The Middlebury Register

Summer Tour in Europe.

10.

London, July 21, 1858.

"From Aix la Chapelle we went to Antwerp, on Monday. It is a fine city. We ascended the tower of the cathedral and had a wide view over that level country, including Brussels and a glimpse of Waterloo. We looked at Brussels lace, which is made at Antwerp rather than at Brussels. We passed from Antwerp directly to Ostend: there, last evening, took the little steamer which crosses the English Channel, and arrived at Dover a little after mid-night. We passed our trunks very easily through the custom house, and this morning came direct to London. As I stepped ashore in England last night, it seemed as though I had really taken a step towards home. As I entered the cars to-day, I almost expected to meet you, when we should arrive at the next station. We shall be here a fortnight, shall then probably go to Edinburgh, across Scotland to Glasgow, from Glasgow over to Ireland, to Dublin there, and from thence to Liverpool. 'Our way lies straight before us, and we think the time will pass very rapidly.'"

Except at London, but little time was reserved for "the fast anchored isle,"and in this we find notes rather of the flowers that play about its brink, than of that growth of sturdy English oak, which we fondly suppose the ocean cherishes even while its tempests have tried it. The rose of England, to be sure, we see at Hampton Court, at the Parliament House, at Westminster Abbey, where its fallen leaves are strown, the thistle of Scotland is to spring by the mirror of Loch Lomond, and the shamrock, that precious trefoil with a dozen leaves, shall bloom like a miracle, to be seen by us, by the lakes of Killarney. First in the historical light—Westminster Abbey :

"The monuments to Elizabeth and Mary are well preserved,"—ladies who illustrated their faith by their works,—"and that of Mary Queen of Scots is perhaps the most beautiful of any in the cathedral, and so far as I saw, entire. The edifice itself is spacious and lofty, on a scale of magnificence equal to the best in Italy, but in this respect there is a difference. All churches there are scrupulously restored from mischances and accidents, and the statuary too, but in this the mutilations remain, and give a most antique air to the whole.—The Queen was crowned here, seated in a chair,which without the crimson and gold which adorn it on state occasions, is only a heavy old wooden thing, but for 500 years the kings of England and Scotland have used it on the coronation day, which alone gives it importance in all eyes. Beneath its seat. resting upon the two lower rounds, is the stone on which the Scottish kings sat when crowned, and this is now a constant appendage to the chair itself."

"We visited the tower, saw the prison where Walter Raleigh was confined, and the arches which once were cells for royal prisoners, and numerous memorials of those dark and stormy times, when the good and the fair wore no more exempt from the block and the scaffold, than the base and undeserving. The spot where Anna Boleyne was beheaded, is paved with dark marbles to distinguish it from other parts of the court, but it was not so startling to me as the mount, a small eminence in Hampton Court, where Henry VIII stood to receive the signal by night of the moment when the deed was done. Through the vista between long rows of trees, I could dimly see with my own eyes the spire of St. Paul's, ten miles distant and had it been clear, I might have seen the tower itself. The little piece of ground is enclosed by an iron fence, and is called the Mount of Henry VIII."

"We visited Hampton Court, which is regal still, though no longer inhabited by royalty. Wolsey, you know, when asked by his master why he built so magnificently, said he was doing it as a gift for the king; and the monarch accepted the gift. The rooms are filled with paintings, and here and there are remains of state furniture of great elegance. The grounds are perfection itself—flowers and fountains, lawns and hedges, and trees such as cannot be found anywhere but in England'"

The party were pleasantly situated in London, having taken rooms at the West End. Mr. and Mrs. W—, whom we have known here as visitors, were added to their number, and with Mr. and Mrs. S—, he formerly Secretary of one of the benevolent societies, who had joined them at New York, would attend them at the North. Of course they heard Mr. Spurgeon,and were well pleased with Drs. Cummings and Hamilton,whom they heard
in their churches, and with a clergyman of the establishment who addressed an audience of the working classes in Exeter Hall.— Yesterday, we went the second time to look leisurely at the Parliament Houses and to see again Westminster Abbey. The House of Lords is very elegant, though one of our friends insists it does not compare with our public buildings at Washington, and laments we have not seen Washington to know. Near Westminster Abbey we took a little steamboat for Greenwich, and visited there the Sailors' Hospital, and a very nice one it is. We saw Nelson's coat worn at the battle of Trafalgar, his waistcoat stained with blood, and the relics also which were found of the company of Sir John Franklin. We attended, on one day, a concert at the Crystal Palace at Sydenham. Madam Bosio seemed the favorite: her voice is pleasing and her manner very elegant. I think her personal appearance gave her favor. Sydenham is lovely. Paris cannot equal it. The fountains and flowers excel, and the evergreens from Norfolk Isle are the richest I have ever seen."

From the place of the crowd to that of the secluded is a natural transition, the latter, also, sought by a multitude, to observe and share the solace of the few.

Low Wood House,
Windermere. August 6th.

We left London on the 6th, and came here to see the beautiful English lakes—250 miles Northwest, in Westmoreland so celebrated for their beauty, and for being the residence of so many of the English Poets. The house and grave of Wordsworth are only a few rods from here, and the "Dove's Nest," for a time the residence of Mrs. Hemans, is the next house to us on the right. Yesterday we went about eighteen miles to see the house and grave of Robert Southey, situated on another of these lovely little lakes, and to-day we passed the houses of Miss Martineau and Dr. Arnold. Coleridge, too, lived a long time with his friend Southey, on the shores of Derwentwater, where we went yesterday. It is in the town of Keswick. I do not wonder that they wrote such poetry, for they had everything here to inspire them. Everywhere the eye turns it falls upon a beautiful picture, and you can ride but a few miles anywhere without coming upon a beautiful lake nestled in among the hills. Then there is such a softness to the English landscapes. You seldom see any bold, striking scenery but a perfect softness of outline and freshness of color. We went out this morning, and sat a long time under the trees on the shore of the lake, and speculated and wondered as to our friends at home so near Commencement, and then as to whether we should see our own favorite, Lake Dunmore, as pleasantly this season."

Edinburgh. August 12th.

"Last Monday, the 9th, we came to this city, and Tuesday we went to Jedrose and passed the night, in order to have Wednesday, Commencement day, for Abbotsford. Tuesday night we rode to Dryburgh Abbey, where Sir Walter Scott and his family are buried. The Abbey is a ruin as a whole, but some parts of it, St. Mary's aisle for instance, where the family of Sir Walter is buried, is in repair, or rather preserved from further decay. You cannot imagine what a lovely seclusion it is. Old trees grow over the grounds, shading here and there parts of the ruins, as though keeping watch around the sleeping dead, and a stillness prevails at twilight in harmony with the scene, but there was no gloom even in the gathering darkness, at least not to me, for I remembered it was his chosen place in which to take his last long slumber, and that Sir Walter wrote of it, after laying his beloved Charlotte in its bosom—'It is earth's lap of beauty,' and so indeed it is."

It is curious to observe the effect, in these passing comments, of the wand of literature. This directs the feeling and attention of the stranger, first, from one historical object to another; then in the traces of nature, in her bright or wayward moods, to the homes of Poets or their graves; or, more impressively, to the scenes in which the witchery of the fancy of the greatest of them, in his own phrase,

Gave to each rock the interest, high
That genius beams from beauty's eye.

Such is the influence obtained from books: even in a strange country, the attention is guided by its habit, while the heart, no doubt, remains true to itself.

Loch Katrine, August 12th.

We are sitting in a little room at McGregor's in the Highlands, travelling among these lovely lakes by ourselves, and fully intend to visit Dublin and the Lakes of Killarney. We arrived at Edinburgh, August 6th: have seen Doune Castle, Allan Water, Dunblane, Sterling Castle and Bannockburn: on Tuesday visited the abbeys Melrose and Dryburgh, both beautiful ruins; on Wednesday, Abbotsford, and returned to Edinburgh, where the graves of your friends are quietly resting. Mr. and Mrs. S-- we suppose are in Glasgow.

Loch Lomond

We visited Ellen's Isle. It is the loveliest spot I have seen. I long for you all here, more than ever before, to look upon the very places of which you have read.

Sabbath Morning, Aug. 15

We are safely in Glasgow—have just returned from church, and now I am sitting alone in our little parlor, at the Queen's Hotel. Mr. and Mrs. S-- we hear nothing of, neither have we letters, but we do not mind it. A few more days, and we shall meet our friends at Liverpool. Another short two weeks, and we hope to reach a spot dearer by far than all, this side the wide ocean. How will our hearts throb if we may reach the other shore and place our feet once more on our side of the water, if not quite our own free land. I grow tremulous as the time draws so near. How the summer has melted away, and the time that seemed so far distant when we landed at Havre is just before us.