble aqueduct of the Genessee canal: this is built of hewn limestone, and is much like the high bridge at Harlem, in size and appearance. Passing this and advancing into the river-gulf, with the Genessee on one hand, the canal on the other, and two hundred and fifty feet of wooded declivity inclosing both, a short walk brings you suddenly to the new bridge of the Buffalo and New York city railroad. The first and last look at this bridge must be one of dumb amazement. It is the crystal palace of all bridges. How any mortal ever conceived, or having conceived ever dared to attempt carrying it into execution, passes our comprehension. Resting on six heavy stone basements in the water, and as many more on the land, it rises to the immense hight, for a bridge, of two hundred and thirty-four feet, and is eight hundred feet long, lifting its immense net-work of timber, as if a whole village of house-frames and rectangular streets were raised up and set perpendicularly on edge. The first fall of the river, a sidelong, broken descent of sixty feet, is a few steps below the structure, and visible from its top, long before reaching which the ascending mist is dissipated. One and a half million feet of timber, being the product of two hundred acres of land, together with thirty tuns of iron spikes, were required for this climax of modern engineering. The cost is estimated at one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. Before the work had reached its completion, the railroad passengers were taken in carriages two miles around from one end of the bridge to the other, a very comfortable hotel having been erected at the eastern extremity. Below the monster bridge and its waterfall, the river chasm widens into a deep basin of hills, with a pond in the center, and the second fall, a descent of eighty feet, at the lower extremity. This grand natural temple of cliffs, has thus at each end an organ with a shining range of silver pipes; on the left side are several galleries in the shape of canal aqueducts of wood, built to avoid the incessant slides of quicksand; and, at the upper entrance, the six-story bridge furnishes fifty rostrums for as many orators. Connected with the lower falls is a singular semicircular chasm, and, at its base, a cave, worn by water, which, as a matter of course, has been afflicted with a Satanic name: it is of difficult access. Here begin the imposing precipices of three hundred feet in hight, forming, at this point, a mighty amphitheater, around the eastern brink of which winds the canal, protected by a stone parapet. A gigantic tunnel was first constructed, and still remains in part; but the rock proved so insecure, that the overhanging roof was thrown off, at great expense, into the river, and the bed of the canal laid in cement. Nearly the whole array of these wonders could be brought into one view from a high point on the western bank, where the artist Cole, when this scenery was in its pristine wildness, once took a sketch for a very large autumnal picture, which is now in the possession of Hon. W. H. Seward. Some distance below the places now described, is a third fall, very grotesque in its features, and made remarkable by a tall natural tower, left by the wearing of the river and surmounted by a crown of foliage.
THE BRITANNIA TUBULAR BRIDGE.
This wonder of modern engineering, a view of which is given in the cut, forms part of the railroad from Chester to Holyhead, and is thrown over the Menai strait which separates Caernarvon, in Wales, from the island of Anglesey. This strait appears to the eye as a beautiful river, half a mile wide, through which the tide, which here rises twenty and twenty-five feet, rushes with great rapidity and force. The tubular bridge over it is one hundred feet above high-water level, and formed of long, hollow, rectangular tubes, one for up, and the other for down trains, composed of wrought-iron boiler-plates riveted together, and resting on huge and massive towers of masonry. Of these tubes or galleries, eight in number, four for each line, the four shortest are each two hundred and thirty feet, and the four longest each four hundred and seventy-two feet in length. The middle and largest pier or tower, is sixty-two feet by fifty-two at the base, and rises majestically to a hight of two hundred and thirty feet. The workmen engaged upon this bridge, with their wives and families, were equal in number to the population of a moderately sized town, and had the usual provisions for large communities, of a clergyman, schoolmaster, surgeon, etc. The entire cost of the stupendous structure, was about three million, five hundred thousand dollars. The number of rivets used in fastening the tubes of this bridge was over two million; and the entire length of it is eighteen hundred and thirty-four feet. Silliman says of this immense and ingenious structure, that it “is wonderful. To construct,” he adds, “a vast tube of iron strong enough to admit of railroad trains passing safely through it; to build it in separate pieces down on the common level; to float them to the site, and there raise them to their elevation of one hundred feet, and place them on firm pillars of masonry as supports, and then to unite them into one continued tube, as part of the grand railroad connection between London and Holyhead and Ireland, is an achievement which must forever place the name of Robert Stevenson above all praise.” To show the immense strength of this bridge, he goes on to say, “An enormous weight of between three and four hundred thousand pounds, caused a depression of the level only three inches. The ordinary pressure of the railroad trains produces a depression of one-eighth of an inch, or even less, discernible only by instruments. A pressure of more than six hundred thousand pounds produced a deflection of less than an inch and a half. As works of art, this bridge, and the one next to be mentioned, are triumphs of mechanical skill and science, and they not only establish the connection which has been named between Wales, Anglesey and Ireland, but they afford the prospect of a still more important connection from Galway, in Ireland, to Nova Scotia, by steamers, thus bringing Europe and America within a week of each other. The most massy stone pier, the Britannia, was erected upon a firm rock which is in the middle of the river. The term tube, as here applied to the body of the bridge, may convey an erroneous idea; for instead of being round, it is square. It is an immense iron corridor, or parallelopiped, closed in, forming a horizontal iron gallery, or passage, in which the rails are laid. It is thirty feet high in the middle, and twenty-two feet toward the ends.
“This stupendous structure proves to be a very delicate thermometer. A little sunshine raises the center an inch, (as the expansion can not extend downward,) and produces a horizontal deflection or swelling of an inch and a half. For every fifteen degrees of Fahrenheit, it expands one ten-thousandth of its length, or half an inch. Alternate sunshine and showers of rain, cause the tubes to expand and contract. If one of the tubes was placed on end in St. Paul’s churchyard, London, it would rise one hundred and seven feet higher than the top of the cross. The rivets that unite the plates are an inch in diameter; they were put in red-hot, and beaten with heavy hammers, and in cooling, they contracted so strongly as to draw the plates together with a force requiring four to six tuns to make them slide on each other. The tubes were raised from their position afloat on the water, by means of a Brahmah hydraulic press, into which the water was injected by powerful steam-engines. The force exerted by this power would throw water nearly twenty thousand feet high; more than five times the hight of Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales, and almost five thousand feet higher than the summit of Mont Blanc. The greatest number of men employed at any one time on this bridge, was two thousand, and the fatal casualties were seven. The second tube was floated to its place December fourth, 1849, and the opening of the bridge by the passage of cars took place March fifth, 1850. It may be deflected thirteen inches without injury, and would bear a weight of one thousand tuns.”
THE SUSPENSION BRIDGE.
In the same vicinity, and over the same strait, is the great suspension bridge, which, when it was finished in 1826, was deservedly esteemed one of the wonders of the world, and is still entitled to hold that rank. It is indeed a stupendous structure, of which the full details may be learned from the official reports; but the following are among the principal facts. It is one hundred feet above the water, so that the ships, even those of a large size, are not impeded, and can pass under it without lowering a sail or a spar. The bridge is built out upon arches from both sides of the river, to a certain distance, leaving the space between the points of suspension, five hundred and sixty feet. The platform is about thirty feet wide. The whole is suspended from four lines of strong iron cables, by perpendicular iron rods, five feet apart. The cables pass over rollers, on the tops of pillars, and are fixed to iron frames under ground, which are kept down by masonry. The weight of the whole bridge between the points of suspension is four hundred and eighty-nine tuns. The massy materials of which this bridge is composed, the admirable manner in which they are locked together, the great elevation at which it crosses this grand strait, its persistence without sign of failure during more than a quarter of a century, its importance as a connecting link between England and Ireland, and the result of this early effort to conquer formidable physical difficulties, fill the beholder with admiration and delight, and do lasting honor to Mr. Telford, the distinguished architect.
GREAT RAILWAY SUSPENSION BRIDGE AT NIAGARA FALLS.
We have before, on page 265, given some account of this vast structure as it was, when so far completed as to be used for ordinary passage. But we advert to it again here, both because it has since had added to it the superstructure for railway-trains, and also that we may bring in comparison, the first suspension bridge ever attempted, (an account of which has been given,) and one of the last and largest ever undertaken. The first train of cars passed over this bridge on the ninth of March, 1855, from the Canada to the American shore, the engine and tender being crowded with people, having the English and American colors flying, while bands of music were playing alternately the national airs of Great Britain and of the United States. The opening of this mighty and magnificent structure, well worthy of being classed with the world’s wonders, really forms an epoch in the history of the world. It unites with strong iron bands two countries, to the intelligence and enterprise of whose inhabitants the bridge owes its existence, and stands a fitting monument. Its strength can never be fully tested; the weight of a fully laden train being but a trifle in comparison to its capacity. A train of eight cars, filled with passengers, two baggage-cars, locomotive and tender, weigh but about one hundred and thirty tuns; this being only one-sixtieth of its immense capacity. The railway portion of the bridge is leased to and controlled by the Great Western railway company, and has laid upon it tracks of three different gauges, viz., the New York Central, four feet and eight and a half inches; the Elmira and Niagara Falls, six feet; and the Great Western, five feet and six inches, thus affording facilities for the transit of both passengers and freight, without change of cars. The following statistics will give some idea of this immense structure and its capacity.
Length of span from center to center of towers, 822 feet. Hight of tower above rock on the American side, 88 feet. Hight of tower above rock on the Canada side, 78 feet. Hight of tower above rock on the floor of railway, 60 feet. Number of wire cables, 4 Diameter of each cable, 10 inch. Number of No. 9 wires on each cable, 3,659 Ultimate aggregate strength of cables, 12,409 tuns. Weight of superstructure, 750 tuns. Weight of superstructure and maximum loads, 1,250 tuns. Maximum weight the cable and stays will support, 7,200 tuns. Hight of track above water, 234 feet.
OTHER IMMENSE BRIDGES.
At Peru, in Illinois, is the great bridge of the Illinois Central railroad, which is thirty-five hundred feet, or nearly two-thirds of a mile long. This is perhaps the greatest work of the kind in all the western states. It reaches from bluff to bluff, is seventy-five feet in hight, and contains over one million feet of lumber, beside immense quantities of iron and stone. The top is covered with tin, and made water-tight; the trains of cars are to run on the top of all; and beneath them, and between the frames, pass the roads for wagons; while underneath all are the river and canal. An ornamental railing is placed on each side of the track.
Another large bridge, on the suspension principle, is that over the Mississippi, near St. Anthony and Minnesopolis, in Minnesota. The work consists of a wire suspension bridge, of one span of six hundred and thirty feet, having seventeen feet of roadway, connecting the western bank of the Mississippi river with Nicollet island, about one hundred yards above the first break of its waters into rapids above the falls.
But perhaps the largest bridge ever built, will be, when completed, that now erecting over the St. Lawrence, called the Victoria (railroad) bridge, which is to be an immense iron tube, ten thousand, two hundred and eighty-four feet, or nearly two miles long. It is to be set on twenty-four piers, from two hundred and twenty to three hundred feet apart. At the highest point it will be some sixty feet from the water; and it is estimated that it will take at least five years to finish it. These are some of the largest bridges, (in addition to those already particularly mentioned,) ever erected in any part of the world.
THE HIGH BRIDGE AT HARLEM.
The High bridge at Harlem, a view of which is given in the cut below, forms part of the immense works erected to bring the water of the Croton river into the city of New York. The dam at the river, which is seventy feet wide at the bottom, seven feet wide at the top, and two hundred and fifty feet long and forty feet high, creates a pond five miles long, covering a surface of four hundred acres, and containing five hundred million gallons of water. From this the aqueduct proceeds, sometimes tunneling through solid rocks, crossing valleys by embankments, and brooks by culverts, till it reaches the Harlem river, a distance of thirty-three miles. It is built of stone, brick and cement, arched over and under, and is made large enough to discharge sixty millions of gallons every twenty-four hours. It crosses the Harlem river on a magnificent bridge of stone, fourteen hundred and fifty feet long, having fourteen piers, eight of them bearing arches of eighty feet span, and seven others of fifty feet span, one hundred and fourteen feet above tide-water at the top. The aqueduct then passes on to a first, or receiving reservoir, which covers thirty-five acres and will hold one hundred and fifty million gallons, and thence to the second, or distributing reservoir, which holds twenty million gallons, whence it is distributed by pipes through the city. The entire cost of the work has been fifteen million dollars.
THE BOSTON RESERVOIR.
The mention of the High bridge at Harlem, and its connection with the aqueduct which brings the Croton water to the city of New York, suggests some notice of the aqueduct by which water is brought to the city of Boston, Massachusetts. So early as 1795, an association was formed in Boston for supplying the inhabitants with pure water; and for years it was brought from Jamaica pond, in Roxbury, some four miles distant, in logs which were bored for the purpose. These logs were capable of supplying some fifty thousand gallons daily, which could be raised to the hight of forty-nine feet above tide-water. This supply, however, was soon found inadequate to the wants of the city, though in 1845, some fifteen miles of pipes had been laid, and some three thousand houses were regularly supplied with water. A plan was therefore formed in 1845, to supply the city with water from Lake Cochituate, or Long pond, as it was formerly called, about twenty miles west of Boston. This lake covers a surface of some six hundred and fifty acres, is seventy feet deep, and drains the springs, it is supposed, of some eleven thousand acres. Its elevation is one hundred and twenty-four feet above spring-tide, so that the descent is such as to make the conveyance of water to the city both easy and sure. The water is carried in a brick conduit or tunnel, high enough for a man to walk upright in, as far as the receiving reservoir in Brookline, and from there is taken in thirty and thirty-six inch pipes to the distributing reservoir on Beacon hill, in Boston. It is this reservoir, a view of which is given in the cut beyond, from which the water is distributed in pipes throughout the city. The average daily supply of water needed for the present population of Boston, is about five million gallons. The water-works are capable of supplying twenty million gallons daily; and the Cochituate lake is capable, (by laying down another main pipe,) of supplying forty million gallons daily. The supply of the lake is fully equal to the wants of half a million of people.
AQUEDUCT AT THE PEAT FOREST CANAL.
This aqueduct forms part of the Peat Forest canal, which is a branch of one of the canals extending out from Manchester in England. The latter city is the great center of the cotton manufacture for England, and perhaps the principal manufacturing town in the world. Before the invention of what was called the spinning-frame, in 1767, the entire imports of cotton into Great Britain did not amount to four million pounds a year, and the value of exported cotton goods was not over one million dollars. But so rapid has been the improvement of machinery, and the increase of manufactures, that in 1840 the imports of cotton amounted to the prodigious quantity of nearly six hundred million pounds, of which nearly five hundred million were manufactured. And in 1854, these imports amounted to nearly nine hundred million pounds, of which about the same proportion was manufactured as in 1840. Of this immense manufacture, Manchester is the center; and to this may be added various other manufactures, as in silks, worsteds, machinery, &c., &c., &c. As a consequence of this immense business, seeking, of course, outlets to market, Manchester has become a great center of internal navigation. So early as 1761, the Duke of Bridgewater’s canal was constructed; and this was soon followed by the Bury and Bolton canal, in 1791; by that to Ashton and Oldham, in 1792; and by that to Rochdale, in 1794. And these, again, are connected with other canals in such a manner as to establish an easy communication with the eastern, central and southern counties, including the ports of Hull, London and Bristol, as well as Liverpool, which, of all others, is the port of Manchester. It is on one of these side canals that the aqueduct, a view of which is given in the cut above, is located; or rather, it forms part of the canal itself. It is not so much to be noted for its greatness or expensiveness, as for the fact that it was among some of the earliest structures of this kind, which have since become common wherever canal navigation is known.
THE THAMES TUNNEL.
A tunnel, in engineering, is a subterranean passage cut through a hill, or under a river, for the purpose of carrying a canal, road, or railway, &c. One of the most remarkable works of this kind, ever executed, is the tunnel under the river Thames, planned by Mr. Brunel, and successfully executed under his direction. Two previous attempts had been made to carry a tunnel under the river; one in 1799, and the other in 1804; but both were unsuccessful. In 1824, however, an act of parliament, authorizing operations on the plan of Mr. Brunel, was obtained; and shortly after the work was commenced. A short account of the progress of the work will probably be the best mode of conveying a notion of the nature and difficulty of tunneling in general.
Mr. Brunel began his operations by making preparations for a shaft fifty feet in diameter, which he commenced one hundred and fifty feet from the river on the Surrey side; this he effected by constructing on the surface of the ground a substantial brick cylinder of that diameter, forty-two feet in hight and three feet in thickness. Over this he set up a steam-engine, necessary for pumping out the water, and for raising the earth to be taken from within the cylinder, and then proceeded to sink it bodily into the earth. By this means he succeeded in passing through a bed of sand and gravel twenty-six feet deep, constituting, in part, a quicksand, and in which the drift-makers of the former undertaking had been compelled to suspend their work. The cylinder having been sunk to the depth of sixty-five feet, the horizontal excavation was commenced at the depth of sixty-three feet; and in order to have sufficient thickness of ground to pass safely under the deep part of the river, the excavation was made to descend two feet and three inches in every hundred feet. This excavation is thirty feet wide, and twenty-two and a half feet high, and the process of making it may briefly be described as follows.
It was accomplished by means of a powerful apparatus of iron, called a shield, and which consisted of twelve large frames, standing close to each other, like so many volumes on the shelf of a book-case, these frames being twenty-two feet in hight, and about three feet in width. They were divided into three stages or stories, thus presenting thirty-six cells or chambers for the miners. The front of each one of these cells was protected by narrow boards, technically called polling-boards, each of which was separately held in its place by an apparatus constructed for the purpose. The miner commenced by removing the upper polling-board in his division of the shield, thus exposing a small portion of earth; into this earth he made an excavation of six inches in depth, throwing the earth behind him, from whence it was removed to the mouth of the tunnel, and from thence raised by steam to the surface of the ground. He then replaced the polling-board, causing it to press against the face of the newly excavated earth, and thus advancing it six inches beyond the other polling-boards of his division. Then successively taking down the remaining boards, excavating the earth six inches behind them, and replacing the boards six inches further in than before, he very soon had advanced that distance over the whole length of his division. All the other miners in the thirty-six cells having done the same, the framework was moved forward, and six inches more of earth removed. It was in this way, by these slow degrees, that the work was finally completed. As the frame-work advanced, it was closely followed by a solid mass of brick-work, inclosing two arched passages. These two passages were separated by a solid wall, three and a half feet at the top and four at the bottom. Other arches, however, were formed in this wall, for the purpose of opening a communication between one tunnel and the other. The whole of the brick-work is laid in Roman cement, and each archway is finished with a lining of cement, a carriage-road, and a narrow foot-path adjoining the central wall.
This immense enterprise was not finally completed without serious delay and apparently insurmountable obstacles. The works were thrice interrupted: in 1826, by the breaking off of the clay, leaving the shield exposed to the influx of the land-water for six weeks; also in May, 1827, and in January, 1828, when the river broke in and filled the tunnel. This was quickly remedied, however, by filling the holes or chasms with strong bags of clay; the structure, on clearing the tunnel of the water, being found in a most satisfactory state. Some time later, the works were suspended for seven years, owing to the want of funds. Parliament, however, after repeated applications, granted an advance for their completion, and the works were resumed and continued, till they were brought to a successful termination. The cost of the tunnel, with the approaches on both sides of the river, was about three million and a half dollars; much less than the cost of the modern metropolitan bridges which span the Thames between Surrey and Middlesex.
RAILROAD TUNNELS.
The establishment of railroad communication has given rise, both in this country and Europe, to some stupendous undertakings in the way of tunneling; one or two of which are worthy of notice as illustrating the nature and extent of this kind of work. And the first of these which we shall mention, and one of the most remarkable, is the Box tunnel on the Great Western railway in England. This tunnel pierces what is called Box hill, between Chippenham and Bath, part of which is four hundred feet above the level of the track. It is ninety-six hundred and eighty feet long, thirty-nine feet high, and thirty-five wide to the outside of the brick-work. The shafts for making and ventilating it, are thirteen in number, and vary in depth from eighty to three hundred and six feet. The excavation amounted to four hundred and fourteen thousand cubic yards; and the brick-work and masonry, to more than fifty-four thousand cubic yards. The number of bricks used, was thirty million. A tun of gunpowder and a tun of candles were consumed every week for two years and a half; and eleven hundred men and two hundred and fifty horses were kept constantly employed for all that time. For a considerable distance the tunnel passes through freestone rock, from the fissures of which there was, at times, an immense influx of water, by which on one occasion the works were interrupted for a period of nine months. On another occasion after an irruption, water was for some time discharged by the engine at the rate of thirty-two thousand hogsheads a day. This tunnel is on an inclined plane of one in a hundred. There are several other tunnels of great extent in England, such as the Kilsby tunnel, on the London and Birmingham road, which is over seven thousand feet long; and the tunnel from Wapping to Edge hill, on the Liverpool and Manchester road, which is over six thousand feet long, and quite a number of others of five thousand, four thousand, three thousand feet long, &c. One of these remarkable tunnels, is that on the South-eastern or Dover railway, a view of which is given in the cut on the following page, which passes through what is called Shakspeare’s cliff, at Dover, (though the cliff to which the poet alluded has been undermined and thrown down, and the name is now given to another part of the same range,) on the north side of the British channel. This cliff is a high bluff of chalk, on the west of the town, the white appearance of which gave the name of Albion (white) to England. There are two openings in the tunnel; and through these the whizzing locomotives fly along the dizzy precipice, as if it were an ordinary highway. There is, also, a second tunnel in the same cliff. This last is called the Abbot’s-cliff tunnel, and is about a mile in length, coming out on the face of the rock about sixty feet above the sea. The track passes along the front of the rampart for about a mile, and then enters the Shakspeare tunnel, which is also about a mile in length. Thence, again, it issues on the face of the cliff, and proceeds to the station at Dover.
In the United States there are quite a number of railroad tunnels of great extent. One of these is the Blue Ridge tunnel, in Virginia, the length of which, when completed, will be forty-two hundred and sixty feet, of which more than half is already (1855) finished. The work has been commenced on each side of the mountain, and is progressing at the rate of about fifty feet a month, at which rate of progress it would take about three years to complete it.
But probably the most gigantic work ever proposed in the way of tunneling, is the Hoosic tunnel, on the line of the Troy and Greenfield railroad, by which it is designed to shorten the passage from the former place to Boston. This immense tunnel it is proposed to carry through the solid rock of the mountain for a distance of some four miles, and to make it wide enough for a double track for the railroad; the expense of doing which is variously estimated, at from four million to six million dollars. By the ordinary method of drilling and blasting, it would take so long a time, and require so large an expenditure, that all idea of thus accomplishing the work has long since been given up, if, indeed, it was ever entertained. And the plan is, by immense boring machines, constructed for the purpose, to make grooves round large masses of the rock, and when these latter are broken up by blasting, to remove them piece by piece. Several such machines have been invented and constructed with reference to this very work, and one or two of these have been found successful in practice, though the immense strain caused by the boring is such as to require corresponding strength in the borer. To give the necessary ventilation, and now and then light to the tunnel, both when in the course of construction, and especially when finished and in use, it is proposed at proper intervals to sink dry wells, or openings from the top of the mountain, down to the tunnel itself; so that the constant stream of air entering the mouth of the latter, at either end, may be always and steadily passing up through these chimneys or ventilators, thus carrying off the smoke of the engines, or any impurities of the otherwise stagnant air. The work, when completed, if it ever is, will be a monument of enterprise and perseverance, unrivaled in the history of tunneling in this or any other country of the world.
THE COLOSSUS AT RHODES.
This was a celebrated brazen image of Apollo, of the enormous hight of one hundred and five Grecian, or one hundred and twenty-five English feet, placed at the entrance of one of the harbors of the city of Rhodes, (anciently Rhodus,) which is about twenty miles from the coast of Lycia and Caria, in the Mediterranean sea. The island of Rhodes is about one hundred and twenty miles in circumference, and was early occupied by a colony of Greeks from Crete and Thessaly, who in time became both wealthy and powerful. Their capital city was on the east of the island; it was built in the form of an amphitheater, and had numerous splendid buildings, among which was a temple to Apollo. Having for a time submitted to the power of Alexander the Great, they afterward refused to assist Antigonus in his war with Egypt, when he sent his son Demetrius against them, with an immense fleet and army. They, however, being aided by Ptolemy, king of Egypt, were enabled to repulse his forces and to oblige him to agree to a peace. And he being thus reconciled to them, in admiration of the courage they had displayed, presented to them all the engines he had employed in the attack, by the sale of which, for three hundred talents, they raised the famous colossus, a view of which is given in the cut.
This immense statue, as already said, was of brass, and was erected in honor of Apollo, the tutelary god of the island, in acknowledgment of the protection he was supposed to have rendered the Rhodians in their recent conflict. It was the workmanship of Chares, (a pupil of Lysippus, a celebrated sculptor and statuary of Greece,) who, with an assistant, was engaged in the work for more than twelve years. The hight of the statue, as already said, was one hundred and twenty-five feet; its thumb was so large that few people could grasp it; and the fingers were each larger than the bodies of statues of ordinary size. It was hollow, and to counterbalance the weight, and render it steady on its feet, its legs were lined with heavy masonry; and within them, were winding staircases leading to the top of the statue, from which one could easily see Syria, and the ships sailing to Egypt. It is supposed to have stood, with distended legs, on the two moles which formed the entrance of the harbor; but as the city had two harbors, one twenty, and the other fifty feet wide at the entrance, it has been supposed to have been at the narrowest. It bore a light, or lantern, so as to serve as a light-house; but whether on the head, or in one of the hands, as represented in the cut, is not certainly known. The statue was erected B. C. 300, and after having stood about sixty years, was thrown down by an earthquake. After its fall, the Rhodians solicited help from the kings of Macedonia and Egypt, and in other countries, to enable them to restore it; and so great was the commercial importance of Rhodes, that their appeal was promptly met by magnificent gifts; but the oracle at Delphos forbade them again to raise the colossus. The statue then remained in ruins for the space of eight hundred and ninety-four years, when, in the year 672 A. D., it was sold by the Saracens, who were then masters of the island, to a Jewish merchant of Edessa, who loaded nine hundred camels with the metal which had composed it, and which, estimated at eight hundred pounds for each camel-load, would have amounted to seven hundred and twenty thousand pounds’ weight.
The character of Rhodian art was a mixed Græco-Asiatic style, which seems to have delighted in executing gigantic and imposing conceptions; for beside this celebrated colossus, (which was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world,) there were three thousand other statues adorning the city; and of these, about one hundred were on such a scale of size and magnificence, that the presence of any one of them would have been thought sufficient to dignify almost any other spot. The architecture of Rhodes was of the most stately character: the plan of the city was by the same architect who built the Piræus at Athens; and all was designed with such symmetry, that Aristides remarks, “It is as if it had been one house.” The streets were wide, and of unbroken length; and the fortifications, strengthened at intervals with lofty towers, did not appear, as in other cities, detached from the buildings which they inclosed, but by their boldness, and decision of outline, hightened the unity and conception of the groups of architecture within. The temples were decorated with paintings, by Protogenes, Zeuxis, and other celebrated artists of the school of Rhodes; and of one of these pictures, it is said, that when taken to Rome, it was the object of universal admiration. The island, after passing through various fortunes, has, for a long time, been part of the Turkish empire.
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MISCELLANEOUS WONDERS.
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Having dwelt so long on the WONDERS OF NATURE, and the WONDERS OF ART, both ancient and modern, we pass to some of the wonders and curiosities of the world of a miscellaneous nature. Some things are wonders only through their associations, as is the case with many of the localities of Palestine, for example, where the Saviour lived and walked, and wrought his miracles of power and mercy. Some are wonders as exhibiting the inventive powers of man, or the progress of our age as compared with another; some as exhibiting the singularities of nature; and some as combining the wonders both of science and art. The steamboat, the printing-press, the air-balloon, the residence of Washington, the hut of the Kamtschatkadale, the spot where the “Pilgrim Fathers” landed, the telegraph, the diving-bell or armor, the prairie on fire, the nest of the African tailor-bird, each of these, and of a multitude of other things that might be enumerated, is, in some way, or for some reason, associated to our minds with what is more or less wonderful, while still it may not be strictly a wonder either of nature or of art. Some of these we propose now to notice, interspersing them at intervals with some of the more miscellaneous wonders of nature, or art, or both, so as to give variety to the pages that follow. And the first of this class of wonders we will notice, is,
YOULE’S SHOT-TOWER.
This edifice, which is one of the best of its class, is situated at the foot of Fifty-fourth street, on the East river, in the city of New York. It is hexagonal in form, and rises to the hight of one hundred and seventy-five feet; being sixty feet in diameter at the base, and gradually growing smaller as it rises toward the top. It forms a most striking object of interest; and is remarked by the multitudes who pass by it going up and down the sound, to and from New York. When we consider the small size of the article to the manufacture of which this lofty structure is devoted, the means appear greatly out of proportion with the result. Formerly in casting shot, the apparatus was merely a plate of copper, in the hollow of which were punched a number of holes. This was placed a few feet above a kettle of water, into which the melted lead descended, after passing through the holes in the plate. But in falling so short a distance, and being so suddenly cooled and hardened, the shot did not acquire a perfectly globular form, a desideratum which is now attained by means of shot-towers. In the tower of Mr. McCullough, the largest shot falls from the summit of the tower to the bottom of a well twenty-five feet below the surface of the earth, making the descent one hundred and seventy-five feet. The size of the shot is determined by the size of the holes through which it passes. The furnaces for melting the lead are situated near the top of the tower; three or four tuns of shot are manufactured per day. This method of casting shot was invented by Mr. Watt, the celebrated engineer, in consequence, it is said, of a dream. He tried the experiment from the tower of the church of St. Mary, Radcliffe, and finding it very successful, obtained a patent, which he afterward sold for ten thousand pounds. There are now several shot-towers in the vicinity of London, and different parts of the world; but none more worthy of notice than the one of which we are now speaking. An iron staircase ascends from the base to the summit of the tower. Arsenic is mingled with the lead in proportion of forty pounds to one tun. In casting, the metal is poured through a tube, but descends through the open space of the tower in a continual stream of silvery drops. As the weight of the lead prevents it from scattering or being blown about like water-drops, the workmen pass to and fro, without danger, close by this fiery cascade. The shot is of different sizes, from number one, swan shot, to number twelve, dust shot. Mr. James McCullough has brought the art of the manufacture of the shot to perfection. Certain portions of his factory are kept entirely secret; and the shot manufactured in New York are not surpassed in the world. The cause of most of the imperfections in the manufacture of lead shot, is the too rapid cooling of the spherules by their being dropped too hot into the water, whereby their surfaces form a solid crust, while the interior remains fluid, and in its subsequent concretion shrinks so as to produce the irregularities of the shot. The patent shot-towers originally constructed in England, obviate this evil, by exposing the fused spherules, after they pass through the cullender, to a large body of air during their descent into the water-tub placed on the ground. The greatest erection of this kind is probably at Villach, in Carinthia, being two hundred and forty Vienna, or two hundred and forty-nine English feet high. The following is the process. Melt a tun of soft lead, and sprinkle round the sides of the iron pot about two shovelfuls of wood ashes, taking care to leave the center clear. Then put into the middle about forty pounds of arsenic, to form a rich alloy with the lead. Cover the pot with an iron lid, and lute the joints quickly with loam or mortar, to confine the arsenical vapors, keeping up a moderate fire to maintain the mixture fluid for three or four hours; after which, skim carefully, and run the alloy into ingots or pigs. The composition thus made is in proportion of one pig to one thousand pounds of melted lead. Two or three tons are usually melted at once in large establishments. A crust of oxyd of a white spongy nature, sometimes called cream by the workmen, covers the surface of the lead, which is of use to coat over the bottom of the cullender. The cullenders are hollow hemispheres of sheet-iron, about ten inches in diameter, perforated with holes perfectly round and free from burs. These must be of a uniform size in each cullender; but, of course, a series of different cullenders, with sorted holes for every different size of lead shot, must be prepared. The operation is always carried on with three cullenders at a time, which are supported upon projecting grates of a kind of chafing-dish made of sheet-iron, somewhat like a triangle. This chafing-dish should be placed immediately above the fall; while at the bottom there must be a tub half-filled with water, for receiving the granulated lead. The cullenders are not in contact, but must be parted by burning charcoal, in order to keep the lead constantly at the proper temperature, and to prevent its solidifying in the filter. The hight from which the particles should be let fall, varies likewise with the size of the shot; as the congelation is the more rapid, the smaller they are. The workman then puts the filter stuff into the cullender, pressing it well against the sides; he next gently pours lead into it with an iron ladle. The center of the cullender being less hot, affords larger shot than the sides. Occasionally, also, the three cullenders employed together, may have holes of different sizes; the shot will then be of different magnitudes. These are separated by square sieves of different fineness, and after passing through other minute processes, are ready for sale and use.
THE EMPEROR FOUNTAIN.
This splendid fountain, a view of which is given in the cut beyond, is one of the most remarkable in the world, and in commemoration of a visit paid to it in 1844, by the emperor of Russia, it was called the Emperor fountain, though since the outbreak of the war between Great Britain and Russia, the name is said to have been changed to that of the Victoria fountain. It is situated in Chatsworth, one of the most luxurious seats of the English nobility; famous for its exceeding beauty and its costly embellishments. Its walks, lawns, parterres, mimic Alpine scenery, conservatories, gardens, cascades, halls, pictures, and sculpture, and music, and fountains, have all been constructed and arranged with consummate taste and with lavish expense. A month would scarcely suffice to visit all that is worthy of observation in this wonderful place, and perhaps few sights could produce a deeper impression of the wealth possessed by the English aristocracy. We have from this munificent storehouse selected a single object to be delineated by the pencil. The Emperor fountain is fed by immense artificial reservoirs on the hills above Chatsworth, covering eight acres of ground, into which various springs and streams have been diverted. Our American ideas of a fountain are usually limited to a beautiful jet of water forced twenty or thirty feet in hight; hence it is with amazement, if not incredulity, that we hear of the fountain of Chatsworth, which throws its jet to the hight of two hundred and sixty-seven feet! Such is the velocity with which the water is ejected, that it is calculated to escape at the rate of one hundred miles a minute!
THE UNITED STATES MINT IN PHILADELPHIA.
The United States mint was founded in 1790; and the business of coining commenced in 1793, in the building now occupied by the Apprentice’s library. In 1830, it was removed to the fine building it now occupies, on Chestnut street, above Olive street. The edifice is of white marble; and the north front, opposite to Penn square, is one hundred and twenty feet long, with a portico of sixty feet long, having six Ionic columns; while the south front, on Chestnut street, has a similar portico. Since the enormous influx of gold from California, the United States mint has become an object of more than common interest and attention; and the place is usually filled with visitors, watching the various processes the metal goes through before it comes out in finished coin. The machinery and apparatus by which these are accomplished, are of the most complete and perfect character. The rooms in which the smelting, refining, and alloying are done, are spacious apartments in which a large number of workmen are employed. Heaps of the rich ores are to be seen lying around, just as they were extracted from the mines, or gathered in dust from the sands of the mountain-streams of California. Bars of the pure metal, of thousands of dollars’ value, are passing through hands, which like those of the fabled Midas, seem to turn all they touch into gold. The heat of this place is very great; the fires glow with the intensity of those in a foundery; the men, in appearance, resemble the workmen in a smithy; and there is a suffocating sensation of hot air, steam, and perspiration, penetrating the atmosphere, which is anything but pleasant to experience, especially when one is palpitating under the heat of a summer temperature, without the freshness of the open air to modify and alleviate it. Crucibles are handled with iron tongs, and cotton or woolen mittens; and the metal is shaped into bars, and then reduced to the requisite fineness. All this takes place in one apartment.
In another room, is seen a most beautiful steam-engine, which drives all the rolling and stamping machinery. It is of one hundred horse-power, and works the rolling machinery, the draw-benches, and the cutting presses. It is called a steeple-engine, and has two cylinders; its boilers are forty feet long, and forty inches in diameter; and the steam from them also moves a ten horse, and a five horse engine, in the separating and cleaning apartments. This main engine is of the most elegant workmanship, polished like a piece of cutlery, and works with the most admirable precision and regularity, without the least perceptible jar, and with scarcely a noise. From this room, the visitor walks into that where the rolling machines are at work, turning out the metal to the proper degree of thickness which each particular kind of coin requires. The metal is cast into ingots fourteen inches long, and about five-eighths of an inch thick; and these are rolled to very near the proper thickness, when they are passed through the draw-benches to equalize them. The strips are then cut at the presses, which is done at the rate of about two hundred to two hundred and sixty per minute. There are fourteen men employed in this room, two at each pair of rolls. The pieces, as thus cut, then pass to the adjusting room, where each piece is weighed separately, and if too heavy, filed down, or if too light, or any way imperfect, thrown back to be remelted. There are fifty-four females employed in this room. The pieces are next taken to the milling and coining room, where from two hundred to four hundred are milled in a minute, according to their size. In another apartment, the coins are cut with a punch to the desired size, and then stamped. For this purpose they are placed, by a person seated at the machine, in a perpendicular tube, down which they descend, one at a time, being seized as they drop by a part of the machinery, which pushes the coin under the stamp, whence it falls beneath the machine into a glass-covered box. This part of the process used formerly to be performed by a press which required eight men to work its lever and screw; but now the process requires scarcely any manual labor except handling the various pieces of coin. The rapidity with which the pieces are executed, is surprising; being at the rate of from seventy-five to two hundred per minute. Cents, dimes, dollars, eagles and double-eagles are turned out with equal facility, the process being the same in all. Some idea of the extensiveness of these operations may be had, when it is stated, that, in a single month, lately, nearly three million pieces of gold, silver and copper were coined, and that over four million dollars in value are coined every month.
In addition to the other attractions of the mint, there is a most extensive cabinet of coins, ancient and modern, of various nations, which is one of the greatest of curiosities to be found, probably, in any part of the world. Here, too, are exhibited specimens of all the existing or past coins of the mint itself, and models or specimens of any intended coins. The officers and attendants of the mint are polite and attentive to all visitors, and endeavor to make their visit one of instruction as well as amusement; and any one, by calling at appointed hours, can go through the various apartments of the building, and see the various processes which have thus been described.
THE AIR BALLOON.
From the earliest ages, the notion of flying in the air, either by wings or by supernatural agency, seems to have been in the minds of at least some of mankind; but the idea of the balloon, consisting of an envelope containing something light enough to make it rise and float in common air, is comparatively of much later date. It is said that the first definite notion of the balloon originated with a Jesuit, by the name of Francis Lana, who in 1670 conceived the idea of raising metal balls in the atmosphere, which had previously been exhausted of air, but which should be at the same time so thin, as to weigh less than their bulk of air. The experiment, however, he never tried, as, in his age, it was not believed that God would allow an invention to succeed, by means of which civil government could so easily be disturbed. Later experiments have proved that strength to resist the external air is incompatible with the necessary degree of thinness in the material. From this period, one hundred years elapsed, before the idea of raising a body in the air, by means of its being lighter than the air whose space it occupies, was pursued any further. In 1782, an attempt was made to raise bodies filled with hydrogen gas, a substance which, as is well known, is lighter than atmospheric air. The experimenter succeeded, however, in raising nothing heavier than a soap-bubble. In the same year, the brothers Montgolfier, paper-makers at Lyons, attempted to raise a paper balloon by means of hydrogen gas. Being unsuccessful in this, they conceived the idea of applying fire underneath a large balloon of paper built upon a framework of wood, and containing a receptacle for fire in the place where, in modern balloons, the car is suspended. This experiment being so far successful as to show the correctness of the principle, they next made a balloon of linen cloth, and kindled under it a fire made and fed by bundles of chopped straw, apparently with the impression that it was the smoke rather than rarefied air which had the ascending power. The balloon, thus inflated, rose about a mile in a direct line, and then described a horizontal line of about seven thousand feet, after which it gradually sunk. The next attempt was upon a balloon of lutestring dipped in a solution of India rubber, and filled with hydrogen gas. The experiment at first failed, but on the twenty-seventh of August, the same year, at Paris, the balloon rose beautifully to a great hight, and fell about twelve miles off. Soon after, animals (sheep, ducks, &c.) were sent up; and on the fifteenth of October, the first human aeronaut made an ascent of a hundred feet. The balloon, however, was held by a rope, and connection with the earth not entirely severed. A month later, on the twenty-first of November, the daring feat of completely leaving the earth was performed by two gentlemen, one of whom was M. Rosier, and the other the Marquis d’Arlandes. The balloon was a Montgolfier, or one in which the elevating power was air rarefied by fire. The signature of Benjamin Franklin, who at that time was American minister to Paris, is upon the official paper describing the balloon, its dimensions, &c. It was seventy feet high, forty-six in diameter, and carried a weight of from sixteen to seventeen hundred pounds; it rose to the hight of five miles in twenty-five minutes. When the aeronauts wished to ascend still higher, they shook a bundle of straw into the flame; when they wished to sink, they let the fire smolder, or extinguished it with a wet sponge. The attempt was successful, and the voyagers alighted in safety, after an absence of a little less than an hour.
The first trial of a hydrogen balloon was made a week later, from the garden of the Tuilleries, just after sunset. It ascended two miles with perfect ease; its occupants here came in sight of the sun, which seemed to rise again, as at morning, in the east. The balloon and its two travelers were the only illuminated objects, all the rest of nature being plunged in shadow. During the next two years, many ascensions were made by different persons, and successive improvements and inventions were added. The parachute was invented in 1784, and the first attempt at steering a balloon was made in this year, but without success. In 1802, M. Garnerin descended successfully from a great hight by means of a parachute. In 1806, two aeronauts ascended to such a distance, that they came into an atmosphere so rarefied as to burst the balloon. The remnants, however, broke the fall, and they descended in safety. From the beginning of this century to the present day, but little progress has been made in an art which seems destined to be of little service to mankind. No possible means of guiding the balloon have yet been discovered, or any practicable method of giving it a horizontal motion, so as to withdraw it from the influence of winds and currents. It has now become a mere toy, and for any practical or scientific purpose, has long since ceased to be of the slightest account.
One of the largest balloons ever constructed is that of Mr. Green, a celebrated English aeronaut, which is called the Continent, and has made many ascensions from London and Paris. The following account of an ascent from the Hippodrome at Paris, in 1848, is from a leading French journal. It is from the pen of Theophile Gautier, an eminent Parisian romancer and feuilletonist.
“Last Sunday, about five o’clock in the afternoon, Green’s balloon sprung from the inclosure of the Hippodrome into the blue abyss of the heavens. The ascension of a balloon is certainly not a novelty at the present day; but an aerostat, like the one belonging to Green, is not of the ordinary class: its colossal dimensions, the extraordinary care with which it is constructed, the comfort of its arrangements, make it the wonder of aerial navigation, and place it in the rank of a vessel of a hundred guns. To see it swelling its enormous taffeta case under the net-work of cords which holds the car lined with red velvet, one feels perfectly at ease as to the dangerous chances of a voyage through the air. It would seem safer than an excursion in a diligence or upon a railroad. Admitted into the reserved inclosure, we of course saw the departure, being near the spot. Nothing could be more quiet or more gentle. Mr. Green, in a black coat and white cravat, like a gentleman going out to dine, stepped into his carriage—I should say his balloon—with confidence and self-possession. A charming young English girl, accompanied by a friend, had already taken her place in the boat or car. She was calm and smiling; animation tinged her cheeks slightly, but it arose rather from embarrassment at seeing so many eyes fixed upon her, than from any fear whatever. Her intelligent face breathed that confidence in the inventions of human genius, which characterizes the English and American races. A Parisian lady would have screamed loudly.
“The balloon held by cords, trembled, and balanced itself, preparing to take flight. A strong cord still held it to the earth, but soon, upon a signal from Mr. Green, the cable was cut, and the aerial vessel arose steadily, with a movement at once easy, powerful, and of exceeding majesty. As much as the locomotive has an infernal appearance, so has the balloon a celestial one, without any play upon words. The one borrows its auxiliaries from iron, coal, fire and boiling water; the other employs only silk and gas, a thin cloth filled with a light wind. The engine, with its frightful shrieks, its noisy rattling, and its black puffs of smoke, runs upon inflexible rails, roars through the bowels of the earth, and dives into the darkness of tunnels, seeming as if seeking some evil genius who might have invented it; the balloon, without noise and without effort, leaves the earth, where the laws of gravity hold us, and mounts tranquilly up toward heaven. Unhappily, the balloon, like the fancied inspiration of the poet, goes where the wind guides it; this every one knows; while the steam-engine, like prose, goes straight upon its road. Green and his balloon were soon overlooking Paris and all its horizon; long trails of sand, ballast that he threw over to raise himself higher, streaked the heavens with their white tracks, proving, by the time it took them to descend to the earth, the hight to which the intrepid aeronaut had mounted in a few minutes. He had disappeared, while the crowd was still looking for him, in the blue depths of the atmosphere. What a splendid and magnificent spectacle the triumphal arch, and the giant city with its black ants, illuminated by the setting sun, must have afforded him! What greatness, and at the same time what littleness! and how mean, from that distance, must seem the cares and ambitions of the world!
“While looking with the rest of the crowd, a world of thoughts came whirling through our brain. The balloon, which it was endeavored to make perform a useful part in the battle of Fleurus, and at the siege of Toulon, has only been considered, up to this time, as an amusing experiment of natural philosophy. It is made to figure in fetes and in public solemnities; for the crowd, who have more feeling for great things than academies and wise bodies, feel an interest in balloon ascensions, which has not diminished since the first attempts of Montgolfier. It is a profoundly human instinct, which induces us to follow into the air, until it is lost to the sight, this globe swelled with smoke, as if it contained the destinies of the future. Man, the king of creation in intelligence, is, physically, but indifferently endowed. He has neither the swiftness of the stag, the eye of the eagle, the scent of a dog, the wing of the bird, nor the fin of the fish; for everything in man is sacrificed to the brain. All these auxiliaries he has been forced to furnish himself by the skill of his hand and the sweat of his brow. The horse, the carriage and the rail-car make up to him for his want of speed; the telescope and the microscope equal the eagle’s eye; the compass enables him to follow a track as unerringly as a dog; the ship, the steamboat and the diving-bell open to him the dominion of the waters. Nothing remained but the air, where the bird escaped us, followed only a few hundred feet by the arrow or gun, ingenious means of bringing distances nearer together. It really seems as if God should have given us such wings as the painters lend the angels; but the beauty and grandeur of man consist in his not having these giant appendages, or being embarrassed by fins. With the power of thought, and the hand, that admirable tool, he must seek and find, out of himself, all his physical powers.
“The idea of mounting into the air is not new; it is not to-day that Phaeton asked to get into Phœbus’s car, and that Dædalus launched into the air his son Icarus. Their descents were only unaccomplished ascents. The griffins, the hippogriffs, the Pegasus, the winged shoes of Mercury, the arrow of Abarys, the carpet of the four Facardins, testify to the continuance and persistence of this idea. At night, does not the dream deliver us from the laws of weight? Does it not give us the faculty of going, of coming, and of flying to the summit of things before unattainable, or of losing ourselves in the infinite hights? This general and oft-repeated dream, which expresses the secret desire of humanity, has it not something prophetic? Perhaps modern skepticism treats too lightly the meaning of these flights of the soul, temporarily freed from the more earthly control of reason and sense. With the astonishing simplicity of the operations of nature, a miracle took place in the fireplace, without attracting attention, every time that the smoke carried out of the chimney a piece of burnt paper. It required six thousand years to take a hint from this simple fact. The balloon floats in the air as oil floats upon wine, as cork upon water, as the cannon-ball upon mercury, by relations of weight and of lightness, one single law everywhere. But unfortunately, the balloon has neither wings, nor tail, nor neck, nor feet, nothing which can guide it; it is a vessel without sail or helm, a fish without fins, a bird without feathers; it floats, that is all; it is immense, and it is nothing. Why do not all the inventors, wise mechanicians, chemists, poets, occupy themselves by endeavoring to solve the problem of the guiding of balloons? Is it not shameful for man to have found the hippogriff which transports him to the celestial regions, and not to know how to guide it; while every day the birds go and come on airy wings, as if to instruct and defy us? The air, although a fluid, offers points of propulsion, since the condor, or the sparrow, mounts, descends, goes to the right and left, quickly or slowly, as he pleases; and why should not man be able to do the same? The time when he shall do this may be near. That will be a great day! Man will truly become master of his planet, and will have conquered his atmosphere! No more seas, no more rivers, no more mountains, no more valleys; that will be the true reign of liberty. Merely by this knowledge of the direction of balloons, the whole face of the world will change immediately. Other forms of government, other manners, a new style of architecture, a different system of fortification, will be needed; but then men will no longer make war. The custom-house and its taxes, and the stronghold, will disappear. Visit, if you can, with your gauge and your yardstick, balloons ten thousand feet in the air; of what use will be moats, ditches, portcullis and bridges, against an aerial army? What a fine spectacle it will be to see crossing one another in the air, at different hights, these swarms of balloons, painted with brilliant colors, guided during the day by the light, and at night with their lanterns, having the appearance of stars traversing the firmament! The ascension of the highest mountains will then be but child’s play. We shall penetrate into China, and go to Timbuctoo as one goes to St. Cloud; the deserts of Africa, of Asia and of America, will be forced to deliver up their secrets. We shall go even to the border of the atmosphere which surrounds us. We shall visit creation in every nook and recess. There will be servant balloons and master balloons; and in speaking of the luxury or extravagance of a person, it will be said, ‘He is rich; he has a balloon of thirty-four thousand cubic feet of gas;’ which will be equivalent to saying that he has a coach and four. And when this dream is realized, the execution of another, already dreamed by the poets, will be attempted. Man, arrived at the outward limits of his atmosphere, will wish to leave his planet; and will seriously attempt to reach the moon! And who shall say that at some time he shall not do it?”
THE PROGRESS OF NAVIGATION.
One of the wonders of the world, is to be found in tracing the progress of navigation, from its small beginning, up to its present wonderful condition and results. There is an old legend, that, ages ago, a piece of reed floating on the water, first suggested the idea of navigation. And if so, the next step might have been, the use of logs for crossing rivers; then, the use of rafts; then, of canoes of hollowed logs; and then, of artificial boats, of various forms and materials, some of wood, some of skins, and some of bark. The earliest navigators on an extended scale were the Phœnicians, who made voyages through the Mediterranean, and along the northern coasts of Europe, and down the Red sea, as early as the days of Solomon, one thousand years before the Christian era. Their earliest attempts to navigate the waters, might perhaps be represented in the following cut, in which several forms of boats may be seen. Their larger and later vessels were somewhat of the shape of those now in use, though more perhaps of the Dutch, than of the English or American form. The sails of these vessels are said to have been suggested by the little sea animal, called the nautilus. The vessels themselves had no decks, and were not over twenty or thirty tuns’ burden. They had masts and rudders, and the prow was decorated with paint and gilding, and represented the image of some god. The ships of the Greeks and Romans, in after times, were larger, but they were uncouth structures, managed with difficulty, and liable to numerous accidents and hindrances. The war ships were nothing but large row-boats. These were very long and narrow, like canoes. The cable and anchor were later inventions. The latter at first was a large stone. In the days of the Roman emperors, vessels of immense size were occasionally built, but they were of little use, except for the transportation of heavy objects. In the middle ages, navigation made little progress; but about the close of the fifteenth century, its strides were prodigious. The mariner’s compass had been invented, and the sailor had now a guide over the mysterious ocean. Hence America was discovered in 1492, though the three ships of Columbus were not so large as our common schooners, and had no proper decks; so that it seems a wonder to us, that with these comparatively small vessels he should have ventured so far on the mighty deep. From his day to the present, there has been a steady advance in ship-building. The forms of vessels have been improved; their size greatly increased; and their number multiplied, a thousand fold; so that if the great navigator were now again to visit the earth, he would be astonished at the huge structures built as packet and freight ships for crossing the ocean. For a long time, the English took the lead in ship-building; but it is now admitted that the fastest vessels in the world, as well as those of most graceful appearance, are those built in the United States. In the cut above, is a view of one of our large packet-ships, just ready to be launched from the stocks. Vessels of this class may vary from fifteen hundred to two thousand tuns’ burden; their main cabins are beautifully furnished with mahogany and gilded carvings; and no expense is spared that may contribute to their elegance, or the comfort of passengers.
STEAM NAVIGATION.
So far as we know, the ancients were unacquainted with the nature and properties of steam. Some accounts, indeed, have come down to us, of engines of a very early date, such, for example, as that proposed by Hero, of Alexandria, in which the mechanical agency of steam was more or less used; but it does not appear that those who invented and applied these machines, understood the properties of vapor, or had any correct idea of the effect of heat when applied to liquids. Even at a much later date, the effects produced by steam were ascribed, not to the vapor of water, but to the force of the air which was supposed to be expelled from water by heat. In the seventeenth century, De Caus proposed the construction of a machine by which a column of water was raised by the elastic force of steam, but he does not seem to have understood the principle on which it was effected. About the middle of the same century, Lord Worcester published the description of a high pressure steam-engine, which has since formed so remarkable a feature in all histories of steam-engines. Toward the latter end of the century, however, the actual properties of vapor began to be more unfolded. In 1683, Sir Samuel Morland discovered the exact numerical proportion in which water increases its volume when evaporated. A few years later, Papin discovered the method of producing a vacuum by the condensation of steam; and this discovery was, by others, soon applied to mechanical purposes. About the middle of the eighteenth century, Watt applied himself to the improvement of the steam-engine; and from this time forward, the various discoveries of chemistry, and the experiments of scientific and practical men, prepared the way for rapid progress in the application of steam.
In 1793, Fulton, the celebrated engineer, engaged actively in endeavoring to improve inland navigation. Even at that early period, he had conceived the idea of propelling vessels by steam; and he speaks, in some of his manuscripts, with great confidence of its practicability. In 1797, he went to Paris, and, while there, projected the first panorama that was ever exhibited there. He also planned a submarine boat. In 1803, he completed his first steamboat, which was tried upon the Seine, and proved completely successful. He now proceeded to New York, to carry his ideas of steam navigation into practical effect; and in 1807, his first steamboat, a view of which is given in the cut beyond, ascended the Hudson river, to the great delight and wonder of thousands of spectators. She was called the Clermont; and was only one hundred feet long, twelve wide, and seven deep. Her first trip was made, September first, 1807, from New York to Albany, one hundred and sixty miles, in thirty-six hours; the fare for the passage being seven dollars, exclusive of meals. Thus this great man brought to a successful issue his long meditated invention, and determined the possibility of applying steam to navigation. Several steamboats were soon after constructed under Mr. Fulton’s directions, and also a steam-frigate. He continued to make various experiments till his death, which occurred in 1815.
Still later than this, we find a description of the Clyde steamboat, which is spoken of in an English magazine as follows: “Its extreme length is seventy-five feet, its breadth fourteen feet, and the hight of the cabins six and a half feet. She is built very flat, and draws from two feet and nine inches to three feet of water. The best or after-cabin, is twenty feet long, and is entered from the stern: between the after-cabin and the engine, a space of fifteen feet is allotted for goods. The engine is a twelve horsepower, and occupies fifteen feet; the fore-cabin is sixteen feet long, and is entered from the side. The paddles, sixteen in number, form two wheels of nine feet diameter, and four feet broad, made of hammered iron: they dip into the water from one foot and three inches to one foot and six inches. Along the outer edge of these wheels a platform and rail are formed quite round the vessel, projecting over the sides, and supported by timbers reaching down to the vessel’s side. This steamboat runs at the rate of four or four and a half miles per hour in calm weather; but against a considerable breeze, three miles only. It can accommodate two hundred and fifty passengers, and is wrought by five men. The engine consumes twelve hundred weight of coals per day. The funnel of the boiler is twenty-five feet high; and carries a square-sail twenty-two feet in breadth.”
In the same connection, we find an article published in the Monthly Magazine, by Sir Richard Phillips, with the express object of giving clear ideas of the utility of steamboats, and of quieting apprehensions as to their safety, which at the present day it is truly amusing to read. The writer says: “The groundless alarms relative to a supposed increase of danger from traveling by steam-packets, led the editor of the Monthly Magazine, within the current month, (July, 1817,) to make a voyage, in one of them, from London to Margate. This vessel left her moorings, at the Tower of London, about half past eight in the morning, at the time the tide was running strong up the river, and when no other vessel could make progress, except in the direction of the tides. The steam-packet proceeded, however, against the stream, in a gallant style, at the rate of six or seven miles an hour; and a band of music, playing lively airs on the deck, combined with the steadiness of the motion, to render the effect delightful. An examination of the steam-engine, and of her rate of working, proved that no possibility of danger exists. It appeared that the boiler had been proved at twenty-five pounds to the square inch; but that the valve was held down by a weight of only four pounds, and that the mercurial gauge did not indicate an employment of actual pressure of above two pounds and a half per square inch. Hence it follows, that, although the engine was capable of sustaining a pressure of at least twenty-five pounds, only four pounds, or less than a sixth, was the whole force which the valve would permit to be exerted; and that, in point of fact, a pressure of only two pounds and a half to the square inch, or only one-tenth of the proven power of the boiler, was employed. There is, therefore, less danger in passing some hours in contact with such a machine, than there is in sitting near a boiling tea-kettle, tea-urn, or saucepan, under circumstances in which they are often used. Opposite Greenwich, a fine commentary was afforded of the value of steam as a navigating power, in preference to winds and tides; a Margate sailing-packet passing toward London, which had been a day and two nights on its passage, a period of time which it appears is not uncommon. In short, with uninterrupted pleasure, and in an hour sooner than the captain had named at starting, the vessel was carried along-side Margate pier, having employed nine hours in performing a voyage of ninety miles. In this case it appeared, that a pressure of two pounds to the square inch, produced about forty rotations per minute of the acting water-wheels; and, as these were ten feet in diameter, the motion of the impelling floats, or wheel-paddles, would be at the rate of fifteen with, or against the stream, at an average of ten miles an hour. The consumption of coals during the voyage was less than a caldron; but it was described as amounting frequently to a caldron and a half. On the whole, nothing could be more demonstrative of the worth and security of this mode of navigation; and there can be little doubt but, in a few years, vessels of every size, and for every extent of voyage, will be provided with their steam-engine, which will be more used, and more depended upon, than winds or tides. The chances of accidents are lower than those under most other circumstances in which men are placed in traveling. By land, horses kill their thousands per annum, open chaises their hundreds, and stage-coaches their scores; and, by water, the uncertainty of winds has destroyed thousands, by prolonging the voyage, and increasing the exposure to bad weather; but in a steam-packet, navigated by an engine whose proven powers necessarily exceed what can be exerted during its use, or in general by such engines as those used on the Thames or Clyde, no accident can possibly happen; unless, by a miracle, it were to happen, that a force of four pounds should overcome a resistance of twenty-four pounds.”
From the above amusing article, we pass to notice the immense ocean steamers of the present day, as they so forcibly illustrate the progress of steam navigation. The chief lines of those with which we are familiar, are the Cunard line and the Collins line, both plying between the United States and England. Before describing them particularly, however, it should here be mentioned, that the first steamship that ever crossed the Atlantic sailed from Savannah, in Georgia, for Liverpool, on the twenty-sixth of May, 1819, and made the voyage in twenty-two days. She was telegraphed at Liverpool as “a ship on fire” and a revenue-cutter was dispatched to her relief, when the officers and crew of the latter were struck with astonishment at not being able to overtake a vessel under bare poles. At Liverpool, and afterward at Copenhagen, Stockholm, and St. Petersburg, whither she went, she was visited by crowds of wondering people; and at the latter place a service of plate was presented to her officers. She was commanded by Captain Rodgers, of New London, Conn., and some of her officers are still living. After this, it was a long time before another steamship crossed the Atlantic. At last, however, the experiment was again and still again tried, until now the ocean is constantly traversed by the huge steamers above alluded to, in the average time of about eleven days and a half, though the passage has been made, in some single cases, in a little over nine days.
A good idea of these ocean steamers may be formed from the view given of one of them in the cut below, in connection with the following description of the Baltic, belonging to the Collins line.
The Baltic is of thirty-two hundred tuns’ burden, carpenter’s measure; in length, two hundred and eighty-seven feet; breadth of beam, forty-six feet; depth of hold, thirty-two feet; to the top of the gunwale, thirty-four feet and six inches. The diameter of her wheels is thirty-six feet; the number of floats, (corresponding to the buckets or paddles of a common water-wheel,) twenty-six in each wheel; their length, twelve feet and a half; their breadth, twenty-eight, and their thickness, three inches and a half; each float being armed with three hundred pounds of iron, so that it requires six men to lift it. The engine has two working cylinders, each ninety-six inches in diameter; the length of their stroke is ten feet; and the number of revolutions is from eleven to fourteen in a minute. The vacuum is equivalent to fourteen pounds upon the square inch; a near approximation to a perfect vacuum, which corresponds to fifteen pounds on the square inch. The pressure of steam is from twelve to twenty pounds upon the square inch; usually from twelve to fifteen pounds; this is all the amount of the power tending to produce explosion, while including what is gained by the vacuum, the effective motive power is equivalent to twenty-six, twenty-nine and thirty-four pounds on the square inch. The highest pressure used in an ordinary passage may be about eighteen pounds, equivalent to a working force of thirty-two pounds; and the lowest about seven or eight pounds, giving a moving force of twenty-one or twenty-two pounds. The ability of the boilers corresponds to fifty pounds, and with the addition of the vacuum, to sixty-four pounds; it follows, therefore, that they are generally worked with less than half their power. The entire weight of the steam machinery is one thousand tuns, and it occupies sixty feet in the length of the ship.
As to capacity for passengers, there are one hundred and sixty berths, aside from the accommodations for the people of the ship. As to strength of structure, the timbers are fitted side by side, and calked so tight that it was said the ship would float even before she was planked. Plates of iron six inches wide and an inch and a quarter thick, are let, obliquely, into the timbers at the distance of twenty-eight inches from the centers of each, and therefore they are twenty-two inches apart. These are crossed obliquely by other bars or plates of the same dimensions, which are let into the boards or planks that are nailed over them. Copper bolts, for twenty feet from the keel, pass through the plates of iron at their intersection, and in many other places, and copper sheathing covers eighteen feet of the lower part of the hull, the draught being nineteen feet, and twenty with the coal in. The ships of this line are as strong as wood, iron and copper can make them, and they hardly leak at all. They would bear long thumping upon the rocks before they would go to pieces. The movement of the machinery, and the stroke of the waves, produce scarcely a perceptible tremor, and not the slightest deviation in the deck from a right line can be seen, when viewed horizontally from stem to stern through its length of nearly three hundred feet. No opening of a joint is perceived even in the beams that form the capping of the gunwale; a knife-blade can not be passed between their contiguous ends.
The machinery rests on an iron bed-plate, on the keelson, or engine bed; and the bed-plate, which is cast in one piece, weighs forty tuns. The machinery is below, and is invisible from the deck, except through certain doors. A wave can hardly reach it at all, even should it break over the ship; and by closing the apertures above, the engine room is safe from flooding, while ventilation is secured by large tubes, having their orifices higher than the upper or promenade deck. The people below, on the level of the keelson, where there is little motion, hardly know when there is a storm above; they live in a comparatively quiet world of their own, and always in a tropical climate, even when among icebergs. The working of the machinery is admirable. It travels onward with the greatest ease and regularity; even with a heavy head-wind and opposing waves, it moves like clockwork, without apparent labor, throwing up its mighty arms and moving its ponderous levers as if there were no weight to be lifted, or vis inertiæ to be overcome. By observations made up to the tenth day of one of the passages, there had not been the slightest leak of steam, nor had it been necessary to turn a screw, although for several days together there was a heavy head-sea, impelled by adverse winds. Except the effect of hidden flaws in the immense masses of wrought iron that form some of the principal moving parts, there seems to be little cause for anxiety, as the machinery appears to be, in general, equal to every emergency.
Danger from fire, is always a subject of anxiety; but in ships protected as the Baltic is, the danger is believed to be less than in a sailing ship. The engine room is lined with iron; the boilers and their furnaces are everywhere surrounded by that metal and by water, and no wood is in a position to be unduly heated. All lights, except those necessary to the management of the ship, are extinguished at eleven o’clock; many people are up all night, and are about in every place; there are fire-engines always ready to flood the ship, and they are adapted so as to be wrought both by hand and by steam power. The behavior of the Baltic as a sea-boat, is admirable in every variety of weather. This immense vessel rides upon the waves like a duck, and has, in general, a dry and comfortable deck, rarely shipping a sea, although the spray dashes over the forecastle in showers. The ship is warmed by steam tubes, passing under the marble tables. More than fifty persons are employed about the machinery, of whom forty-eight attend to the coal and the fires, and there are six or eight engineers. There are between thirty and forty servants, twenty or twenty-five sailors, and three or four supernumerary officers; in all, about one hundred and forty, besides passengers. The style and furnishing of the Baltic are elegant, rich enough for a nobleman’s villa. Of mirrors, large and small, there are about fifty; indeed, they are in such excess that a passenger can not look in any direction without meeting his own image or the faces of his companions. The tables of these steamers are amply supplied, and have the best attendance; and of luxuries, there seems to be no end. The saloons of these steamers are fitted up in superb style. Some of the table-covers are of beautiful variegated marble, and the panels around are finely decorated with emblems of the various American states. The cabin-windows are of beautiful painted glass, embellished with the arms of various American cities. There are large circular glass ventilators reaching from the deck to the lower saloon. There is a rich and elegant ladies’ drawing-room near the chief saloon, and there are berths for about one hundred and fifty passengers. Each berth has a bell-rope communicating with one of Jackson’s patented American annunciators. Crossing the ocean in one of these steamers, some one has said, is no cross at all!
Such are the present ocean steamers; and yet even these immense structures will soon be thrown in the background by steamers of still vaster dimensions. For the Edinburgh Journal gives an account of an immense iron steamer, now (1855) being constructed for the Australian trade, which will far surpass them. The actual measurements of this leviathan vessel are, six hundred and seventy-five feet long, eighty-three feet wide at her greatest breadth of beam, and sixty feet deep in the hold, forming four decks. She will be furnished with paddle-wheels and a screw, the former of a nominal power of one thousand horses, the latter of sixteen hundred horses; but practically, the combined power may be estimated at three thousand horses. The four cylinders in which the pistons are to work, are the largest in the world; each of them weighs twenty-eight tuns. When they are lying on the ground, a man, with his hat on, may walk through them without touching the upper side. The engines, when erected and put together, will be upward of fifty feet in hight. The weight of the entire machinery will be about three thousand tuns, and of the hull, ten thousand tuns, making thirteen thousand tuns. She will carry several thousand tuns of coal and merchandise, sixteen hundred passengers, and her measurement capacity gives about twenty-five thousand tuns’ burden! Notwithstanding, her draught of water will be but small, not exceeding twenty feet when light, and thirty feet when fully loaded. She will carry five or six masts, and five funnels. Her cost will be about eighteen hundred thousand dollars. She will carry coal enough for a voyage round the world, and is built upon a model to insure great speed. Her ordinary speed is expected to be eighteen or twenty miles an hour. She is expected to make the voyage from England to Australia in thirty days, and return by Cape Horn in thirty days more; thus making the circuit of the globe in two months.
More wonderful still, it is said that Mr. Vanderbilt, of New York, is about building an immense steamer, which is to be eight hundred feet in length, and of corresponding proportions throughout, which of course will surpass even the huge steamship just described. Where the rivalry and enterprise in this matter are to end, who can tell?
CHINESE JUNKS.
As in perfect and wonderful contrast to the magnificent floating palaces just described, we close the subject of navigation by a view of the clumsy Chinese junk, which is represented in the cut below. The Chinese, though neither a savage, nor a barbarous people, are still, in most respects, very unlike other civilized nations. In houses, dress, furniture, equipage, worship, indeed, in most of the actions, feelings, and opinions of life, they are a peculiar people. They have, in fact, struck out a civilization of their own. Their religion, their literature, their arts, are all Chinese, and nothing but Chinese. It is curious to observe that although, for many centuries, they have been a cultivated people, and have even preceded the Europeans in many useful and ingenious discoveries, they seem to stand still at a certain point, beyond which they are not capable of improvement. There they remain, century after century; and, while other nations have surpassed them, they still conceive that they are the most learned, civilized and polished people in the world. All other nations they conceive to be barbarians, and hold them in supercilious contempt. And the Chinese vessels may serve as a sample of their national character. We give above a picture of one of their junks, which shows some ingenuity, and no little industry; yet how clumsy, how ineffective is it, in comparison with a Yankee steamboat! The Chinese can go, by dint of rowing, three miles an hour, while we go fifteen. This is about the difference between the energy of the Chinese and the civilized people of Europe and America.
THE ARTESIAN WELL OF GRENELLE.
Artesian wells, or fountains, are made by boring in the earth to a great depth, till at last water rises to the surface, and often with such force as to form abundant and elevated jets. The name artesian is derived from Artois, a province of France, where especial attention has been given to this means of obtaining water; though it appears from sufficient evidence, that wells of this kind were well known to the ancients. Olympiadorus, who flourished in the sixth century at Alexandria, states that where wells were dug in the oases of the desert to the depth of two, three or five hundred yards, rivers of water gushed out from their orifices, of which advantage was taken by agriculturists to water their fields. The oldest artesian well known in France, is at Lillers, in Artois, and is said to have been made in 1126. In the great desert of Sahara, water is said to have been obtained in this way; and the Chinese, we are told, have practiced it for thousands of years. Artesian wells are now common in Europe and in the United States. The artesian well of Grenelle, is a famous fountain of this kind, and as such is worthy of notice. It is not far from the Hotel des Invalides, and was undertaken chiefly with reference to the great slaughter-houses in its vicinity. It was begun January first, 1834, and the boring was prosecuted during seven years and two months. It opened with a diameter of twelve inches; at the depth of thirteen hundred feet it was contracted to six inches. Water was struck at the depth of eighteen hundred feet, and the entire depth is two thousand feet, or nearly two-fifths of a mile. The water rose at first in a fine thread, but soon after it came so rapidly as to injure the machinery. It rose to the hight of one hundred and twelve feet above the surface; high enough to flow into the attics of the most lofty houses in Paris, and into many of its towers. The entire depth of the boring is five and a half times the hight of the dome of the Hotel of the Invalids, and more than five times that of the cross on the summit of St. Paul’s, in London. In a diagram of the strata, seen in section, the cathedral of Strasburg, and the church of St. Peter, at Rome, are figured at the bottom on the level of the subterranean fountain, and they appear very humble, compared with the great distance to the surface of the ground.
The flow of the water was equivalent to six hundred gallons in a minute; five hundred thousand gallons in twenty-four hours; and the quantity thus far is not diminished. Some time after the opening of the well, it flowed bountifully over the top of the tube, and with a force that would doubtless have raised it to the full hight, although at that time the upper part of the tube had been removed for repairs. It had collapsed, and a new tube was about to be inserted; the old tube was twenty-one inches wide at the top and seven at the bottom; but the new tube was to be reduced to five inches. It is now, and was formerly, made of galvanized iron. The temperature of the water, at first, was eighty-three and three-fourths degrees of Fahrenheit, and it is now stated to be eighty-five degrees; a degree of permanent heat far exceeding that of midsummer in Paris. Indeed, it is so warm, that it does not answer for the use of the slaughter-houses, as was at first proposed, and they are compelled to resort to water from other sources. It was quite warm to the touch, when a hand was immersed in it. The labor attending this boring was immense; and great difficulties were encountered. The boring instrument broke several times, and fell in. This happened at the depth of thirteen hundred and thirty-five feet, and it required incessant labor during fourteen months to recover it. The government, at whose expense it was prosecuted, was, at times, nearly discouraged.
Quite recently, in boring an artesian well in Livingston, Alabama, an egg was brought up from the depth of three hundred and thirty-five feet below the surface, of which distance, three hundred feet were through the solid rock. The egg was completely petrified, and perfect in shape, except in one place where the auger had defaced it. How it came there, and in what remote age, it might puzzle the wisest geologist or philosopher to tell!
THE BANYAN-TREE.
The banyan, or burr tree, the ficus Indica of Linnæus, a picture of which is given in the cut beyond, claims our particular attention. It is considered as one of the most curious and beautiful of Nature’s productions in the genial climate of India, where she sports with the greatest profusion and variety. Each tree is in itself a grove, and some of them are of an amazing size, as they are continually increasing, and, contrary to most other animal and vegetable productions, seem to be exempted from decay: for every branch from the main body throws out its own roots, at first in small tender fibers, several yards from the ground, which continually grow thicker; until by a gradual descent, they reach its surface; where, striking in, they increase to a large trunk, and become a parent tree, throwing out new branches from the top. These, in time, suspend their roots, and, receiving nourishment from the earth, swell into trunks, and shoot forth other branches; thus continuing in a state of progression so long as the first parent of them all supplies her sustenance.
A banyan-tree with many trunks, forms the most beautiful walks, vistas and cool recesses, that can be imagined. The leaves are large, soft, and of a lively green; the fruit is a small fig, of a bright scarlet when ripe, affording sustenance to monkeys, squirrels, peacocks, and birds of various kinds, which dwell among the branches.
The Hindoos are peculiarly fond of this tree; they consider its long duration, its outstretching arms, and overshadowing beneficence, as emblems of the Deity, and almost pay it divine honors. The Brahmins, who thus “find a fane in every sacred grove,” spend much of their time in superstitious solitude under the shade of the banyan-tree; they plant it near the dewals, or Hindoo temples, improperly called pagodas; and in those villages where there is no structure for public worship, they place an image under one of these trees, and there perform their morning and evening sacrifice. These are the trees under which a sect of naked philosophers, called Gymnosophists, assembled in Arrian’s days; and this historian of ancient Greece, says Forbes, in his “Oriental Memoirs,” affords a true picture of the modern Hindoos. “In winter the Gymnosophists enjoy the benefit of the sun’s rays in the open air; and in summer, when the heat becomes excessive, they pass their time in cool and moist places, under large trees; which, according to the accounts of Nearchus, cover a circumference of five acres, and extend their branches so far, that ten thousand men may easily find shelter under them.”
On the banks of the Narbudda, in the province of Guzzerat, is a banyan-tree, supposed by some persons to be the one described by Nearchus, and certainly not inferior to it. It is distinguished by the name of the Cubbeer-Burr, which was given to it in honor of a famous saint. High floods have, at various times, swept away a considerable part of this extraordinary tree; but what still remains is nearly two thousand feet in circumference, measured round the principal stems; the overhanging branches, not yet struck down, cover a much larger space; and under it grow a number of custard-apple, and other fruit trees. The large trunks of this single tree amount to three hundred and fifty, and the smaller ones exceed three thousand. Each of these is constantly sending forth branches and hanging roots, to form other trunks, and become the parents of a future progeny. The Cubbeer-Burr is famed throughout Hindoostan, not only on account of its great extent, but also of its surpassing beauty. The Indian armies generally encamp around it; and, at stated seasons, solemn jatarras, or Hindoo festivals, to which thousands of votaries repair from every part of the Mogul empire, are there celebrated. It is said that seven thousand people find ample room to repose under its shade. It has long been the custom of the British residents in India, on their hunting and shooting parties, to form extensive encampments, and spend weeks together, under this magnificent pavilion, which affords a shelter to all travelers, particularly to the religious tribes of the Hindoos. It is generally filled with a variety of birds, snakes and monkeys, the latter of whom both divert the spectator by their antic tricks, and interest him by the parental affection they display to their young offspring, in teaching them to select their food, to exert themselves in jumping from bough to bough, and in taking, as they acquire strength, still more extensive leaps from tree to tree. In these efforts, they encourage them by caresses, when timorous, and menace, and even beat them, when refractory.
THE WEDDED BANYAN-TREE.
Among the varieties of the banyan, or burr tree, is the peipal, or ficus religiosa, which is not uncommon in Guzzerat, and causes a singular variety of vegetation. It may be considered as belonging to the order of creepers, and often springs round different trees, particularly the palmyra, or palm. The latter growing through the center of a banyan-tree, looks extremely grand. The peipal frequently shoots from old walls, and runs along them, so as to cause a singular phenomenon of vegetation. In the province of Bahar, one of these trees was seen by an English traveler, on the inside of a large brick well, the whole circumference of the internal space of which it lined, and thus actually became a tree turned inside out. A banyan-tree thus inverted is uncommon; but the general usefulness and beauty of this variety, especially in overshadowing the public wells and village markets, can only be known by those who live in a sultry climate.
THE COCOA-TREE.
Of all the gifts which Providence has bestowed on the oriental world, the cocoa-tree is the one most deserving of notice. The blessings which are conveyed to man, by this single production of nature, are incalculable. It grows in a stately column, from thirty to fifty feet in hight, crowned by a verdant capital of waving branches, covered with long spiral leaves: under this foliage, bunches of blossoms, clusters of green fruit, and others arrived at maturity, appear in mingled beauty. The trunk, though porous, furnishes beams and rafters for the habitations; and the leaves, when platted together, make an excellent thatch, as well as common umbrellas, coarse mats for the floor, and brooms; while their finest fibers are woven into very beautiful mats for the rich. The covering of the young fruit is extremely curious, resembling a piece of thick cloth, in a conical form, as close and firm as if it came from the loom; it expands after the fruit has burst through its inclosure, and then appears of a coarser texture. The nuts contain a delicious milk, and a kernel sweet as the almond: this, when dried, affords abundance of oil; and when that is expressed, the remainder answers to feed cattle and poultry, and make a good manure. The shell of the nut furnishes cups, ladles, and other domestic utensils; while the husk which incloses it is of the utmost importance: it is manufactured into ropes, and cordage of every kind, from the smallest twine to the largest cables, which are far more durable than those of hemp. In the Nicobar islands, the natives build their vessels, make the sails and cordage, supply them with provisions and necessaries, and provide a cargo of arrack, vinegar, oil, jaggree or coarse sugar, cocoa-nuts, coir, cordage, black paint, and several inferior articles, for foreign markets, entirely from this tree.
Many of the trees are not permitted to bear fruit; but the embryo bud, from which the blossoms and nuts would spring, is tied up to prevent its expansion; and a small incision being then made at the end, a cool pleasant liquor, called tarre, or toddy, the palm-wine of the poets, oozes out in gentle drops.
THE REINDEER SLEDGE.
The reindeer is a native of Greenland, and the cold climates of the extreme north. To the Greenlander he supplies the place of the horse, the locomotive, and the steamboat to us, as may be seen in the cut, which illustrates the mode of traveling in Greenland. The reindeer is swift of foot, sharp-sighted, and of acute smell and hearing. His flesh supplies the Greenlander with food; while his skin, with its thick, warm hair, affords material for his tent, his bedding and his clothing. The bones and antlers, or horns, are worked into implements for domestic use, for fishing and hunting, and the tendons are split into threads for various purposes. The speed of the Greenlander on his sledge, is said to rival that of the locomotive on the railroad.
THE UPAS, OR POISON-TREE.
Although a serious refutation of the gross imposition practiced on the people of Europe, by the romance of Foersch, on the subject of the upas, or celebrated poison-tree of Java, may at this time be in a great measure superfluous, as the world has long ceased to be the dupe of his story, and as regular series of experiments have been instituted both in England and in France, to ascertain the nature and potency of the poison; yet an authentic account of this poison, as drawn out by Doctor Horsfield, and given in the seventh volume of the Batavian transactions, can not fail to be interesting. Almost every one has heard of its fabulous history, which, from its extravagant nature, its susceptibility of poetical ornament, its alliance with the cruelties of a despotic government, and the sparkling genius of Darwin, whose purpose it answered to adopt and personify it as a malignant spirit, (in his “Loves of the Plants,”) has obtained almost equal currency with the wonders of the Lernian hydra, or any other of the classic fictions of antiquity.
Although, as Doctor Horsfield observes, the account published by Foersch, so far as relates to the situation of the poison-tree, to its effects on the surrounding country, and to the application said to have been made of the upas on criminals in different parts of the island, has, as well as the description of the poisonous substance itself, and its mode of collection, been demonstrated to be an extravagant forgery; yet the existence of a tree in Java, from the sap of which a poison is prepared, equal in fatality, when thrown into the circulation, to the strongest animal poisons hitherto known, is a fact which it is his object to establish and illustrate. The tree which produces this poison is the anchar, and grows in the eastern extremity of the island. The work of Rhumphius contains a long account of the upas, under the denomination of arbor toxicaria. The tree does not grow in Ambonia, and his description was made from the information he obtained from Macassar. His figure was drawn from a branch of what is called the male-tree, sent to him from the same place, and establishes the identity of the poison-tree of Macassar, and the other eastern islands, with the anchar of Java. The simple sap of the arbor toxicaria (according to Rhumphius) is harmless, and requires the addition of several substances of the affinity of ginger, to render it active and mortal. In so far it agrees with the anchar, which, in its simple state, is supposed to be inert, and, before being employed as a poison, is subjected to a particular preparation. Besides the true poison-tree, the upas of the eastern islands, and the anchar of the Javans, this island produces a shrub, which, as far as observations have hitherto been made, is peculiar to the same, and by a different mode of preparation, furnishes a poison far exceeding the upas in violence. Its name is chetik; but the genus to which it belongs has not yet been discovered or described.
The anchar is one of the largest trees in the forests of Java. The stem is cylindrical, perpendicular, and rises completely naked to the hight of sixty, seventy, or eighty feet. It is covered with a whitish bark, slightly bursting in longitudinal furrows. Near the ground this bark is, in old trees, more than half an inch thick, and, upon being wounded, yields plentifully the milky juice from which the celebrated poison is prepared. A puncture or incision being made into the tree, the juice or sap appears oozing out, of a yellowish color from old trees; but paler, or nearly white, from young ones; and when exposed to the air, its surface becomes brown. The consistence very much resembles milk; but it is more thick and viscid. This sap is contained in the true bark, (or cortex,) which, when punctured, yields a considerable quantity, so that in a short time a cupful may be collected from a large tree. The inner bark (or liber) is of a close fibrous texture, like that of the morus papyrifera, and, when separated from the other bark, and cleansed from the adhering particles, resembles a coarse piece of linen. It has been worked into ropes, which are very strong; and the poorer class of people employ the inner bark of the younger trees, which is more easily prepared, for the purpose of making a coarse stuff, which they wear in working in the fields. But it requires much bruising, washing, and a long immersion, before it can be used; and, when it appears completely purified, persons wearing this dress, being exposed to rain, are affected with an intolerable itching, which renders it insupportable. It appears from the account of the manner in which the poison is prepared, that the deleterious quality exists in the gum, a small portion of which still adhering, produces, when exposed to wet, this irritating effect; and it is singular that this property of the prepared bark is known to the Javans in all places where the tree grows, while the preparation of a poison from its juice, which produces a mortal effect when introduced into the body by pointed weapons, is an exclusive art of the inhabitants of the eastern extremity of the island.
THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.
One of the most striking features in the geography of the Western states, is the prairies, or natural meadows. These are immense plains, often stretching, in every direction, further than the eye can reach, entirely destitute of trees, and covered with grass and wild flowers. These prairies cover a vast extent of country north of the Ohio and west of the Mississippi, affording pasturage to countless herds of the buffalo, deer and other wild animals. When the grass has been dried and parched by the heat of summer, it sometimes takes fire, as represented in the cut above, and then a sea of flame is swept by the wind over these vast plains, spreading, it is said, more swiftly than the fleetest horse can run before it. In such cases, the only resort is, to pull up the grass around one, and kindle on every side a counter-flame, which burning outward, in every direction, leaves the hunter or traveler in a place of safety.
THE MAMMOTH TREE OF CALIFORNIA.
One of the vegetable wonders of the world, is the immense tree discovered, a year or two since, in California. The first reports concerning this huge giant of the forest seemed fabulous, so extraordinary were the particulars; but it is found that the largest statement did not exceed the truth. The tree is a cedar, of the species called arbor vitæ, and was first discovered by some miners in the mountains of Calaveras, California, in a forest called the Redwoods, on Trinidad bay, some twenty or thirty miles from the mouth of Klamath river, on the northern sea-coast of the state, a region that has been but very little explored. A correspondent of the Sonora Herald, who recently made an excursion to see it, thus describes it. “At the ground its circumference was ninety-two feet; four feet above that, it was eighty-eight; and ten feet above that, it was sixty-one feet in circumference; and the tapering of the shaft was very gradual. Its hight, to the end of the trunk, is two hundred and eighty-five feet; or, if we include the topmost branches, three hundred and twenty-five feet. This tree is by no means a deformity, as most trees with large trunks are. It is throughout one of perfect symmetry, while its enormous proportions are inseparable concomitants of its grandeur. I have said that this is the largest tree yet discovered in the world. It is so. The celebrated tree of Fremont would have to grow many centuries before it could pretend to be called anything but a younger brother. It is said that a tree was once found in Senegal, in Africa, whose trunk measured ninety feet in circumference. But nobody has been able to find it since its first discovery. There is a tree in Mexico called the taxodium, which is said to be one hundred and seventeen feet in circumference, but this is said to be formed by the union of several trees. The hight of all these foreign trees is not more, in any case, than seventy feet; and none of the trunks are more than ten feet. The age of this mammoth cedar of California, if each zone may be reckoned one year, is about twenty-five hundred and twenty years. A section of the wood which I brought home with me, exclusive of the sap, which is only about one inch thick, numbers about fourteen zones or grains to the inch. At that rate, if it were permitted to grow, it would increase its diameter one-seventh of an inch every year. In eighty-four years its diameter would be increased one foot; in eight hundred and forty years, ten feet; and in twenty-five hundred and twenty years, it would be forty feet in diameter, and one hundred and twenty in circumference.
“It seems like an act of desecration to cut down such a noble tree, such a magnificent specimen of the growth of the primeval forest. But it has been done, not, however, without a vast deal of labor. It was accomplished by first boring holes through the body with long augers, worked by machinery, and afterward sawing from one to the other. Of course, as the sawing drew to a close, the workmen were on the alert to notice the first sign of toppling, but none came; the tree was so straight and evenly balanced on all sides that it retained its upright position after it had been sawed through. Wedges were then forced in, and a breeze happening to spring up, over went the monster with a crash which was heard for miles around. The bark was stripped from it for the length of fifty feet from the base, and is from one to two feet in thickness. It was taken off in sections, so that it can be placed, relatively, in its original position, and thus give the beholder a just idea of the gigantic dimensions of the tree. So placed, it will occupy a space of about thirty feet in diameter, or ninety feet in circumference, and fifty feet in hight. A piece of the wood will be shown, which has been cut out from the tree across the whole diameter. We are told that this piece of wood shows a vestige of bark near the middle, and that this bark was evidently charred many centuries ago, when the tree was comparatively a sapling.”
Since the above was written, the section of this huge tree alluded to, has been exhibited in Stockton and San Francisco, and thence brought to the United States, so that some of our readers may be able to get a view of this monster of the California woods for a trifling admission fee. In its natural condition, rearing its majestic head toward heaven, and waving in all its native vigor, strength and verdure, it was a sight worth a pilgrimage to see; and it will still be a rich gratification to look upon the section of it, though that will give but a faint idea of what the whole was in its native forest.
Notwithstanding the calculation given above by the writer in the Sonora Herald, it is supposed that this tree can not be less than three thousand years old; for, for a large space on the outer surface next to the bark, the rings of growth are so thin as not to be distinguishable from each other. Add one-third to the hight of Bunker-hill monument, and the outward dimensions of the main trunk of this tree would be about the same. From actual measurement it contained more than three hundred cords of wood. One hundred men could easily stand within the hollow of it at the same time, and a six-foot man rode a full-sized horse through it without touching his hat to the upper surface.
OTHER MAMMOTH TREES.
A California paper says, that in the neighborhood of the mammoth tree just described, within a circumference of half a mile, there are twelve immense trees, which rival, or even surpass that huge giant of the forest. One of these is called the Father Pine. This is dead, and has fallen to the earth. Its dimensions are as follows: length, four hundred feet; circumference, one hundred and ten feet. The trunk of this tree is hollow, and it has been traced for a distance of two hundred and fifty feet. There is a little pond of water in the center of this cavity, four feet in depth. This tree, two hundred and fifty feet from the stump, is no less than twelve feet in diameter. The cluster called the Three Sisters, taken together, is ninety-two feet in circumference, and three hundred feet in hight. The center one is bare of branches for two hundred feet above the ground. The Mother Tree is ninety-one and a half feet in circumference, and three hundred and twenty-five feet high. The Mother and Son are ninety-two feet in circumference and three hundred feet in hight, united at the base. The Twin Sisters, one hundred feet in circumference and three hundred feet in hight. The Pioneer’s Cabin is a remarkable curiosity. This tree has been partially burned; the result of the scorching is the dividing of the trunk into several compartments, which are known as the parlor, bedroom and kitchen. The hollow, which is two hundred feet in hight, is called the chimney. This tree is eighty-five feet in circumference. The Siamese Twins is ninety feet in circumference, three hundred and twenty-five feet in hight. Guardian of the Times, eighty-five feet in circumference, three hundred and twenty-five feet in hight. Uncle Tom’s Cabin, ninety-four feet in circumference, three hundred feet in hight. Pride of the Forest, eighty-seven feet in circumference, three hundred feet in hight. Beauty of the Forest, seventy-two feet in circumference, three hundred feet in hight. Two Friends, eighty-five feet in circumference, three hundred feet in hight. The above trees are all embraced in an area not exceeding half a mile in extent. The surrounding country is exceedingly picturesque and beautiful, and the scenery, at many points along the road, is said to be unsurpassed for sublimity and grandeur.
THE PALM-TREE.
Passing from California to the countries of the east, let us next glance at the palm-tree. This tree, which is called by Linnæus, from its noble and stately appearance, “the prince of the vegetable kingdom,” is of several kinds, the chief of which are the doum-palm, and the date-palm. They are chiefly found in the tropics. The doum or Theban palm, the same that is found in Florida, differs from the columnar date-palm in the form of its leaves, which are fan-like, and so thickly set as to resemble a huge bushy mop, though they are always gracefully disposed, and also in having a branching trunk. The main stem divides a few feet from the root, each of the branches again forming two, and each of these two more, till the tree receives a broad, rounded top. The fruit hangs below in clusters, resembling small cocoa-nuts, (or, says a late traveler, still more of the size, shape, and appearance of a yellowish-white potato, of full growth,) and has a sort of gingerbread flavor, which is not disagreeable. When fully dry and hard, it takes a polish like ivory, and is manufactured by the Arabs into beads, pipe-bowls and other small articles.
The more common, or date-palm, a view of which is given in the cut, produces the sweet fruit which is brought to us from Smyrna, and other ports of the Mediterranean, with which all are familiar, under the name of the date. In the regions between Barbary and the great desert, the soil, which is of a sandy nature, is so much parched by the intense heat of the sun’s rays, that none of the corn-plants will grow; and in the arid district, called the land of dates, the few vegetables that can be found are of the most dwarfish description. No plants arise to form the variety of food to which we are accustomed; and the natives of these districts live almost exclusively upon the fruit of the date-tree. A paste is made of this fruit by pressing it in large baskets. This paste is not used for present supply, but is intended for a provision in case of a failure in the crops of dates, which sometimes occurs, owing to the ravages committed by locusts. The date, in its natural state, forms the usual food; and the juice yielded by it when fresh, contains so much nutriment as to render those who live upon it extremely fat. As, by the Moors, corpulence is esteemed an indispensable requisite of beauty, the ladies belonging to the families of distinction among them, nourish themselves, during the season, solely with the fresh fruit, and by continuing this regimen during two or three months, they become of an enormous size! The date-palm flourishes very generally on sandy soils in the hot countries of Asia and Africa. Not always, however, is the soil that supports it so barren as the one we have described. It is frequently found by streams, and as the tired traveler sees its foliage waving afar, he hastens toward it, hoping to find a stream of water. Sometimes its tall stem is surrounded by beautiful climbing plants, and the most brilliant flowers flourish beneath. This kind of palm not only rises to a great hight, often sixty or eighty feet, but is also frequently of great diameter and strength; being unlike in this respect, some other species of palm, whose slight forms yield to the winds. It was to this tree that the psalmist alluded when he said, “The righteous shall grow as the palm-tree;” firm and unmoved by the shocks of temptation and the storms of adversity.
The clusters of dates are sometimes five feet in length, and when ripe are of a bright gold color, surrounded from above with the deep, rich leaves, as with a crown. This kind of the palm is trained to its high growth, without a single branch on its solitary, upright trunk, by trimming off the leaves every year from the young stalk; so that its strength shoots upward; and by this process, also, the bark is formed into a succession of steps or notches, by which the barefooted Arab easily mounts to the top. From the very top of the tree, the long, pointed leaves curl gracefully on every side, like the close-set frame of a parachute; and just where the broad, ridge-shaped base of the leaf adheres to the tree, the fruit hangs in clusters, all around the trunk. When its early training is neglected, the palm-tree grows less gracefully; sometimes dividing at the root into several trunks, which grow without branches to various hights, and then spread out their leafy crests. The palm-tree looks most majestic and picturesque, when it stands alone upon some broad plain or gentle bluff, and when its leaves are gently stirred by the wind. The eye then takes it in at one view, measures it by some mental standard, or disdaining all mathematical proportions, dreamily contemplates the waving lines of beauty, and the straight, slender, yet stately stalk that stands in bold relief against the stainless sky. The date-palm is unknown in the United States, except in rare garden culture; but in Egypt it grows everywhere, and is to the people food, shelter, shade, fuel, raiment, timber, divan, cordage, basket, roof, screen. Its fruit is found in perfection on the confines of Nubia.
THE BAMBOO-TREE.
Nature, or rather the great Author of nature, has conferred on the inhabitants of hot countries few gifts more valuable than the bamboo-tree, a view of which is given over the leaf. To such a multitude of useful purposes are its light, strong and graceful stems applied, that almost any other production of the vegetable world might more easily be spared than this. These stems spring from a strong-jointed, subterraneous root-stalk, which is the trunk of the tree, the shoots being the branches. They are hollow, and jointed, and of a hard, woody texture, the outside being coated with silex, and the inside consisting of a close, fibrous and very hard wood. The bamboo grows with great rapidity; and the shoots, when quite young, are sometimes cut and boiled like asparagus: but when full grown and vigorous, it becomes a large and strong tree. Its shoots vary in size, from six to one hundred and fifty feet in length. When fully grown, the bamboo is a straight rod, bearing a number of stiff branches, which shoot at nearly right angles from the main stem. It seems, at first, difficult to imagine how such a stem elevates itself through the dense mass of rigid branches, which cross each other in every direction. This is, however, arranged in a very simple manner. The young shoot, when it is first produced, is nothing but a sucker, as already said, like a shoot of asparagus; but, having a sharp point, it easily pierces the dense and overhanging branches. It is only when it has arrived at its full length, and has penetrated through all obstacles, that it forms its lateral shoots, which readily interpose themselves amid the stems. There are many species of the bamboo, all of which are useful. The young shoots, as mentioned above, are sometimes eaten as food; the full-grown stems, when ripe and hard, are converted into bows, arrows, quivers, fishing-rods, masts of vessels, bed-posts, walking-sticks, floors, supporters of rustic bridges, chairs, and a variety of other purposes. By notching their sides, the Malays form wonderfully light ladders. Bruised and crushed in water, the leaves and stems form Chinese paper; some species are used for lining tea-chests; cut into lengths, and the partitions knocked out, they form durable water-pipes. Slit into strips, they form excellent materials for weaving mats, baskets, window-blinds, and even the sails of boats. It is, however, for the purposes of building, that the bamboo is most important. The frame-work of the houses in Sumatra is chiefly composed of this material. The floors are made of the whole canes, laid close to each other. The sides are made of the stems, split and flattened, and the roof is formed of a thatch split into various strips. Great hopes are entertained of introducing this most useful tree into other countries; and, as it grows in dry and stony places, where nothing else flourishes, its introduction would be of great importance. A few species of the bamboo are found in the tropical parts of America.
THE MANNA-TREE.
Manna, in our version of the Bible, is a term applied to the food that God gave the Israelites in the wilderness. But what we now call manna, is a saccharine substance that exudes from the bark of a species of ash-tree found in the southern parts of Europe, and especially in Sicily and Calabria. At the warmest season, the tree most abounds in sap, and, accordingly, in August, the people make incisions into the bark. These are two inches long horizontally, and half an inch in depth. On incision, the manna immediately begins to flow, at first in the form of water, but it gradually becomes thicker. A leaf is inserted into the incision, which conducts the juice into a vessel placed at the foot of the tree. The liquor does not harden till it has remained some time. It has an unpleasant taste, but after the watery parts have evaporated, it is sweeter, but slightly nauseous. Manna is used in medicine as a mild aperient. It differs remarkably from common sugar, in not being susceptible of what is called vinous fermentation; so that if mixed with common sugar and yeast, and subjected to the process of fermentation, while the sugar is converted into alcohol, the manna remains unaltered in the liquor.
CONTINENTAL MONEY.
One of the curiosities, if not wonders of the world, is afforded in the Continental money, or Continental bills, issued by congress in the early stages of the Revolutionary struggle, a specimen of which may be seen in the cut. These bills were of various denominations, and were issued by thousands on thousands. But from the very great extent of their issue, and the fact that the government could not redeem them in silver and gold, they rapidly depreciated in value, till at last they became almost worthless. As they are now almost never seen, except it be in some museum, or collection of old curiosities, the fac-simile given above can not fail to be of interest.
THE MILK-TREE.
That singular production of nature called the masseranduba, or milk-tree, is found in the tropical regions of South America, and is thus described by Wallace, in his “Travels on the Amazon.” Speaking of the various interesting objects of the journey he was making, he says: “What most interested us, however, were several large logs of the masseranduba, or milk-tree. On our way through the forest, we had seen some trunks much notched by persons who had been extracting the milk. It is one of the noblest trees of the forest, rising with a straight stem to an enormous hight. The timber is very hard, fine-grained, and durable, and is valuable for works which are much exposed to the weather. The fruit is eatable and very good, the size of a small apple, and full of a rich and very juicy pulp. But strangest of all is the vegetable milk, which exudes in abundance when the bark is cut. It has about the consistence of thick cream, and, but for a very slight peculiar taste, could scarcely be distinguished from the genuine product of the cow. Mr. Leavens ordered a man to tap some logs that had lain nearly a month in the yard. He cut several notches in the bark with an ax, and in a minute the rich sap was running out in great quantities. It was collected in a basin, diluted with water, strained, and brought up at tea-time, and at breakfast next morning. The peculiar flavor of the milk seemed rather to improve the quality of the tea, and gave it as good a color as rich cream. In coffee it is equally good. Mr. Leavens informed us that he had made a custard of it, and that, though it had a curious dark color, it was very well tasted. The milk is used for glue, and is said to be as durable as that made use of by carpenters. As a specimen of its capabilities in this line, Mr. Leavens showed us a violin he had made, the belly-board of which, formed of two pieces, he had glued together with it applied fresh from the tree, without any preparation. It had been done two years. The instrument had been in constant use; and the joint was now perfectly good and sound throughout its whole length. As the milk hardens by exposure to air, it becomes a very tough, slightly elastic substance, much resembling gutta percha; but not having the property of being softened by hot water, it is not likely to become so extensively useful as that article.”
THE TELEGRAPH.
Tho old-fashioned telegraph, which was in common use before the wonderful invention of the electro-magnetic telegraph by Morse, was an arrangement for the communication of intelligence by signals, or movements, previously agreed upon; which signals represented letters, words, or ideas, which could thus be transmitted from one station to another, as far as the signals could be seen. It was first devised in France, about 1793 or 1794, and soon became extensively adopted and used in other nations. A good idea of its appearance may be formed from the cut below. It consisted of a mast, or frame, in connection with shutters, or sliding-boards, worked by ropes pulled like bell-ropes, and exhibiting, in all, sixty-three signals; by which were represented the nine digits, the letters of the alphabet, and several generic words: and, sometimes, to these were added other signals, expressive of entire phrases. The observers at these telegraphs were not expected to keep their eye constantly at the glass, but to look only every five minutes for the signal to make ready. The telescopes used for observation, were commonly what are called Dolland’s achromatics, which possess no recommendation but their enlarged field, and their freedom from prismatic colors in that field; points of no consequence in looking through a fixed glass at a fixed and circumscribed object. Sometimes a common and powerful spy-glass was found sufficient. In the use of this kind of telegraph, dead flats or levels were found to be universally unfavorable; and generally stations were found to be useless nearly in the proportion of the miles of dead flat looked over. On the contrary, stations between hill and hill, looking across a valley, or a series of valleys, were found to be mostly clear; and water surfaces were found to produce fewer obscure days than land in any situation. The period least favorable of the same day was an hour or two before and after the sun’s passage of the meridian, particularly on dead levels, where the play of the sun’s rays on the rising exhalations, renders distant vision exceedingly obscure. The tranquillity of the morning and evening were ascertained to be the most favorable hours for observation.
The old line of this kind of telegraph between London and Portsmouth, had twelve stations; and another chain from London to Yarmouth, had nineteen stations. The distances of the stations averaged about eight miles, yet some of them extended to twelve or fourteen; and the lines were often increased by circuits, for want of commanding hights. After about twenty years’ experience, they found they could calculate on about two hundred days on which signals could be transmitted throughout the day; about sixty others on which they could pass only part of the day, or at particular stations; and about one hundred days in which few of the stations were visible to each other. A message from London to Portsmouth, was usually transmitted in about fifteen minutes; but, by an experiment tried for the purpose, a single signal has been transmitted to Plymouth and back again in three minutes, which, by the telegraph route, is at least five hundred miles. In this instance, however, notice had been given to make ready, and every captain was at his post to receive and return the signals. The progress was at the rate of one hundred and seventy miles in a minute, or three miles a second, or three seconds at each station; a rapidity truly wonderful for so imperfect an apparatus! And yet, clumsy and slow-moving as all this now seems to us, it was the best telegraph known before the invention of Morse. In contrast to it, let us turn to the latter.
THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH.
The invention of this wonderful instrument, it is now universally admitted, is due to Professor S. F. B. Morse, of whom some one has well said, that “if Franklin brought the lightning from heaven, Morse both tamed it, and taught it the English language.” So early as 1822, Mr. Morse described his invention to reliable witnesses; and having obtained an appropriation from Congress, for the purpose of testing it on an extended scale, he set up the wires from Washington to Baltimore, a distance of about forty miles, and thus established the first electro-magnetic telegraph ever known, and the parent of that wonderful system that now threads every continent, conveying messages literally on the lightning’s wing. A view of the instrument used for transmitting messages, is given in the cut below. By this instrument connecting with the wires, messages are either written or printed; by the system of House, in actual letters, and by the systems of Morse and Bain, in a cipher.
The telegraphic wires having been extended throughout the United States and the continent of Europe, it is now proposed to carry them under the Atlantic, and so connect America and Europe. The plan now is, to carry the cable from the northernmost point of the Highlands of Scotland to Iceland, by way of the Orkney, Shetland and Ferroe islands; to lay it from Iceland across to the nearest point in Greenland, thence down the coast to Cape Farewell, where the cable would again take to the water, span Davis’s straits, and then go across Labrador and Upper Canada to Quebec. Here it would lock in with the North American meshwork of wires, which hold themselves out like an open hand for the European grasp. This plan seems quite feasible, for in no part of the journey would the cable require to be more than nine hundred miles long; and as it seems pretty certain that a sand-bank extends, with good soundings, all the way to Cape Farewell, there would be little difficulty in mooring the cable to a level and soft bottom.
Among the most startling wonders in connection with electricity and the telegraph, is the announcement that M. Bonelli, of Turin, has invented a new electric telegraph, by which trains in motion on a railway are enabled to communicate with each other at all rates of velocity, and, at the same time, with the telegraphic stations on the line; while the latter are, at the same time, able to communicate with the trains. It is added, that M. Bonelli is in possession of a system of telegraphic communication by which wires are entirely dispensed with.
THE ART OF PRINTING.
From the telegraph, to printing, and the printing-press, is but a step; and one that is naturally suggested. The origin of printing is involved in mystery. Some think it was practiced as far back as the building of Babylon. The Romans, we know, had metal stamps with which they marked words and names on their various articles; but having no paper, they could hardly be said to print. Printing from engraved blocks of wood, was practiced by the Chinese nearly fifty years before the Christian era. But the credit of first introducing movable types, is commonly attributed to John Fust, or Faust, of Mentz, who is represented, in the cut on the next page, as looking, with his associates, at the first proof taken from movable types. This was supposed to be not far from the year 1450. Between 1450 and 1455, the celebrated “Mentz Bible” appeared, without date; and this was the occasion of the art being discovered by the public. Next followed the “Psalter,” in 1457; and from this time, printing rapidly spread throughout Europe. William Caxton was the first to introduce printing into England, about 1474. The first book in which Greek types appear, was printed in 1465; and the first using the Roman character, in 1467.
Printing-presses were gradually improved. The old-fashioned press was made of wood, with an iron screw that had a bar fitted in it; and to the lower end of this screw was attached, horizontally, a flat piece of wood, called the platen, which was brought down by means of the screw, and pressed the paper on the face of the types, and thus the impression was given. This kind of presses, however, soon gave place to those made of iron. The Stanhope press was a great improvement on anything that had gone before it; and the Caledonian press, invented by George Clymer, an American, was a great improvement, in many respects, on the latter. The press represented in the cut on the following page, on which Franklin printed, was one of these old-fashioned hand-presses, on which it would have been a hard day’s work to print twenty-five hundred impressions, or twelve hundred and fifty sheets on both sides, in a day. After a time, a plan was devised of obtaining impressions from types by means of cylinders; and in 1804, the idea was started, of applying steam-power to printing-presses. It was not, however, till after years of experiments, and an immense outlay of capital, that the invention was brought to a successful issue, so as to be advantageously applied in practice. When, however, in 1814, the machine was completed, it was adopted in the office of the London Times newspaper, and was thus spoken of in the papers of the day.
“A new printing-press, or printing-engine, has recently excited the attention of the typographical world. It is wrought by the power of steam, and, with the aid of three boys, perfects nearly a thousand sheets per hour. A common press, worked by two men, takes off but two hundred and fifty impressions on one side, and requires eight hours to perfect a thousand sheets. Hence, three boys in one hour are enabled, by this new application of the power of steam, to perform the labor of two men for eight hours. Such are the present capabilities of this engine: but as there is no limit to its required powers, and the size of the form is no obstacle to its perfect performance, it is proposed to take impressions on double-demy, in which case three boys will, in one hour, perform the labor of thirty-two men. This engine is now at work at the printing-office of Bensley & Sons, near Fleet street, and another on a similar (but less perfect) construction, has for some time past been employed on a morning newspaper. In its general analogy, this press is not unlike the rolling-press of copper-plate printers. The forms being fixed on the carriage, are drawn under a cylinder, on which the sheet being laid, and the ink distributed by an arrangement of rollers, the impression is taken on one side. The sheet is then conveyed off by bands to a second cylinder, around which it is conveyed on the second form, and the reiteration is produced in perfect register, without the aid of points. All the manual labor is performed by a boy, who lays the sheet of paper on the first cylinder, by one who takes it off from the second cylinder, and by a third, who lays the sheets even on the bank. As a further instance of economy in the materials, we may mention, that the waste steam from the copper is carried in tubes round the entire suit of offices, with a view to warm them.”
Passing on, over various improvements, we come, last of all, to what thus far is the perfection of all printing-machines, viz., Hoe’s eight-cylinder power-press, a view of which is given in the cut on the following page. This immense printing-machine is thirty-three feet long, fourteen feet and eight inches high, and six feet wide. It has one large central cylinder on which the type is secured, and eight smaller cylinders arranged around it, at convenient distances. Eight persons supply the eight small cylinders with the sheets, and at each revolution of the large cylinder, eight impressions are given off, the sheets being delivered in neat order by the machine itself. The limit to the speed is in the ability of the eight persons to supply the sheets. At the rate of twenty-five hundred sheets to each, the press would give off the unparalleled number of twenty thousand printed impressions per hour. The press is thus far used exclusively for newspaper and similar printing. What it may next be applied to, or what will be the next stride in the rapidity and perfection of printing, only the future can reveal.
Before leaving the subject of printing, it may not be uninteresting to mention, that a composing, or type-setting machine, is said to have been recently invented, in Denmark. One who has seen it in operation, says: “It is now in actual operation in the office of the Fædrelandet. Instead of the usual cases and composing-sticks, and the compositor standing at his work, we see a person sitting before a machine with keys like a piano, which he plays on incessantly, and every touch on the tangent is followed by a click; the letter already in its place in the long mahogany channel prepared for it. The whole is excessively ingenious. In fact it is fairy work. The most wonderful part is that it distributes the already used types at the same time that it sets the new page, and with an exactness perfectly sure. No mistake can ever occur. The compositor, by this machine, does four times as much work as another workman; but as he requires an assistant to line and page the set type, this brings it to twice the amount of type set. The whole is so clean and pleasant, that it will probably soon be a favorite employment for women. The machine occupies a very small space, not more than a large chair, and is beautifully made of hard woods, brass and steel. Its success is now beyond all doubt. The proprietors of the Fædrelandet are so gratified by the one they now have, that they have ordered another. The price is twenty-four hundred Danish dollars. It will last, apparently, for a century or two without repair. Mr. Sorenson, the inventor, himself a compositor all his life, kindly shows the machine to any visitor. Of course, a compositor can not set with this machine at once; it will take a short time, a few days, for him to become familiar with the details, but he is then a gentleman compared to his old comrades.”
THE INDIA-RUBBER TREE.
India-rubber, called, also, caoutchouc, is produced from several different trees, all of them of the ficus, or fig species. The ficus elasticus is the tree from which it is chiefly obtained. This is a native both of India and of South America; and its general appearance may be seen in the cut below. When the bark is cut or broken, it gives forth a milky liquid, which, being exposed to the air, produces the gum elastic which is so much in use among us. It is now about a hundred years since it was first introduced into Europe. For a long time it was only used to erase the marks of lead-pencils. The natives of South America had, however, long employed it, as we do now, for boots and shoes. They also smear the inside of baskets with it, thus providing a tough and tight lining. In the vicinity of Quito, they make it into a kind of cloth. Its multiplied uses in the United States and Europe, are familiar to every reader. In a volume lately published in New York, entitled “Scenes and Adventures on the Banks of the Amazon,” is found the following account of this singular and most useful tree.
“A number of blacks, bearing long poles on their shoulders, thickly strung with India-rubber shoes, also attracted our attention. These are for the most part manufactured in the interior, and are brought down the river for sale by the natives. It has been estimated that at least two hundred and fifty thousand pairs of shoes are annually exported from the province, and the number is constantly increasing. A few words here respecting the tree itself, and the manufacture of the shoes, may not be out of place. The tree is quite peculiar in its appearance, and sometimes reaches the hight of eighty and even a hundred feet. The trunk is perfectly round, rather smooth, and protected by a bark of a light color. The leaves grow in clusters of three together, are thin, and of an ovate form, and are from ten to fifteen inches in length. The center leaf of the cluster is always the longest. This remarkable tree bears a curious fruit of the size of a peach, which, although not very palatable, is eagerly sought after by different animals. It is separated into three lobes, which contain each a small black nut. The trees are tapped in the same manner that the New Englanders tap maple-trees; the trunk having been perforated, a yellowish liquid, resembling cream, flows out, which is caught in small clay cups fastened to the tree. When these become full, their contents are emptied into large earthen jars, in which the liquid is kept until desired for use. The operation of making the shoes is as simple as it is interesting. Imagine yourself in one of the seringa groves of Brazil. Around you are a number of good-looking natives of low stature and olive complexions. One is stirring, with a long wooden stick, the contents of a caldron, placed over a pile of blazing embers. This is the liquid as it was taken from the rubber tree. Into this a wooden ‘last,’ covered with clay, and having a handle, is plunged. A coating of the liquid remains. Another native then takes the ‘last,’ and holds it in the smoke arising from the ignition of a species of palm fruit, for the purpose of causing the glutinous substance to assume a dark color. The ‘last’ is then plunged again into the caldron, and this process is repeated as in dipping candles, until the coating is of the required thickness. You will moreover notice a number of Indian girls engaged in making various impressions, such as flowers, &c., upon the soft surface of the rubber, by means of their thumb-nails, which are especially pared and cultivated for that purpose. After this final operation, the shoes are placed in the sun to harden, and large numbers of them may be seen laid out on mats in exposed situations. The aboriginal name of the rubber is cahchu, from which the formidable word of caoutchouc is derived.”
THE ROUND TOWER AT NEWPORT.
“The tower”—“the old round tower”—“the old stone tower,” at Newport, Rhode Island, if not one of the wonders of the world, has at least excited wonder enough in some of its inhabitants, and been a monument of deep interest to the traveler, the antiquarian, the controversialist, and the poet. Its appearance may be seen in the cut below, which is taken from a drawing made on the spot. For a long time it was the prevailing belief, that it was built by the Northmen, who, it was supposed, coasted along the New England shores as early as the twelfth century. Even the society of Danish antiquaries, gravely came to this conclusion, from some drawings and accounts that were sent them; and the discovery of a “skeleton in armor,” on the main land, near Newport, gave currency to this impression. Later investigations, however, have settled the point that it was originally built for a windmill, about 1676. It is about seventy-five feet above high-water level in the harbor, and about one hundred and twenty rods from the shore. Thus has been dissipated the foundation of many a wild theory, and many a joyous hoax of other days.
DIVING ARMOR.
The mention of the India-rubber tree, on a previous page, suggests the application of the valuable substance derived from it, to one of its many important uses, viz., to the submarine or diving armor. This is represented in the cut below, where the diver, or person about to descend into the sea, is seen encased with a water-proof dress, made chiefly of India rubber. His feet are heavily loaded with boots which have soles made of thick plates of lead. On his head is a helmet-shaped covering, made of iron, from which rises a hose, through which fresh air is forced to him, by powerful air-pumps, when he is under the water. This helmet, which is well padded, is furnished with two glass eyes, which are protected by wire gratings. Around the waist is a strong girdle provided with iron rings, one on each side, from which ascend cords to the persons in the boat from which the diver descends, for the purpose not only of aiding to guide him over the rocks, and helping him to an upright position, but to serve for signalizing in case of sudden danger or accident, and as a means of hauling him up when required. Thus although the diver is at perfect liberty to direct his own movements, he is still held in leading-strings from the boat, and all his motions are vigilantly watched and cared for by his companions above. To aid him in keeping under water, the diver also wears two heavy plates of lead, one in front and the other behind, which are so adjusted as to leave his arms at liberty, and at the same time give equilibrium to his submerged body. In this case, he also has a bag in front, into which he may put valuables of small size picked up in the deep, such, for example, as pearls, or amber, both of which have been sought for by persons thus equipped.
The method of exploring with this armor, is seen in the second cut, where the diver is represented as below the water, while his companions are in the boat above, some of them holding the ropes, some pumping down air, and others holding the ladder, while the diver himself is picking up some object of value from the bottom of the sea. This armor has been used in searching for amber, pearls, lost treasure, &c., &c. And when, some years since, the United States steam-frigate Missouri was sunk in Gibraltar harbor, so as to obstruct navigation, and all attempts by distinguished English engineers to raise her had proved in vain, an American, going down in the above-described armor, explored her position, and then contracted to blow her to pieces, which he successfully accomplished, though she was in twenty-six feet water, and covered by fifteen feet of sand. In doing this, he consumed forty-three thousand pounds of powder, raised sixteen hundred tuns of iron, and some eight hundred tuns of oysters that had grown to the iron. All his men were clothed in the submarine armor, and so perfect was the management, that not a life was lost, and not an accident happened during the whole of the operation.
In this connection, the recently invented “Nautilus diving-bell” is worthy of notice. This bell is provided with air-tight compartments, which hold either air or water, as ascent or descent is required: and is so ballasted that, when filled with water, buoyancy is destroyed, and the machine gradually sinks. Expel the water from the tanks, and the machine comes of course at once to the surface. By opening a valve near the bottom of the bell, the water enters through a pipe into the tanks; the air at the same time escaping through a valve at the top, opened or closed by the operator at will. Descent is thus effected. On the contrary, let air be turned into the tanks, escape at top be closed, and valves at bottom opened, water is expelled and ascent secured. To raise heavy weights, a greater or less amount of water is expelled. Suspension-chains attached to weight, immediately tighten; machine and weight become buoyant, and then by cables attached to anchors working through stuffing-boxes, windlasses may be transported to any desired spot, and there deposited. Free communication may be held with the bottom through an opening of between twelve and fifty square feet, according to size of bell, closed by an iron door, and secured by bolts. By throwing the door back, an equilibrium between air and water may be attained at any depth, by greater or less amounts of air, as determined by suitable gauges permanently fastened in the bell. Such is the ingenious mechanism of this wonderful contrivance.
TREE-HOUSE IN CAFFRARIA.
In Caffraria, in Africa, there is an “inhabited tree,” which travelers thus describe: “It stands at the base of a range of mountains, due east from Kurrichaine, in a place called ‘Ongorutcie Fountain.’ Its gigantic limbs contain seventeen conical huts. These are used as dwellings, being beyond the reach of the lions, which, since the incursion of the Mantates from the adjoining country, when so many thousands of persons were massacred, have become very numerous in the neighborhood, and destructive to human life. The branches of the tree are supported by forked sticks, or poles, and there are three tiers, or platforms, on which the huts are constructed. The lowest is nine feet from the ground, and holds ten huts; the second, about eight feet high, has three huts; and the upper story, if it may be so called, contains four. The ascent to these is made by notches cut in the supporting poles; and the huts are built with twigs, thatched with straw, and will contain ten persons, conveniently.”
A view of one of these trees is given in the cut on the previous page. Other villages have been seen by travelers, built somewhat similarly to the above; but these were erected on stakes, instead of trees, about eight feet above the ground, about forty feet square, larger in some places, and containing about seventy or eighty huts. The inhabitants sit under the shade of these platforms during the day, and retire at night to the huts above.
THE RAINING-TREE.
The island of Fierro is one of the most considerable of the Canaries, and some suppose its name to have been given upon this account: that its soil, not affording so much as a drop of fresh water, seems to be of iron; and, indeed, there is in this island neither rivulet, nor well, nor spring, save that only toward the seaside there are some wells; but they lie at such a distance from the city, that the inhabitants can make no use thereof. But the great Preserver and Sustainer of all, remedies this inconvenience by a way so extraordinary, that we can but sit down and acknowledge that he gives in this, undeniable demonstration of his goodness and infinite providence. For in the midst of the island, says a late traveler, there is a tree, which is the only one of the kind, insomuch that it hath no resemblance to those mentioned by us in this relation, nor to any other known to us in Europe. The leaves of it are long and narrow, and continue in constant verdure, winter and summer; and its branches are covered with a cloud, which is never dispelled, but resolved into a moisture, causing to fall from its leaves a very clear water, and that in such abundance, that the cisterns, which are placed at the foot of the tree to receive it, are never empty, but contain enough to supply both man and beast.
THE TRAVELER’S FRIEND.
Somewhat like the tree last mentioned, is one which is found in Madagascar, and which, from its property of yielding water, is called “the traveler’s friend.” It differs from most other trees in having all its branches in one plane, like the sticks of a fan or the feathers of a peacock’s tail. At the extremity of each branch grows a broad double leaf, several feet in length, which spreads itself out very gracefully. These leaves radiate heat so rapidly after sunset, that a copious deposition of dew takes place upon them, which, soon collecting into drops, forms little streams, which run down the branches to the trunk. Here it is received into hollow spaces of considerable magnitude, one of which is found at the root of every branch. These branches lie one over the other alternately, and when a knife, or, which is better, a flat piece of stick (for it is not necessary to cut the tree) is inserted between the parts which overlap, and slightly drawn to one side, so as to cause an opening, a stream of water gushes out as if from a fountain. Hence the appropriate name of “the traveler’s friend.”
THE CAMPHOR-TREE.
The camphor-tree, a view of which is given in the cut below, grows naturally in the woods of Japan, and in many of the islands of the far distant Pacific ocean. The part which smells stronger of camphor than any other, is the root, which yields it in great quantities. The bark of the stalk has outwardly rather a rough appearance; the inner surface is smooth and mucous, and is very easily separated from the wood, which is dry in its nature, and white in its color. The leaves stand upon slender, delicate foot-stalks, having an entire undulating margin running out into a point; the upper surface of the leaf is of a lively, shining green, and the lower, herbaceous and silky. The flowers are produced on the tops of footstalks, which proceed from the arm-pits of the leaves, but not till the tree has attained considerable age and size. The flower-stalks are slender, branched at the top, and divided into very short pedicles, each supporting a single flower; these flowers are white, and consist of six petals, which are succeeded by a shining purple berry, of the size of a pea. This is composed of a soft, pulpy substance, of a purple color, having the taste of cloves and camphor, and of a kernel of the size of a pepper, which is covered with a black, shining skin, of an insipid taste.
The camphor is a solid concrete juice, extracted from the wood of the camphor-tree. Pure camphor is very white, clear, and unctuous to the touch: the taste is bitterish-aromatic, and accompanied with a sense of coolness: the smell is particularly fragrant, something like that of rosemary, but much stronger. It has been long esteemed for its medicinal qualities, and has been justly celebrated in fevers, malignant and epidemic distempers. In delirium, where opiates failed in procuring sleep, but rather increased and aggravated the symptoms, this medicine has been often found to procure it. Physicians attribute these effects to its sedative qualities. It is a powerful medicine, capable of doing great good or harm. It is said to be poisonous to animals, often putting them into a sleep from which they never waken.
THE CINNAMON-PLANT.
This plant grows most abundantly in Ceylon, and is thus described by Bishop Heber. After speaking of the visits of a forenoon, he adds: “In the afternoon we drove through the far-famed cinnamon-gardens, which cover upward of seventeen thousand acres of land on the coast, the largest of which are near Colombo. The plant thrives best in a poor, sandy soil, in a damp atmosphere. It grows wild in the woods to the size of an apple-tree, but when cultivated is never allowed to grow more than ten or twelve feet in hight, each plant standing separate. The leaf is something like the laurel in shape, but of a lighter color. When it first shoots out it is red, and changes gradually to green. It is now out of blossom, but I am told the blossom is white, and spreads, when in full blossom, to cover the garden. After hearing so much of the spicy gales from this island, I was much disappointed at not being able to discover any scent, at least from the plants. In passing through the gardens, there is a very fragrant-smelling flower growing under them, which at first led us into the belief that we smelt the cinnamons, but we were soon undeceived. On pulling off a leaf or twig, you perceived the spicy odor very strongly, but I was surprised to hear that the flower had little or none. As the cinnamon forms the only considerable export of Ceylon, it is of course preserved with care. By the old Dutch law the penalty for cutting a branch was no less than the loss of a hand; at present a fine expiates the offense. The neighborhood of Colombo is particularly favorable to its growth, being well sheltered, with a high, equable temperature, and as showers fall frequently, the ground is never parched.”
THE TREE TEMPLE.
Among the miscellaneous wonders, or at least curiosities, that the traveler may behold as he passes through Italy, may be mentioned the tree temple, a view of which is given in the engraving below. This singular tree is one of the curious ornaments of a beautiful estate, called Matibo, in the neighborhood of Savigliano, in Piedmont, in northern Italy. It was planted some seventy years ago; but it was only within some thirty years that the idea was started of making it grow in the form of a temple, which, after much time, perseverance and labor, was finally realized. It consists, as may be seen in the engraving, of two stories, each of which has eight windows, and is capable of containing twenty persons. The floors are formed of branches twined together with great skill, and covered by nature with leafy carpets; and all around, the natural growth and verdure of the tree have formed thick walls, where flocks of birds have taken up their abodes and built their nests. The proprietor of the island Matibo has never disturbed these joyous little tenants of his property, but rather encouraged their presence; so that at all hours of the day, they may be heard fearlessly sporting and warbling, to the delight of the numerous visitors, who here enjoy alike the cool breezes and the beautiful prospect.
THE TERMITES, OR WHITE ANTS.
These curious and wonderful insects are found both in India and Africa. They are of several species, one or two of which construct works surpassing in skill those even of the bee and beaver, and comparatively of far greater size for them, than the boasted pyramids of the ancients are for man. The laborers employed among them in these works, are not a quarter of an inch in length; and yet the structures they rear rise to the hight of ten or even twelve feet above the surface of the earth, and in their interior construction and various arrangements, exceed even the works of man himself. The most striking parts of these structures are the royal apartments, the nurseries, magazines of provisions, the arched chambers and galleries, with their various communications; the ranges of the Gothic-shaped arches, projected, and not formed by mere excavation, some of which are two or three feet high, but which diminish rapidly, like the arches of aisles in perspective; the various roads, sloping staircases, and bridges consisting of one vast arch, constructed to shorten the distance between the several parts of the building, which would otherwise be connected only by winding passages. In the following engraving may be seen, on the right, one of the ant-hills as it appears externally; and on the left, a section of one of them, surmounted by its conical roof. In some parts of Senegal, the number, magnitude and closeness of these structures make them appear like the villages of the natives; and their strength is such, that when they have been raised to about half their hight, the wild bulls of the country stand on them, as sentinels, while the rest of the herd are feeding below. When at their full hight of ten or twelve feet, they are used by Europeans as look-out stations, whence they can see over the grass, which in Africa is, on an average, of the hight of thirteen feet. Four or five persons may stand on the top of one of these buildings, to look out for a vessel the approach of which may be expected.
The termites themselves are divided into three distinct ranks, or orders, viz., the laborers, or working insects; the soldiers, or the fighting order, who avoid all labor, and are about twice as long as the laborers, and nearly fifteen times their bulk; and lastly, the winged or perfect insects, which may be styled the nobility or gentry, who neither fight nor work, and from whom come the kings and queens of the establishment.
These insects are extremely destructive; and it is said that a deserted town has been known to be utterly destroyed by them in two or three years, so that not a vestige of it remained. At Bombay, in a few hours, they will demolish a large chest of books, papers, silks, or clothes, perforating them with a thousand holes; and they sometimes penetrate and eat up the timbers and boards of houses, and in the same manner destroy the timbers of a ship. The only way to preserve anything from their depredations, when they are in a neighborhood, is to put it on a platform resting on glass bottles, which, if kept free from dust, they can not ascend.
HUTS IN KAMTSCHATKA.
Side by side with the finished structures of animal instinct exhibited in the engraving of the ant hills above, we next give a picture of the rude huts of the uncivilized inhabitants of Kamtschatka, in their cold northern home, at the north-eastern extremity of Asia, which is one of the coldest spots on the face of the earth. It is impossible, in so severe a climate, to raise wheat, corn, or the common productions of warmer regions. The people, however, have a compensation for the scantiness of vegetable productions in the profusion of animal life which seems to fill alike the earth, the air and the water. The coasts swarm with seals and other marine animals; the rocks are covered with shell-fish; the bays abound in herrings, and the rivers with salmon and other most valuable fish. Flocks of grouse, wild geese and ducks, often darken the air. The country abounds in bears, which are fat, and greatly esteemed by the inhabitants as food. From all these sources, the people are supplied with the greatest abundance; and, as a consequence, they have sunk into a lazy and almost stupid sensuality. They are a short and copper-colored race, somewhat like the Esquimaux. Like them, they have dogs, which they use in sledges, as seen in the engraving. Their winter houses are half sunk in the earth, while those for summer are elevated on poles above it.
THE WHALE.
This vast monster of the deep is one of the wonders of the world, or at least of its mighty oceans. It is found chiefly in the more northern seas, where its food, consisting of small molluscous and crustaceous animals, but chiefly of the clio borealis, is found. Whales are often found from fifty to sixty, and some of them from ninety to one hundred feet in length, and from thirty to forty feet, and even more, in circumference. The true whale is remarkable for the immense size of its head, which constitutes a full third of the entire length of the animal. The eyes are very small, and placed just above the angles of the mouth. The external opening of the ears is scarcely perceptible. The pectoral fins are of moderate size, and located about two feet behind the angles of the mouth. The tail, or, more properly, the tail fin, consists of two parts, or lobes, of immense strength, measuring, in a full-grown whale, some twenty feet across, from tip to tip. It is wielded by muscles of enormous power, and thus becomes a weapon of offense and defense for the whale, as well as its chief means of locomotion. A single blow of the tail is sufficient to cut the stoutest whaleboat in two, and to send its fragments whirling through the air. The engraving gives a view of a right whale about to be harpooned; while in the distance is another, lashed to the ship for “cutting in,” and still another, which the sailors, having killed, are towing in toward it. The whale fishery was carried on by the Biscayans as early as the twelfth century; afterward it was taken up by the Dutch and the English, and it now engages nearly a tenth of the tunnage of the United States.
LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS.
One of the most wonderful events in the history of the world, was the voluntary exile of the forefathers of New England from their native country, and their landing (December twenty-first, 1620) at Plymouth—here, in the new world, to organize a community where they might enjoy personal freedom, and liberty of conscience, and to worship God as seemed right to themselves. The engraving on the following page gives a view of them as they landed, in a howling wilderness, inhabited only by savages and wild beasts, in the depth of winter, with no place of abode, or even shelter, and no trust but in their own resources and the kind providence of God which had thus far watched over and protected them. The history of their trials, their preservation, their growth and prosperity as a people, and of the wonderful country that has sprung up, and is still growing, with a giant growth, in the broad land which they found a wilderness, is one that fills us with wonder as we ponder it, and that should fill us with deep thankfulness to the great source of all mercies, both to them and ourselves.
The place where the pilgrims landed is well known as the celebrated
PLYMOUTH ROCK.
This is, in part, still in the same place where it stood when our forefathers first stepped upon it at their landing, and is pointed out to the visitor as “Plymouth rock,” or the “Pilgrim rock,” or the “Rock of the Pilgrims.” It is a hard kind of syenitic granite, of a dark gray color. The mica, which in part composes it, is in very small quantity, and in fine black particles. The rock is now in two pieces, each of which is about four feet through. One of these pieces, about six feet and a half in diameter, as already said, is still at the water’s edge, in its original position. The other part, represented in the engraving on the next page, has been removed from its natural location, and inclosed in an iron railing in front of “Pilgrim hall,” which was erected as a monumental edifice on land that once belonged to Governor Carver. Here it is visited by thousands, who, from year to year, go, as to a shrine of the most sacred associations, to the spot which is consecrated by the sufferings, the courage, and the piety of the founders of our nation.
We might fill pages with the narratives of their exposures, hardships and dangers; but they are more or less familiar to all. The history of their perils from the Indians, the native lords of the forest, is of itself full of excitement and thrilling interest. The latter, fearful lest the superior knowledge and rising power of the white men should in the end be the ruin of their own supremacy, were stirred up to endeavor to exterminate them; and though some powerful chiefs and tribes were steadfastly friendly, others were as steadfastly their foes. For years after the firm establishment of the colonies, the early settlers were compelled to go to church, on the Sabbath, armed, as represented in the engraving on the next page, that they might be ready, if need be, to defend themselves in case of an attack by the Indians. During the days of the Indian warfare such scenes were not uncommon, and more than once a congregation has been roused by such an attack, and gone forth to meet and disperse the foe, and then, setting their sentinels to watch, returned to the house of God, to thank him for their deliverance, and continue the worship of his holy day. Thanks to their labors, and toils, and self-denials, and heroic enterprise, to the principles that guided them and the institutions they established, and to the divine blessing attending all, we are not exposed to such perils; but may safely enjoy the privileges they have handed down to us, with none to molest us or make us afraid.
A WONDER OF ART.
There is now (1855) on exhibition in Paris, one of the most remarkable pieces of masterwork which the union of art and science has ever produced. It consists of a picture, of about three feet square. This picture is made up of colors admirable for their beauty and boldness, but there is no subject. The most experienced eye can detect nothing but disjointed and half-formed approximations toward a coherent design. The most able artist sees there only the finest colors, but no one can tell what they are intended to represent. In the middle of the picture, which is horizontally placed, is a mirror formed by a copper cylinder covered by a perfectly polished coating of silver. This mirror is usually veiled. So far there is little remarkable, and the greatest amateurs in painting would hardly consent to spend five francs on such an apparently profitless study. But it is impossible not to feel a glow of admiration, when, on uncovering the mirror, there is represented upon it in the brightest reflected rays, the whole scene of the Crucifixion. The partial coloring then takes a character of incontestable superiority, and presents to the astonished spectators a picture composed of six most perfect figures, depicted with a degree of boldness such as the master painters alone knew how to impart to the subject which it was their glory to represent.
THE WHALE-KILLER.
This fish is one of the wonders of the mighty deep, well known to those engaged in whaling, and in the Pacific cruisers. It is thus described by one who has often witnessed its attacks on the whale.
“The killer is the wolf of the ocean, and hunts in packs, and their tall dorsal fin can be constantly seen above the water. This fish has always as a companion, but swimming deeper, the sword-fish, and now and then can be seen the shark. On sighting their prey, which the killer sees at a great distance, the pack gives chase. The unconscious whale is slowly moving near the surface, and occasionally spouting, as it were in sport, jets of water above him. But he now suddenly sees the sea-wolf near him. Instinct at once teaches him that on the surface he can not be safe, and, taking in a long breath, he flukes; that is, dives. But there has been another enemy watching him from the depths below—the sword-fish, which now darts at him with the velocity of lightning, and perforates the whale beneath, with his long and spear-like nose. This sends him at once to the surface; here he again meets with his enemies, the killers; but as yet they are afraid to approach him. The whale now begins to see the extent of his danger, and for a time merely lashes the water with his ponderous fluke. He soon tires of this, and remains for a short time at rest; the pack now approach him, and he seeks safety in flight. But what can he do? The poor whale has a hump on his back, and steers unsteadily, while the killer’s tail and stiff fin steady him on his course. Nearer and nearer approach the pack to their victim; again he takes a long breath and dives. The sword-fish has steadily kept him in view; he, too, has a tall fin and long slender propelling tail; and while it is an effort to the whale to increase his speed, it is but play to the sword-fish, which again darts and perforates his prey, and sends the wounded whale again to the surface.
“The race again commences, but this time with diminished speed, the killers having separated to watch the rise of the whale, who, finding his enemies in every direction, courses in a circle, and again makes a third, and sometimes a fourth attempt to escape by diving, but is always met by the terrible spike of the sword-fish. He at last, weak, exhausted and dispirited, returns to the surface, where he again attempts escape by flight. Streams of blood mark his course; his enemies still follow steadily after him, until he stops and begins to lash and make the ocean foam around him; but now large streams of his life-blood are pouring out, and he is only increasing his weakness by the exertion, and merely lashing amidst his own gore. Tired, exhausted and faint, he rolls over. The deep red streaks of blood flowing from large orifices in his white belly can now be distinctly seen. The hungry pack now close, and one more bold than the rest seizes him near the throat and tears away the white skin and fat; he opens his mouth and bellows with pain. This is generally the signal for a combined attack. His tongue is seized and torn out; so are his eyes. The sword-fish now rises to the surface, and his tall spar-like protuberance is seen projecting over the body of the whale; the sharks also close in and feed on the fat rejected by the killers. In this state the whale makes a few dying struggles. The feast now commences and continues until the fat and sufficient flesh are stripped off to cause the carcass to become too heavy to float on the surface, and it sinks. The shark is left to enjoy his few streaks of fat, while the killer pack, accompanied by their companion, the sword-fish, rove again the broad ocean to seek another leviathan of the great deep.”
A PILE OF SERPENTS.
Baron Humboldt says: “In the savannas of Izacubo, Guiana, I saw the most wonderful and terrible spectacle that can be seen; and although it be not uncommon to the natives, no traveler has ever mentioned it. We were ten men on horseback, two of whom took the lead, in order to sound the passages, while I preferred to skirt the great forests. One of the blacks who formed the vanguard returned at full gallop, and called to me, ‘Here, sir, come and see the serpents in a pile.’ He pointed to something elevated in the middle of the savanna or swamp, which appeared like a bundle of arms. One of my company said, ‘This is certainly one of the assemblages of serpents which heap themselves on each other after a violent tempest. I have heard of these, but never saw any; let us proceed cautiously, and not too near them.’ When we were within twenty paces of it, the terror of our horses prevented our approaching nearer, to which none of us were inclined. On a sudden, the pyramid mass became agitated; a horrid hissing issued from it, thousands of serpents rolled spirally on each other, and shot forth out of the circle their hideous heads, presenting their envenomed darts and fiery eyes to us. I own I was the first to draw back, but when I saw this formidable phalanx remain at its post, and appear to be more disposed to defend itself than to attack us, I rode round, in order to view its order of battle, which faced the enemy on every side. I then thought what could be the design of this numerous assemblage; and I concluded that this species of serpent dreaded some colossean enemy, which might be the great serpent or cayman, and they reunite themselves after seeing the enemy, so as to resist this enemy in a mass.”
AMERICAN RUINS.
The recent discoveries in what is called the “Great Basin,” a tract of table-land lying between the Rocky and the Pacific chain of mountains, are exciting much interest, and awakening inquiry and speculation again as to the origin of the people who evidently, in a former period, inhabited these now desolate regions. Captain Walker, the mountaineer, passed through the center of this basin in 1850, and made some interesting revelations of what he saw. These statements have been called in question, on account of their supposed improbability; but a later trip of Lieutenant Beale gives a degree of confirmation to the facts, which will make the credibility of the statements more readily admitted. The whole country, from the Colorado to the Rio Grande, between the Gila and San Juan, is full of ruined habitations and cities, most of which are on this table-land. Captain Walker states that, in traversing this desert, he had frequently met with crumbling masses of masonry and numberless specimens of antique pottery.
In his last trip across, he saw the ruins of a city more than a mile in extent, the streets of which ran at right angles. The houses had all been built of stone, but all had been reduced to ruin by the action of some great heat, which had evidently passed over the whole country. In the center of the city rose abruptly a rock twenty or thirty feet high, upon the top of which stood a portion of the walls of what had once been an immense building. The outline of the building was still distinct, although only the northern angle, with walls fifteen or eighteen feet long, and ten feet high, was standing. These walls were constructed of stone, well quarried and well built. Lieutenant Beale, on his first trip across the continent, discovered in the midst of the wilderness of Gila, what appeared to be a strong fort, the walls of great thickness, built of stone. He traversed it, and found it contained forty-two rooms. A correspondent of the Placerville Herald gives an account more wonderful still, of a stone bridge, which had also been discovered, the foundations of which were of stone, and nearly six hundred feet from one of the outer abutments to the other, while between the two are no less than seven distinct piers. This bridge has the appearance of a river once flowing between its piers, though now there is not the slightest appearance of such a river in that vicinity.
Next we have an account of a strange race of people, neither whites nor Indians, called Moquis, lighter in color than the Indians of California. The women are tolerably fair, not being so much exposed to the sun. Among them Captain Walker saw three perfectly white, with white hair and light eyes. They raise all kinds of grain, melons and vegetables. They have also a number of orchards, filled with many kinds of fruit-trees. The peaches they raise are particularly fine. They have large flocks of sheep and goats, but very few beasts of burden or cattle. They are a harmless, inoffensive race; kind and hospitable to strangers, and make very little resistance when attacked. The warlike Navajos, who dwell in the mountains to the north-east of them, are in the habit of sweeping down upon them every two or three years, and driving off their stock. At such times, they gather up all that is movable from their farms, and fly for refuge to their mountain stronghold. Here their enemies dare not follow them. When a stranger approaches, they appear on the top of the rocks and houses, watching his movements. One of their villages, at which Captain Walker stayed for several days, is over six hundred yards long. The houses are mostly built of stone and mortar; some of adobe. They are very snug and comfortable, and many of them are two and even three stories high. The inhabitants are considerably advanced in some of the arts, and manufacture excellent woolen clothing, blankets, leather, basket-work and pottery. Unlike most of the Indian tribes in this country, the women work within doors, the men performing all the farm and out-door labor. These people, according to the accounts, have never had any intercourse with the white race.
INSECT SLAVERY.
The most remarkable fact connected with the history of ants, is the propensity possessed by certain species to kidnap the workers of other species, and compel them to labor for the benefit of the community, thus using them completely as slaves; and, as far as we yet know, the kidnappers are red or pale-colored ants, and the slaves, like the ill-treated natives of Africa, are of a jet black. The time for capturing slaves extends over a period of about ten weeks, and never commences until the male and female are about emerging from the pupa state; and thus the ruthless marauders never interfere with the continuation of the species. When the red ants are about to sally forth on a marauding expedition, they send scouts to ascertain the exact position in which a colony of negroes may be found. These scouts having discovered the objects of their search, return to the nest and report their success. Shortly afterward, the army of red ants marches forth, headed by a vanguard, which is perpetually changing; the individuals which constitute it, when they advance a little before, are sent to the rear, and their places occupied by others. The vanguard consists of eight or ten ants only. When they have arrived near the negro colony, they disperse, wandering through the herbage and hunting about, as if aware of the propinquity of the object of their search, yet ignorant of its exact position. At last they discover the settlements, and the foremost of the invaders, rushing impetuously to the attack, are met, grappled with, and frequently killed by the negroes on guard. The alarm is quickly communicated to the interior of the nest; the negroes sally forth by thousands, and the red ants rushing to the rescue, a desperate conflict ensues, which, however, always terminates in the defeat of the negroes, who retire to the innermost recesses of their habitation. Now follows the scene of pillage. The red ants, with their powerful mandibles, tear open the sides of the ant-hills, and rush into the heart of the citadel. In a few minutes each invader emerges, carrying in its mouth the pupa of a worker negro, which it has obtained in spite of the vigilance and valor of its natural guardians. The red ants return in perfect order to their nests, bearing with them their living burdens. On reaching the nest the pupa appears to be treated precisely as their own; and the workers, when they emerge, perform the various duties of the community with the greatest energy and apparent good-will. They repair the nest, excavate passages, collect food, feed the larvæ, take the pupa into the sunshine, and perform every office which the welfare of the colony seems to require. They conduct themselves entirely as if fulfilling their original destination.
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Transcriber’s Note
At 94.32, there is a paragraph preceding some verse which ends abruptly, without punctuation. It seems that the intent was to continue the thought with the first lines of the poem.
At 530.18, a closing quote mark occurs where there is no opening quote. The previous paragraph closes an extended quotation, which is not re-opened. It is difficult to say whether the ‘voice’ has shifted. In any case, the closing quote in question has been removed.
The word ‘bass-relief’ appears thirty-two times, while the more familiar ‘bas-relief’ appears only twice. Both versions have been retained.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.
9.18 an object must be seen[,] Removed. 18.1 “THE CASTA[G]NO DE CENTO CAVILLI,” Inserted. 26.17 rate of eight[y]-six feet an hour Added. 28.2 wholly disap[p]eared Inserted. 36.1 mottled with black and[ and] white spots Redundant. 82.17 Mauna Loa and Mauna [R/K]ea Replaced. 87.33 In many [y/p]arts of the precipice Replace. 126.23 by any sounding line[,/.] Replaced. 198.12 carried on in Colebrook[ ]dale Removed. 230.17 Earth’s universal family.[”] Added. 275.23 [‘/“]the waterfall mountain,” Replaced. 289.1 some of the savan[t]s Inserted. 317.17 or St. Helmo’s fires sic: Elmo’s. 324.28 I had thought a mere fable.[’/”] Replaced. 348.36 from such a[ ]surface Inserted. 421.6 four hund[d]red feet Removed. 427.27 it[s] extreme length Added. 446.21 fresh-water mus[cle/sel]s Replaced. 470.23 the name of E[d/l] Hedjeaz Probable. 470.24 the cities of Medi[an/na] and Taif Transposed. 511.15 PYRAMIDS OF MERO[E/Ë] Replaced. 516.3 so has it been forever!’[”] Added. 525.37 and quitted them forever.[”] Added. 610.15 in Agræ[./,] Replaced. 634.22 these ancient piles.[”] Added. 649.35 the f[ri/ir]th of Forth Transposed. 655.24 On the top is a bas[o/i]n Replaced. 710.37 [“]France, Belgium, Holland, Added. 798.27 closed by the operator at will[.] Restored.