Young Americans Abroad. Various

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СКАЧАТЬ is our frequent study, and is daily consulted with advantage. To-day we dined at the famous Williams's, in Old Bailey, where boiled beef is said to be better than at any other place in London. It was certainly as fine as could be desired. The customers were numerous, and looked like business men. The proprietor was a busy man, and his eyes seemed every where. A vision of cockroaches, however, dispelled the appetite for a dessert, and we perambulated our way to the Monument. This has a noble appearance, and stands on Fish Street Hill. The pillar is two hundred and two feet high, and is surmounted by a gilt flame. The object of the Monument is to commemorate the great fire of London in Charles II.'s reign.

      It had an inscription which ascribed the origin of the fire to the Catholics; but recently this has been obliterated. It was to this inscription and allegation that Pope referred in his lines—

      "Where London's column, pointing to the skies, Like a tall bully, lifts its head, and lies."

      There are few things in London that have impressed us more than the fine, massive bridges which span the Thames, and are so crowded with foot passengers and carriages. Every boy who has read much has had his head full of notions about London Bridge; that is, old London Bridge, which was taken down about thirty years ago. The old bridge was originally a wooden structure, and on the sides of the bridge were houses, and the pathway in front had all sorts of goods exposed for sale, and the Southwark gate of the bridge was disfigured with the heads and quarters of the poor creatures who were executed for treason.

      The new bridge was commenced in 1825, and it was opened in 1831 by William IV. and Queen Adelaide. The bridge has five arches; the central one is one hundred and fifty feet in the clear, the two next one hundred and forty feet, and the extreme arches one hundred and thirty feet. The length, including the abutments, is about one thousand feet, its width eighty-three feet, and the road for carriages fifty-five feet.

      The great roads leading to London Bridge have been most costly affairs; and I was told that a parish and its church had been destroyed to make these approaches. The men of different generations, who, for almost one thousand years, looked at the old bridge, would stare at the present one and its present vicinity, if they were to come back again. Southwark Bridge was commenced in 1814, and finished in 1819. It has three arches, and the central arch is two hundred and forty feet, which is the greatest span in the world. In this bridge are five thousand three hundred and eight tons of iron. Blackfriars Bridge was commenced in 1760, and opened in 1770. It has nine elliptical arches, of which the middle one is one hundred feet in width. Recently this bridge has been thoroughly repaired. I think this is my favorite stand-point for the river and city. Nowhere else have I obtained such a view up and down the river. Here I have a full prospect of the Tower, St. Paul's Cathedral, Somerset House, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and perhaps twenty-five other churches! But the great bridge of all is the Waterloo one, commenced in 1811, and opened in 1817, on the 18th of June, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo. Of course, the Duke of Wellington figured upon the occasion. At this point the river is one thousand three hundred and twenty-six feet wide; and the bridge is of nine elliptical arches, each of one hundred and twenty feet space, and thirty-five feet high above high water, and its entire length two thousand four hundred and fifty-six feet. It is painful to hear the sad stories which have a connection with this magnificent structure. It seems the chosen resort of London suicides, and very frequent are the events which almost justify its appellation—"the Bridge of Sighs." I love to walk this and the other bridges, and look at the mighty city, and think of its wonderful history and its existing place in the affairs of the world; and I cannot help thinking of the reflection of the wise man—"One generation passeth away, but the earth remaineth." I have never felt my own insignificance so much, Charley, as when walking in one of these crowded streets. I know no one; I am unknown; I am in solitude, and feel it more, perhaps, than I should if alone upon a mountain top or in a wilderness. I am sure I have told you enough for once, and perhaps you are as tired of my letter as I was in going over the places I have written to you about; so I will relieve your patience.

      I am yours always,

      weld.

Letter 6.

       Table of Contents

      London.

      Dear Charley:—

      All round London there are the most exquisite villages or towns, full of charming retreats, boxes of wealthy tradesmen, and some very fine rows of brick and stone residences, with gardens in front. I am amused to see almost every house having a name. Thus you find one house called, on the gateway, Hamilton Villa, the next Hawthorne Lodge, whilst opposite their fellows rejoice in the names, Pelham House, Cranborne Cottage; and so it is with hundreds of neat little domiciles. I think the road up to St. John's Wood is one of the prettiest I have seen; and there are in it perhaps two hundred habitations, each having its sobriquet. Since writing to you last we have been to Camberwell, a very pretty place, two or three miles from the city. We called on a gentleman who had a party that night, and we were politely invited, and spent an agreeable evening. The supper was elegant, and the ladies were quite inquisitive as to our social manners. One gentleman present had a son in Wisconsin, and he seemed to fancy that, as that state was in the United States, it was pretty much like the rest of the country. We told him that Wisconsin was about as much like New York and Massachusetts as Brighton, in 1851, was like what it was one hundred years ago. When we talk with well-educated persons here, we are much amused at their entire unacquaintedness with American geography and history. I think an importation of Morse's School Geography would be of great service. We very often lose our patience when we hear about the great danger of life in America. I find very intelligent and respectable persons who fancy that life is held by a slight tenure in the Union, and that law and order are almost unknown. Now, the first week we were in London the papers teemed with accounts of murders in various parts of England. One newspaper detailed no less than eleven oases of murder, or executions on account of murders. Poison, however, seems just at present the prevailing method by which men and women are removed.

      As to accidents in travel, we, no doubt, have our full share; but since our arrival in England the railroad trains have had some pretty rough shakings, and the results in loss of life and limb would have passed for quite ugly enough, even had they happened in the west. I very much wish you could have been with us on Easter Monday, when we passed the day at Greenwich, and were at the renowned Greenwich Fair, which lasts for three days. The scene of revelry takes place in the Park, a royal one, and really a noble one. Here all the riff-raff and bobtail of London repair in their finery, and have a time. You can form no notion of the affair; it cannot be described. The upper part of the Park, towards the Royal Observatory, is very steep, and down this boys and girls, men and women, have a roll. Such scenes as are here to be witnessed we cannot match. Nothing can exceed the doings that occur. All the public houses swarm, and in no spot have I ever seen so many places for drinking as are here. The working-men of London, and apprentices, with wires and sweethearts, all turn out Easter Monday. It seems as though all the horses, carts, chaises, and hackney coaches of the city were on the road. We saw several enormous coal wagons crammed tightly with boys and girls. On the fine heath, or down, that skirts the Park, are hundreds of donkeys, and you are invited to take a halfpenny, penny, or twopenny ride. All sorts of gambling are to be seen. One favorite game with the youngsters was to have a tobacco box, full of coppers, stuck on a stick standing in a hole, and then, for a halfpenny paid to the proprietor, you are entitled to take a shy at the mark. If it falls into the hole, you lose; if you knock it off, and away from the hole, you take it. It requires, I fancy, much adroitness and experience to make any thing at "shying" at the "bacca box." At night, Greenwich is all alive—life is out of London and in the fair. But let the traveller who has to return to town beware. The road is full of horses and vehicles, driven by drunken men and boys; and, for four or five miles, you can imagine that a city is besieged, and that the inhabitants are flying from the sword. O, such weary-looking СКАЧАТЬ