European Letters, by T.W. Patton to
The Asheville Citizen:
Description of the Tour of
the North Carolina Teachers, During the Summer of 1889
LIFE IN LONDON. [pages27-32] |
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LIFE IN
LONDON.
London, england,
July 25, 1889.
dear citizen
:—Most appropriately
our first act in England's
capital is to make our devoirs to
Britain's Queen; but do not understand us as attending Her
Majesty's Drawing Room, to which, no
doubt, we would have been urgently invited had H, R. H. been
advised of our presence, but we have
always had a strong dislike to a pigeon-tail coat, and
learning that Her Most Gracious M.
preferred that her male
guests should be so adorned,
we decided to spare her the disappointment
she would feel at not seeing
us by not sending our card, and begging
our professional brethren of the
Times, Graphic, etc., etc.,
to make as little notice as
possible of our presence. In this way
we trust Her Majesty will be spared
the mortification she would
otherwise endure.
But
we attended court at her royal palace
of Windsor, taking advantage of her
absence there from to slip in, incog, as it were, and so
successful were our efforts
that scarcely any of the red coated lackeys
recognized us, and those who did,
observing our wish, allowed us to pass,
with the simple request
that we should leave behind our cane,
overcoat, etc., etc., that
they might inspect them studiously
during our call.
The stupendous size of the castle is fully
appreciated in the view afforded as we approach by train and as we
ascend the
hill on which it is located. A description by metes and bound'-, so many
feet by so
many feet, would give you no idea at all
of
it. Perhaps, though, you may be interested
to hear that from the summit of
the central round tower,
looking down over the whole expanse
of stone buildings we were
told, and believe, that below us
were the tops of over 900 chimneys,
all leading from the various apartments of
this palace. (Perhaps this may
account
for the extremely smoky
state of things which here seems to pervade all nature,
physical, political, moral and
intellectual. Physical, as
evidenced by a London fog which now seems to threaten us; political,
as observed in the way in which these
people circle around their Queen,
very much resembling a swarm
of bees; moral, yes, with all the boasted civilization of
the established church, its huge
chapels, abbeys, cathedrals, we have never seen
anything to approach the absolute
abandonment to disgusting lewdness which pervades the dimly
lighted streets, even under the
shadow ot the great St. Paul's; intellectual, musty with all the
learning of past ages rather than grasping the
problems of to-da3r, and
deciding how best to relieve the evils which, on the
Strand, so distress and pain us.
The state apartments being
open to public inspection, we make a
round of them under charge of a policeman, who seemed to imagine
that our notebook might be made the vehicle for carrying away one of
the royal family's portraits, which no amount of money would tempt us to
accept as a gift, and in his dread he hurried us past some things we
would fain have examined at leisure, especially a wonderful tapestry,
representing the whole history of Queen Esther, and all its lines
as distinct and delicate as the painting could be made, and bringing out
in most distinct clearness every
feature of each character mentioned
in the beautiful story.
The architecture and finish of the rooms were, of course, very elaborate
and grand,
and equally, of course, smacked of royalty
at every point, pressing upon the mind
of the beholder thoughts of wonder
as to how much longer in this
enlightened age effete ideas
of the past and dark periods
would continue to prevail. Sentiment
absolutely dominating mind—such
to us seems monarchical government.
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The
most pleasing thing at Windsor is
the
memorial chapel erected by the Queen
in
honor of her good husband. This gave
evidence that Victoria was
not only H, R. H., or the mother of the Prince of Wales, but a pure,
true English woman and simple,
loving, devoted wife; and we
also think that this exquisite tribute was
worthily dedicated to the Prince
Consort, who as a true man did
much in his short day to elevate and improve his people,
and had his valuable life been
spared
would have till now set an example
which we hope, but do not believe, his
son may follow. The interior of this
chapel is adorned in most excellent design
and taste, just enough of
statuary to be pleasing, but not
wearying to the eye, the walls covered with most exquisite scriptural
representations in mosaic and sculptures in bas relief. Altogether we
pronounce it a worthy monument to a worthy man, and worthy of the
loving wife by whom it was built.
St.
George's chapel, of which we have
heard so much, did not
long detain us. These old churches
are 'becoming somewhat
monotonous. Our history cannot
keep up with the endless lines of
tombs of kings and queens, and
the dates which so delight
our entertainers to us are as dry
as their brown bread
(of
which we will
tell you more soon), and we scarcely
think a record of them would
at all edify you.
Before leaving the town of Windsor we
visited the famous Eton school, in which
nearly 1,000 boys are being taught. Their playground was especially
beautiful,
of large expanse, covered with magnificent
elms, shading the richest grass which sloped even to the brink of the
Thames. It was very sweet, and well
adorned by crowds of cheerful English
lads, all full of healthful fun. A crowd
was engaged in the
national game of cricket, and on
enquiring the name of one of
the brightest we were told he was "The Honorable Robert Ward "
Plain "Bob" he would have been in
America, and much better that would have been
for him. But here, no doubt, 700
years ago some ancestor picked
up H. R. M.'s handkerchief,
and so this
boy must be spoken of by his
pla3'mates as "The Honorable."
Many tilings in England do not please
us. (No doubt this announcement will cause much commotion, but we must
speak with candor.) The delightful rolls
of
Scotland are a thing of the past. The
bread here is the most utterly detestable
that ever entered our lips; dry, stale,
sour, tough—in short, uneatable. The restaurants, which are numerous, do
not
compare with ours. In New York a steak
for one is accompanied with delightful
bread and butter and is an ample lunch
for two, but here if you want enough for one be sure to order enough for
six, and then you
will be charged extra for the
tough bread, which yon vainly attempt
to gnaw. We find it far more satisfactory
to seek a dinner "table d'hote," but even then if you ask for coffee it
is an extra charge, and the water is so tepid
and disagreeable (ice being unheard
of)
that either tea, coffee, wine
or ale, is a necessity. The
English ale, too, is a great
disappointment to us. None of the
sparkling refreshment which our
lager affords, but flat, warm,
bitter, miserable. The
courtesy which so pleased us in Scot
land is left behind. Here the lackeys
are gruff, rude and in all
respects disagreeable,
accepting your modest fee with an
air that makes you feel that you are
a beggar, seeking alms from a
millionaire.Such is our
experience thus far in L'-ndon. _____
london,
Monday morning, July 29.
dear citizen:—For
the past two days
your con'espondent has been busily engaged
in searching for some London locals
to adorn your columns, with a very moderate degree of success, because a
continued diet of sour bread and stale
water has a tendency to promote rather
the moralizing side of his
constitution, and to tinge all he sees with a tone of
sadness, almost amounting to depression
of spirit, so that he feels a hesitation
in coming before the Asheville
public.
But
we have seen many things and
thought a great deal, and
we must try to
tell of the former, even if we are
unable to keep out
occasionally our own reflections.
A
visit to Parliament House was very
much a repetition of that
to the State apartments in Windsor
Castle. A hurried walk through the rooms with a
guide in front, pretending to describe the
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paintings, in a sing-song
kind of a way, and a policeman behind, insisting that we shall "pass
hon;'urry up, please."
And so we are crowded and jostled
through the beautiful corridors and
rooms, and come out with mind so confused as to be afraid to
attempt a description, even of any one of the really exquisite
paintings, statues or tapestries
which we have seen but not enjoyed.
Of
course our brain holds the same impression
ofthe old rascally MormonHenry
VIII, who is accompanied by his six wives, and looks very much as if he
was considering the propriety of establishing
still another church in
order to get permission to marry six more, when a merciful providence cut short his beastly existence.
The
most interesting part of the buildings
to us is Westminster Hall, where we
are permitted to linger a
few moments, and catch inspiration
ofthe scenes which its walls have witnessed and to think with
sadness upon the number of good and true men who there have been
sentenced to cruel torture and death, even as the martyred Wallace was,
"to be hung, drawn and quartered" because he had done deeds most noble,
and had dared to hold and express
opinions differing from those of the powers that be. Truly,
intolerance is not a new thing, nor
is it a thing of the past. Many of us know that even in America, and in
dear little Asheville, a man
is advised to form his mind
according to the dictation of the party bosses; but, as the days
of "hanging, drawing and quartering" are
past, some men decline to do so..
We
now enter Westminster Abbey, and
truly are astonished at
the sight which greets us. Description after description
we have read and listened to, and yet
we had not the slightest idea of that which
we now see as we stand astonished,
awe struck, in this wonderful
church. How then can we attempt to give you a faint description ?
Truly it will be a failure we know, but try to sympathize with us as we
enter the north transept and look through the lofty arching columns in
all directions, surrounded at its base with
statues in white marble of every
imaginable shape and design, illustrating the
virtues of men and women whose ashes
lie beneath, and impressing
one with the
remembrance, as stated on the tablet of the poet Gray, that
"Life is a jest, and all
things show it: I thought so once, but now I know it."
We
can conceive of nothing more absolutely
wearisome than an inspection of this
tremendous Abbey; perhaps any one of its works of art would
delight us, but the tout en semble oppresses us be3'ond
measure. Of course we are delighted
with a walk through the chapels which contain the royal tombs,
although the guide hurries us along
all too fast for our wish.
Everything we pass, see or touch is
reeking with history, and no one can
fail to realize in himself a feeling that it is impossible to
convey to others, as he stands at the very spot which contains the ashes
of poor headless Queen Mary, and not far away those of her cruel persecutor
Queen Elizabeth, and sees the royal chair on which the Scottish,
Irish and more recently, the English
kings, have all been crowned, while seated upon the "King's
Stone," of which the legend is that it composed the pillow of Jacob when
he dreamed his dream of the ladders reaching up into Heaven, and saw
the bright angels ascending and
descending on errands of mercy.
Of course geologists tell
us that this is impossible; that no such stone can be found in the East,
but perhaps they do not know everything yet; and for ourselves,
we prefer to hold to the old, old story, and hope that all
successive monarchs may see the
loveliness of the vision and
be inclined to "go and do thou likewise."
A
wonderful piece of carving is seen in
one
of the numerous side chapels, a husband
supporting the form of his dying
wile, while from the tomb, on which the figures are placed, Death darts
out, grim in all the horrors with which he can be imagined, and
directs his javelin at the lovely,
drooping form.
A
few American mementos are found,
and our Longfellow is appropriately enshrined
among the nobility less noble than he. Also we see with sadness a
monument in memory of Maj. Andre,
sacrificed to the treachery of
Arnold, and we reflect how much we would prefer at this day to have been the
victim rather than the rascal who
escaped ; truly a few ...
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fleeting years make many
hard things come all right.
As
we before remarked, a sense of extreme
weariness attends our visit to
Westminster Abbey; it is so far beyond our power of grasping its
marvelous beauties and adornments.
Very different is the sensation produced by St. Paul's
Cathedral. Its wonderfully calm and
peaceful magnitude, its lofty
airiness unadorned by aught
else than its own perfection of proportion; its statues of the
very best art, located so as to allow a
visitor to see one at a time, and to
drink in its beauties; and most appropriately in this grand
church we stand, and fain would
kneel before the form of John Howard, truly a philanthropist,
"who traversed the civilized world to reduce
the sum of human misery, from the
throne to the dungeon."
Here we could realize the scene in the grand old temple, where King
Solomon "spread
forth his hands" in prayer to the
God who chose his house, and this as
his own. In no other place have we
ever felt so near the Throne.
What curious people we are, not satisfied
with the sweec and holy thoughts
engendered by St. Paul's. We hasten
thence to the terrible Tower, with
all its horrors of murders and
cruelties, enough to make the most hardened man shudder at the
consideration that they emanated from the brain, if not the heart,
called human.
Here we, with the same morbid curiosity
which brought the crowd of sightseers,
looked into the room in which the
innocent young princes were most
foully killed, and saw the spot where their
bones were recovered years upon
years afterwards, and borne to their present
resting place in Westminster Abbey,
and where innocent Anne Boleyn was cruelly
beheaded in order to make room for
another Mrs. Henry VIII, and where the
gallant knight, who first established
our own colony, was confined
and doomed to death; and then we painfully climb the
narrow winding stair to Beauchamp
Tower, whose rugged walls of
stone, not so hard as the hearts of the tyrants, are
indented with scrolls and emblems,
placed there by the poor prisoners who
thus beguiled the weary days, of
which
only too few were allowed them on
earth.
At
the Traitor's gate, through which
the
steps lead down to the Thames, we
fancy we can see the barge rowed up to
deliver its burden, brought from the
judgment seat of Westminster Hall, into
the cold stern embrace of these massive,
frowning walls, from which there could
be
no escape other than through the
gate of death.
Now
is it not a marvelous thing that the outcome of all these horrors should
be
a nation such as this, in which every
individual seems to feel a personal interest
in his sovereign ? Would we not
aiore naturally expect that the people
would be roused to indignant rebellion
against a government in which it was
ever possible for such deeds to be enacted
? And yet the fact faces us that Great Britain is the most powerful
nation of the world, and that its chief strength consists in the
absolute devotion of the people to
their Queen. Oh! if they would only teach their bakers how to
make decent bread, and their barbers
to give a comfortable shave, what a glorious land this would be!!
london,
July 30, 1889.
dear citizen
:—This is the day that
we longed to have with us
all the boys and girls in Buncombe. Of course we thought of our own
little ones chiefly, but still we did wish for all the others, when we
stood in the centre of the big Zoological Garden, in which there were
hundreds of bright children waiting
their turn to mount to the back of one of the largest elephants
we ever saw, who would walk with
dignity up to the scaffold erected for the purpose, allow his
precious burden to alight, and wait patiently
until his broad back was covered by another score of happy
urchins, and then march gravely away
along the paths, and between the beds of sweet, bright flowers,
until he thought these had received
their share of fun, and then
go back again to change his load. There was a sort of fascination
to watch the huge beast, so gentle towards his little
friends and admirers.
There were several elephants employed
in
this way, but none seemed to give and
take the same degree of
pleasure as the ... |
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one that we have
described; and there were also some very fine, large camels, with their
curious humps, and they too were doing good service in riding the
children.
When we entered the monkey house we
again exclaimed "Oh! if
our children were here" what fun they would have in
watching the funny antics of the
numerous monkeys, of all kinds and descriptions, who are
swinging and climbing, and jumping, and chattering to each other and to
all of us. One bright little fellow, like a flash sprang to the side of
the cage, thrust out his saucy paw, and
plucked a flower from the hat of a
young lady, but upon smelling
at it and finding it had no
perfume he threw it at the rightful owner, in high disgust, and went back
to chattering more than before, no
doubt telling how he had been
taken in.
We are not ourselves so
far removed from childhood but that we would have liked to watch the
monkeys all day, but many other things are to be seen in the few
remaining days of our visit. So away
we go to South Kensington Museum, and wander through its lengthy corridors,
and see more strange and curious things than our poor brain can
possibly contain, and into its gallery of sweet paintings where we enjoy
the famous cartoons of Raphael, seven in number,
representing scenes in the New
Testament. The one which
seemed to us the best was "The death of Ananias" and it was certainly
not calculated to encourage falsehood.
The apostle seemed to speak again "Sold ye the land for so much" and
the poor wretched liar seemed at this
very moment, to have fallen at thetr
feet.
Another most wonderful
painting was the death of poor, sweet Amy Robsart,
in which her beautiful body is lying prone on the rough stones, at
the bottom of the terrible pit into which she had been lured by the
wretch Vardrey, imitating her
husband's call. Horror and remorse are well depicted in the face
of the earl, as he discovers the body
of his neglected wife, whose
sweet character is so beautifully
portrayed in Scott's Kenilworth.
Our next enjoyment is a
view of "The Arthur Memorial," a
magnificent obelisk, erected
in Kensington Gardens in memory of the Prince Consort. We are
told that the cost was a half
million of pounds
sterling, and can readily believe it. The
height is two hundred and seventy-five
feet, and it covers a
gigantic statue, seated, of Prince
Arthur, in burnished brass, while around its base are statues
in marble of distinguished men of
all professions. We took
time to count them, and found
them to number one hundred and seventy-two, while at each corner
are groups representing agriculture,
engineering, commerce,
manufactures, and on a lower
level Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, each of which cost ten
thousand pounds, and looks as if the
money had been faithfully expended.
A
weary walk through the yast British Museum winds up a fatiguing day,
and we can only feel, that we wish we
were in a comfortable, papoose-looking
concern such as Cleopatra occupies,
where we would at last be
at rest from aching bones and
burning corns. We looked upon the mummy spread out to
the gaze of the reckless herd, which is labeled
"Cleopatra," and thought can this
be the end of the lovely Egyptian
Queen ? Truly with King Solomon we cry "Vanity of vanity, all is vanity."
A little bit of moralizing
now which you may print or not print, as you like. It will do us good
all the same, to relieve our mind of these thoughts. We
are traversing some of London's
streets, worse than any we ever saw in New
York or elsewhere. Abandoned,
drunken, dissolute women on
every side, men no better; aye, much worse, when we cry out. oh!
for a Dickens to write this up, to
let these English see the satire of their life, and warn to what
it is leading. Do vou remember his
opening sentence in "The Tale of Two Cities," how the handsome
king and the ugly queen sat upon the
throne of France, and the poor boy had his flesh torn with red hot irons
because he failed to take off
his hat when a company of dirty monks passed at a
distance, and how this sowed the
seed of the dreadful revolution and the bloody
guillotine; how on Saturday last the
granddaughter of Queen Victoria was married, as our cabman told
us, to the "Hearl of Fife," who was
forthwith made "Dook," and the marriage was
solemnized by a high official of the
established church, and the bridal party all partook of the
blessed sacrament, and ... |
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the chimes rang merrily,
merrily, and the big bells pealed, and pealed, and pealed; in short all
was done to show what a solemn and holy thing is marriage; and yet
before the chimes had ceased, or the
bells stopped pealing, under the shadows of every church in London,
not excepting Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's Cathedral, can be found
scores of poor forsaken women, Queen
Victoria's subjects plying
their awful, soul destroying
calling. Oh! ye, who today
have solemnized a royal marriage so solemnly, so appropriately,
cannot you do something to relieve
or check this dreadful evil ?
If not,
"What will the harvest be ?"
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