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S.  G.  and  E.  L.  ELBERT 


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KATHARIKE  E.  COMAH 


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THE    AMEEICAN    FUGITIVE    IN    EUKOPE. 


SKETCHES 


OP 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD, 


BY 

WM.  WELLS    BROWN. 

WITH 

A  MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR 


Go,  little  book,  from  this  my  solitude  ! 

I  cast  thee  on  the  waters  —  go  thy  ways  ! 
And  if,  as  I  believe,  thy  vein  be  good. 

The  world  will  find  thee  after  many  days," 

SOUTHEY. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED  BY  JOHN  P.  JEWETT  AND   COMPANY. 

CLEVELAND,   OHIO: 

JEWETT,   PROCTOR   &   WORTHINGTON 

NEW    YORK: 

SHELDON,  LAMPORT   &   BLAKEMAN. 

1855. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 
JOIINP.JEWETT&CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


stereotyped  by 

HOIiART   &   ROBBINS, 

New  England  Type  and  Stereotype  Foundry, 

BOSTON. 


PREFACE 

TO     THE    ENGLISH     EDITION. 

While  I  feel  conscious  that  most  of  the  contents  of 
these  Letters  will  be  interesting  chiefly  to  American 
readers,  yet  I  may  indulge  the  hope  that  the  fact  of 
their  being  the  first  production  of  a  Fugitive  Slave  as 
a  history  of  travels  may  carry  with  them  novelty 
enough  to  secure  for  them,  to  some  extent,  the  atten- 
tion of  the  reading  public  of  Great  Britain.  Most  of 
the  letters  were  written  for  the  private  perusal  of  a  few 
personal  friends  in  America ;  some  were  contributed  to 
Frederick  Douglass^  Paper^  a  journal  published  in 
the  United  States.  In  a  printed  circular  sent  some 
weeks  since  to  some  of  my  friends,  asking  subscriptions 
to  this  volume,  I  stated  the  reasons  for  its  publication  : 
these  need  not  be  repeated  here.  To  those  who  so 
promptly  and  kindly  responded  to  that  appeal,  I  tender 
my  most  sincere  thanks.     It  is  with  no  little  diffidence 


IV  PKEFACE. 

that  I  lay  these  letters  before  the  public ;  for  I  am  not 
blind  to  the  fact  that  they  must  contain  many  errors ; 
and  to  those  who  shall  find  fault  with  them  on  that  ac- 
count, it  may  not  be  too  much  for  me  to  ask  them  kindly 
to  remember  that  the  author  was  a  slave  in  one  of  the 
Southern  States  of  America  until  he  had  attained  the 
age  of  twenty  years;  and  that  the  education  he  has 
acquired  was  by  his  own  exertions,  he  never  having  had 
a  day's  schooling  in  his  life. 

W.   WELLS  BROWN. 

22  Cecil  Street,  Strand, 
London. 


NOTE 

TO    THE    AMERICAN    EDITION 


During  my  sojourn  abroad  I  found  it  advantageous  to  my 
purse  to  publish  a  book  of  travels,  which  I  did  under  the  title  of 
*'  Three  Years  in  Europe,  or  Places!  have  seen  and  People  I  have 
met."  The  work  was  reviewed  by  the  ablest  journals  in  Great 
Britain,  and  from  their  favorable  criticisms  I  have  been  induced 
to  offer  it  to  the  American  public,  with  a  dozen  or  more  addi- 
tional chapters.  W.  W.  B. 

Boston,  November,  185-1. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Memoir  op  the  Author,    .,,,,,<,,,,,,,,,,.,,,,,,,.    9 

CHAPTER  I. 

Departure  from  Boston  —  The  Passengers  —  Halifax  —  The  Passage  —  Pirst  Sight  of 
Land  —  Liverpool, 85 

CHAPTER    II. 

Trip  to  Ireland  —  Dublin  —  Her  Majesty's  Visit — Illumination  of  the  City  —  The 
Birthplace  of  Thomas  Moore  —  A  Reception,  .   .    .............  42 

CHAPTER    III. 

Departure  from  Ireland  —  London  —  Trip  to  Paris  —  Paris  —  The  Peace  Congress-. 
First  Day  —  Church  of  the  Madeleine  —  Column  Vendome  —  The  Prench,  .   .  51 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Versailles  —  The  Palace  —  Second  Session  of  the  Congress  —  Mr.  Cobden  —  Henry 
Vincent  —  M.  Girardin  —  Abbe  Duguerry  —  Victor  Hugo  :  his  Speech,   ...  64 

CHAPTER    V.  , 

M.  de-Tocqueville's  Grand  Soiree  —  Madame  de  Tocqueville  —  Visit  of  the  Peace  Dele- 
gates to  Versailles  —  The  Breakfast  —  Speech-making  —  The  Trianons  —  Water- 
works—St. Cloud  — The  Fete,   ...   o   »,,.,,,,,.,..,...  73 

CHAPTER    VI. 

The  Tuileries  —  Place  de  la  Concorde  —  The  Egyptian  Obelisk  —  Palais  Royal  — 
Residence  of  Robespierre  —  A  Visit  to  the  Room  in  which  Charlotte  Corday  killed 
Marat  —  Church  de  Notre  Dame  —  Palais  de  Justice  —  Hotel  des  Inralides  — 

National  Assembly  —  The  Elysee,  .   .,,,... 80 

1# 


VI  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

The  Chateau  at  Versailles — Private  Apartments  of  Marie  Antoinette  —  The  Secret 
Door  —  Paintings  of  Raphael  and  David  — Arc  de  Triomphe  —  Beranger  the 
Poet, 91 

CHAPTBE,    VIII. 

Departure  from  Paris  —  Boulogne  —  Polkstone  —  London  —  George  Thompson,  Esq., 
M.P.  —  Hartwell  House  —  Dr.  Lee  —  Cottage  of  the  Peasant  —  Windsor  Castle 
—  Residence  of  William  Penn  —  England's  First  Welcome  —  Heath  Lodge  —The 
Bank  of  England, 98 

CHAPTEE    IX. 

The  British  Museum  —  A  Portrait  —  Night  Reading  —  A  Dark  Day  —  A  Fugitive 
Slave  on  the  Streets  of  London— A  Friend  in  the  Time  of  Need, 113 

CHAPTER    X. 

The  Whittington  Club  — Louis  Blanc  —  Street  Amusements  —  Tower  of  London  — 
Westminster  Abbey  —  National  Gallery  —  Dante  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  .    123 

CHAPTER    XI. 

York  Minster  —  The  Great  Organ  —  Newcastle-on-Tyne  —  The  Laboring  Classes' — 
The  American  Slave  —  Sheffield  —  James  Montgomery, 136 

CHAPTER    XII. 

Kirkstall  Abbey  —  Mary  the  Maid  of  the  Inn  —  Newstead  Abbey  :  Residence  of  Lord 
Byron  —  Parish  Church  of  Hucknall  —  Burial-place  of  Lord  Byron,   .   .   .    145 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

Bristol :  "  Cook's  Folly  "  —  Chepstow  Castle  and  Abbey  —  Tintern  Abbey  —  Redcliffe 
Church  —  Edinburgh  —  The  Royal  Institute — Scott's  Monument  —  John  Knox's 
Pulpit  —  Meetings  in  City  Hall,  Glasgow, 154 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

Stirling  —  Dundee  —  Dr.  Dick  —  George  GilfiUan,  the  Essayist — Dr.  Dick  at  home, 

167 
CHAPTER    XV. 

Melrose  Abbey  —  Abbotsford  —  Dryburgh  Abbey  —  The  Grave  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  — 
Hawick  —  Gretna  Green  —  Visit  to  the  Lakes, 173 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

Miss  Martineau  —  "  The  Knoll "  —  "  Rydal  Mount "  —  "  The  Dove's  Nest "  -—  Grave 
of  William  Wordsworth,  Esq.  — The  English  Peasant, 182 


CONTENTS.  VII 

CHAPTER    XVII. 
A  Day  in  the  Crystal  Palace  —  Thomas  Carlyle, , 193 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  London  Peace  Congress  —  Meeting  of  Fugitive  Slaves  —  Temperance  Demonstra- 
tion—  The  Great  Exhibition:  Last  Yisit, 202 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

Oxford  —  Martyrs'  Monument  —  Cost  of  the  Burning  of  the  Martyrs  —  The  Colleges 

—  Dr.  Pusey  —  Energy  the  Secret  of  Success, • 208 

CHAPTER    XX. 

Fugitive  Slaves  in  England  —  Great  Meeting  in  Hall  of  Commerce,  London,  .   .   .  215 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

Visit  to  Stratford  upon  Avon  —  Shakspeare's  Birth-place  —  His  Grave  —  George 
Dawson,  Esq., ,   , 223 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

Visit  to  Ludlow  —  The  Wet  Sheets  —  Landlady  in  a  Fix  —  Ludlow  Castle  —  Milton's 
Comus  —  Butler's  Hudibras  —  Visit  to  Hereford  —  Birth-places  of  Garrick,  Mrs. 
Siddons,  Nell  Gwynne, ,    ,    .   , 230 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

A,  Fashionable  Dinner  Party — Cowley,  the  Poet  —  Eesidence  of  Alexander  Pope  — 
His  Merits  as  a  Poet, 240 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

Birth-place  of  Robert  Burns  —  His  Monument  —  Tarn  O'Shanter  and  Souter  Johnny 

—  The  Shell  Palace  —  Newark  Castle  —  Highland  Mary, 247 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

The  Thames  Tunnel  —  Colosseum  —  Swiss  Cottage  —  Its  Mysteries  and  its  Beauties, 

254 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Visit  to  a  Burial-ground — Epitaph  on  the  Grave  of  a  Wife  —  A  Warning  to  the 
Fair  Sex, 259 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Scotland  —  Aberdeen  —  Passage  by  Water  —  Edinburgh  —  George  Combe,  .    .  262 


VIII  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

Joseph  Jenkins,  the  African  Genius  —  His  Street- sweeping  —  Bill-distributing  — 
Psalm-singing  —  Othello  —  And  his  Preaching, 268 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

Monument  to  Thomas  Hood  —  Eliza  Cook-   Murdo  Young  —  Milnes,  the  Poet,      276 

CHAPTER    XXX. 

A  Night  in  the  House  of  Commons  —  A  Bird's-eye  View  of  its  Members  —  Hastie, 
Layard,  Hume,  the  Father  of  the  House,  Edward  Miall,  W.  J.  Fox,  Macaulay, 
Richard  Cobden,  Gladstone  the  Orator,  Disraeli  the  Jew,  Lord  Dudley  Stuart, 
Lord  John  Russell  —  A  Debate  in  the  House  —  People  in  the  Gallery  —  Sir 
Edward  Bulwer  Lytton, 282 

CHAPTER    XXXI. 

Anniversary  of  West  India  Emancipation  —  Francis  W.  Kellogg  —  British  Hatred 
of  Oppression  —  A  Singular  Recognition  —  Lady  Noel  Byron  and  Ellen  Craft,  296 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Thoughts  on  leaving  for  America  —  Acquaintances  made  in  Great  Britain  —  John 
Bishop  Estlin  —  Departure  in  the  Steamer  "  City  of  Manchester  "  —  Peculiarities 
of  Passengers — Irish,  Germans,  and  Gypsies  —  Reception  at  Philadelphia  — 
Anti-Christian  Prejudices  there  —  Design  in  Returning  —  Reflections,   .   .   .303 


I^mair  0f  l\}j  ^utfjor. 


"  Shall  tongues  be  mute  when  deeds  are  wrought 
Which  well  might  shame  extremest  Hell  ? 
Shall  freemen  lack  the  indignant  thought  ? 
Shall  Mercy's  bosom  cease  to  sAvell  ? 
Shall  Honor  bleed  ?  —  shall  Truth  succumb  ? 
Shall  pen,  and  press,  and  soul  be  dumb? "  —  TVhittier, 

William  Wells  Beown,  the  subject  of  this  narra- 
tive, was  born  a  slave  in  Lexington,  Kentucky,  not  far 
from  the  residence  of  the  late  Hon.  Henry  Clay.  His 
mother  was  the  slave  of  Dr.  John  Young.  His  father 
was  a  slaveholder,  and,  besides  being  a  near  relation  of 
his  master,  was  connected  with  the  Wickliffe  family,  one 
of  the  oldest,  wealthiest,  and  most  aristocratic  of  the 
Kentucky  planters.  Dr.  Young  was  the  owner  of  forty 
or  fifty  slaves,  whose  chief  employment  was  in  cultivating 
tobacco,  hemp,  corn,  and  flax.  The  doctor  removed  from 
Lexington,  when  William  was  five  or  six  years  old,  to  the 
State  of  Missouri,  and  commenced  farming  in  a  beautiful 
and  fertile  valley,  within  a  mile  of  the  Missouri  river. 

Here  the  slaves  were  put  to  work  und^r  a  harsh  and 
cruel  overseer,  named  Cook.  A  finer  situation  for  a  farm 
could  not  have  been  selected  in  the  state.  With  climate 
favorable  to  agriculture,  and  soil  rich,  the  products  came 


10  MEMOIR    OF 

in  abundance.  At  an  early  age  William  was  separated 
from  his  mother,  she  being  worked  in  the  field,  and  he  as 
a  servant  in  his  master's  medical  department,  When 
about  ten  years  of  age,  the  young  slave's  feelings  were 
much  hurt  at  hearing  the  cries  of  his  mother  while  being 
flogged  by  the  negro-driver  for  being  a  few  minutes  behind 
the  other  hands  in  reaching  the  field.  He  heard  her  cry, 
^'  0,  pray  !  0,  pray  !  0,  pray  !  "  These  are  the  words 
which  slaves  generally  utter  when  imploring  mercy  at 
the  hands  of  their  oppressors.  The  son  heard  it,  though 
he  was  some  way  off.  He  heard  the  crack  of  the  whip, 
and  the  groans  of  his  poor  mother.  The  cold  chill  ran 
over  him,  and  he  wept  aloud ;  but  he  was  a  slave  like 
his  mother,  and  could  render  her  no  assistance.  He  was 
taught  by  the  most  bitter  experience,  that  nothing  could 
be  more  heart-rending  than  to  see  a  dear  and  beloved 
mother  or  sister  tortured  by  unfeeling  men,  and  to  hear 
her  cries,  and  not  to  be  able  to  render  the  least  aid. 
When  William  was  twelve  years  of  age,  his  master  left 
his  farm  and  took  up  his  residence  near  St.  Louis.  The 
doctor  having  more  hands  than  he  wanted  for  his  own 
use,  William  was  let  out  to  a  Mr.  Freeland,  an  innkeeper. 
Here  the  young  slave  found  himself  in  the  hands  of  a 
most  cruel  and  heartless  master.  Freeland  was  one  of 
the  real  chivalry  of  the  South  ;  besides  being  himself  a 
slaveholder,  he  was  a  horse-racer,  cock-fighter,  gambler, 
and,  to  crown  the  whole,  an  inveterate  drunkard.  What 
else  but  bad  treatment  could  be  expected  from  such  a 
character  ?  After  enduring  the  tyrannical  and  inhuman 
usage  of  this  man  for  five  or  six  months,  William  resolved 
to  stand  it  no  longer,  and  therefore  ran  away,  like  other 
slaves  who  leave  their  masters,  owing  to  severe  treatment ; 


THE    AUTIIOK.  11 

and  not  knowing  where  to  flee,  the  young  fugitive  went  into 
the  forest,  a  few  miles  from  St.  Louis.  He  had  been  in 
the  woods  but  a  short  time,  when  he  heard  the  barking 
and  howling  of  dogs,  and  was  soon  satisfied  that  he  was 
pursued  by  the  negro-dogs  :  and,  aware  of  their  ferocious 
nature,  the  fugitive  climbed  a  tree,  to  save  himself  from 
being  torn  to  pieces.  The  hounds  were  soon  at  the  trunk 
of  the  tree,  and  remained  there,  howling  and  barking, 
until  those  in  whose  charge  they  were  came  up.  The 
slave  was  ordered  dovfn,  tied,  and  taken  home.  Immedi- 
ately on  Ids  arrival  there,  he  was,  as  he  expected,  tied  up 
in  the  smoke-house,  and  whipped  till  Freeland  was  satis- 
fied, and  then  smoked  with  tobacco-stems.  This  the 
slaveholder  called  '^  Virginia  'playP  After  being  well 
whipped  and  smoked,  he  was  again  set  to  work.  William 
remained  with  this  monster  a  few  months  longer,  and  was 
then  let  out  to  Elijah  P.  Lovejoy,  who  years  after  be- 
came the  editor  of  an  abolition  newspaper,  and  was 
murdered  at  Alton,  Illinois,  by  a  mob  of  slaveholders 
from  the  adjoining  State  of  Missouri.  The  system  of 
letting  out  slaves  is  one  among  the  worst  of  the  evils  of 
slavery.  The  man  who  hires  a  slave  looks  upon  him  in 
the  same  light  as  does  the  man  who  hires  a  horse  for  a 
limited  period ;  he  feels  no  interest  in  him,  only  to  get 
the  worth  of  his  money.  Not  so  with  the  man  who  ovfns 
the  slave ;  he  regards  him  as  so  much  property,  of  which 
care  should  be  taken.  After  being  let  out  to  a  steamer 
as  an  under-steward,  William  was  hired  by  James  Walker, 
a  slave-trader.  Here  the  subject  of  our  memoir  was  ^ 
made  superintendent  of  the  gangs  of  slaves  that  were 
taken  to  the  New  Orleans  market.  In  this  capacity, 
William  had  opportunities,  far  greater  than  most  slaves, 


12  MEMOIR   OF 

of  acquiring  knowledge  of  the  different  phases  of  the 
'-^peculiar  institution.'^''  Walker  was  a  negro  specu- 
lator,  who  was  amassing  a  fortune  by  trading  in  the  bones, 
blood  and  nerves,  of  God's  children.  The  thought  of 
such  a  traffic  cause3  us  to  exclaim  with  the  poet, 

*' Is  tliere  not  some  chosen  curse, 


Some  hidden  thunder  in  the  stores  of  heaven. 
Red  with  uncommon  wrath,  to  blast  the  man 
Who  gains  his  fortune  from  the  blood  of  souls  ?  " 

Between  fifty  and  sixty  slaves  were  chained  together, 
put  on  board  a  steamboat  bound  for  New  Orleans,  and 
started  on  the  voyage.  New  and  strange  scenes  began 
to  inspire  the  young  slave  with  the  hope  of  escaping  to  a 
land  of  freedom.  There  was  in  the  boat  a  large  room  on 
the  lower  deck  in  which  the  slaves  were  kept,  men  and 
w^omen  promiscuously,  all  chained  two  and  two  together, 
not  even  leaving  the  poor  slaves  the  privilege  of  choosing 
their  partners.  A  strict  watch  was  kept  over  them,  so 
that  they  had  no  chance  of  escape.  Cases  had  occurred 
in  which  slaves  had  got  off  their  chains  and  made  their 
escape  at  the  landing-places,  while  the  boat  stopped  to 
take  in  w^ood.  But,  with  all  their  care,  they  lost  one 
woman  who  had  been  taken  from  her  husband  and  chil- 
dren, and,  having  no  desire  to  live  without  them,  in  the 
agony  of  her  soul  jumped  overboard  and  drowned  herself 
Her  sorrows  were  greater  than  she  could  bear ;  slavery 
and  its  cruel  inflictions  had  broken  her  heart.  She,  like 
William,  sighed  for  freedom,  but  not  the  freedom  which 
even  British  soil  confers  and  inspires,  but  freedom  from 
torturing  pangs,  and  overwhelming  grief. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  they  arrived  at  New  Orleans, 
the  place  of  their  destination.     Here  the  slaves  were 


THE   AUTHOB.  18 

placed  in  a  negro-pen,  where  those  who  wished  to  pur- 
chase could  call  and  examine  them.  The  negro-pen  is  a 
small  yard  surrounded  by  buildings,  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  feet  wide,  with  the  exception  of  a  large  gate  with 
iron  bars.  The  slaves  are  kept  in  the  buildings  during 
the  night,  and  turned  into  the  pen  during  the  day.  After 
the  best  of  the  gang  were  sold  off,  the  balance  was  taken 
to  the  Exchange  Coffee-house  auction-rooms,  and  sold  at 
public  auction.  After  the  sale  of  the  last  slave,  William 
and  Mr.  Walker  left  New  Orleans  for  St.  Louis. 

After  they  had  been  at  St.  Louis  a  few  weeks,  another 
cargo  of  human  flesh  was  made  up.  There  were  amongst 
the  lot  several  old  men  and  women,  some  of  whom  had 
gray  locks.  On  their  way  down  to  New  Orleans  William 
had  to  prepare  the  old  slaves  for  market.  He  was 
ordered  to  shave  off  the  old  men's  whiskers,  and  to  pluck 
out  the  gray  hairs  where  they  were  not  too  numerous ; 
where  they  were,  he  colored  them  mth.  a  preparation  of 
blacking  with  a  blacking-brush.  After  having  gone 
through  the  blacking  process,  they  looked  ten  or  fifteen 
years  younger.  William,  though  not  well  skilled  in  the 
use  of  scissors  and  razor,  performed  the  office  of  the  bar- 
ber tolerably.  After  the  sale  of  this  gang  of  negroes 
they  returned  to  St.  Louis,  and  a  second  cargo  was  made 
up.  In  this  lot  was  a  woman  who  had  a  child  at  the 
breast,  yet  was  compelled  to  travel  through  the  interior 
of  the  country  on  foot  with  the  other  slaves.  In  a  pub- 
lished m^emoir  of  his  life,  William  says,  ''The  child  cried 
during  the  most  of  the  day,  which  displeased  Mr.  Walker, 
and  he  told  the  mother  that  if  her  child  did  not  stop  cry- 
ing he  would  stop  its  mouth.  After  a  long  and  weary 
journey  under  a  burning  sun,  we  put  up  for  the  night 
2 


14  MEMOIIi    OF 

at  a  country  inn.  The  following  morning,  just  as  they 
were  about  to  start,  the  child  again  commenced  crying. 
Walker  stepped  up  to  her,  and  told  her  to  give  the  child 
to  him.  The  mother  tremblingly  obeyed.  He  took  the 
child  by  one  arm,  as  any  one  would  a  cat  by  the  leg, 
and  walked  into  the  house  where  they  had  been  staying, 
and  said  to  the  lady,  ^  Madam,  I  will  make  you  a  present 
of  this  little  nigger ;  it  keeps  making  such  a  noise  that  I 
can't  bear  it.'  '  Thank  you,  sir,'  said  the  lady.  The 
mother,  as  soon  as  she  saw  that  the  child  was  to  be  left, 
ran  up  to  Mr.  Walker,  and,  falling  on  her  knees,  begged 
of  him,  in  an  agony  of  despair,  to  let  her  have  her  child. 
She  clung  round  his  legs  so  closely  that  for  som^e  time 
he  could  not  kick  her  off;  and  she  cried,  ^  0  my  child, 
my  child  !  Master,  do  let  me  have  my  dear,  dear  child ! 
0  !  do,  do  !  I  will  stop  its  crying,  and  love  you  forever, 
if  you  will  only  let  me  have  my  child  again.'  But  her 
prayers  were  not  heeded ;  they  passed  on,  and  the  mother 
was  separated  from  her  child  forever. 

'^  After  the  woman's  child  had  been  given  away,  Mr. 
Walker  rudely  commanded  her  to  retire  into  the  ranks 
with  the  other  slaves.  Women  who  had  children  were 
not  chained,  but  those  who  had  none  were.  As  soon  as 
her  child  was  taken  she  vfas  chained  to  the  gang." 

Nothing  was  more  grievous  to  the  sensitive  feelings 
of  William  than  seeing  the  separation  of  families  by  the 
slave-trader  :  husbands  taken  from  their  wives,  and 
mothers  from  their  children,  without  the  least  appear- 
ance of  feeling  on  the  part  of  those  w^ho  separated  them. 
While  at  New  Orleans,  on  one  occasion,  William  saw  a 
slave  murdered.  The  circumstances  were  as  follows  : 
In  the  evening,  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock,  a  slave 


THE   AUTHOH.  15 

came  running  down  the  levee,  followed  by  several  men 
and  boys.  The  whites  were  crying  out,  ''  Stop  that  nig- 
ger !  stop  that  nigger ! ''  w^hile  the  poor  panting  slave, 
in  almost  breathless  accents,  was  repeating,  ' '  I  did  not 
steal  the  meat  —  I  did  not  steal  the  meat ! ''  The  poor 
man  at  last  took  refuge  in  the  river.  The  whites  who 
were  in  pursuit  of  him  ran  on  board  of  one  of  the  boats  to 
see  if  they  could  discover  him.  They  finally  espied  him 
under  the  bow  of  the  steamboat  ^'Trenton."  They  got 
a  pike-pole,  and  tried  to  drive  him  from  his  hiding-place. 
When  they  struck  at  him  he  would  dive  under  the  water. 
The  water  was  so  cold  that  it  soon  became  evident  'that 
he  must  come  out  or  be  drowned. 

While  they  were  trying  to  drive  him  from  under  the 
boat  or  drown  him,  he,  in  broken  and  imploring  accents, 
said,  ^^I  did  not  steal  the  meat !  /I  did  not  steal  the  meat! 
My  master  lives  up  the  river.  I  want  to  see  my  master. 
I  did  not  steal  the  meat !  Do  let  me  go  home  to  master ! " 
After  punching  and  striking  him  x)ver  the  head  for  some 
time,  he  at  last  sunk  in  the  water,  to  rise  no  more  alive. 

On  the  end  of  the  pike-pole  with  which  they  had  been 
striking  him  was  a  hook,  which  caught  in  his  clothing, 
and  they  hauled  him  up  on  the  bow  of  the  boat.  Some 
said  he  was  dead;  others  said  he  was  ^' playing 'pos- 
sum;'^ w^hile  others  kicked  him  to  make  him  get  up  ;  but 
it  was  of  no  use  —  he  was  dead. 

As  soon  as  they  became  satisfied  of  this,  they  com- 
menced leaving,  one  after  another.  One  of  the  hands 
on  the  boat  informed  the  captain  that  they  had  killed  the 
man,  and  that  the  dead  body  w^as  lying  on  the  deck. 
The  captain,  whose  name  was  Hart,  came  on  deck,  and 
said  to  those  who  were  remaining,  "  You  have  killed  this 


16  MEMOIR   OE 

nigger ;  now  take  him  off  my  boat."  The  dead  body  was 
dragged  on  shore  and  left  there.  William  went  on  board 
of  the  boat  where  the  gang  of  slaves  were,  and  during 
the  whole  night  his  mind  was  occupied  with  what  he  had 
seen.  Early  in  the  morning  he  went  on  shore  to  see  if 
the  dead  body  remained  there.  He  found  it  in  the 
same  position  that  it  was  left  the  night  before.  He 
watched  to  see  what  they  would  do  with  it.  It  was  left 
there  until  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock,  when  a  cart, 
which  took  up  the  trash  from  the  streets,  came  along, 
and  the  body  was  thrown  in,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more 
was  covered  over  with  dirt,  which  they  were  removing 
from  the  streets. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  period  of  his  hiring  with 
Walker,  William  returned  to  his  master,  rejoiced  to  have 
escaped  an  employment  as  much  against  his  own  feelings 
as  it  was  repugnant  to  human  nature.  But  this  joy  was 
of  short  duration.  The  doctor  wanted  money,  and 
resolved  to  sell  William's  sister  and  two  brothers.  The 
mother  had  been  previously  sold  to  a  gentleman  residing 
in  the  city  of  St.  Louis.  William's  master  now  informed 
him  that  he  intended  to  sell  him,  and,  as  he  was  his  own 
nephew,  he  gave  him  the  privilege  of  finding  some  one  to 
purchase  him,  who  would  treat  him  better  than  if  he 
was  sold  on  the  auction-block.  William  tried  to  make 
some  arrangement  by  which  he  could  purchase  his  own 
freedom,  but  the  old  doctor  would  hear  nothing  of  the 
kind.  If  there  is  one  thing  more  revolting  in  the  trade 
of  human  flesh  than  another,  it  is  the  selling  of  one's 
own  blood  relations. 

He  accordingly  set  out  for  the  city  in  search  of  a  new 
master.     When  he  arrived  there,  he  proceeded  to  the 


THE   AUTHOR.  17 

jail  with  the  hope  of  seeing  his  sister,  but  was  again 
disappointed.  On  the  following  morning  he  made  another 
attempt,  and  was  allowed  to  see  her  once,  for  the  last 
time.  When  he  entered  the  room  where  she  was  seated 
in  one  corner,  alone  and  disconsolate,  there  were  four 
other  women  in  the  room,  belonging  to  the  same  man, 
who  were  bought,  the  jailer  said,  for  the  master's  own 
use. 

William's  sister  was  seated  with  her  face  towards  the 
door  when  he  entered,  but  her  gaze  was  transfixed  on 
nothingness,  and  she  did  not  look  up  when  he  walked  up 
to  her ;  but  as  soon  as  she  observed  him  she  sprang  up, 
threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  leaned  her  head  upon 
his  breast,  and,  without  uttering  a  word,  in  silent,  inde- 
scribable sorrow,  burst  into  tears.  She  remained  so  for 
some  minutes,  but  when  she  recovered  herself  sufficiently 
to  speak  she  urged  him  to  take  his  mother  immediately, 
and  try  to  get  to  the  land  of  freedom.  She  said  there 
was  no  hope  for  herself;  she  must  live  and  die  a  slave. 
After  giving  her  some  advice,  and  taking  a  ring  from  his 
finger,  he  bade  her  farewell  forever.  Eeader,  did  ever  a 
fair  sister  of  thine  go  down  to  the  grave  prematurely  ? 
If  so,  perchance  thou  hast  drank  deeply  from  the  cup  of 
sorrow.  But  how  infinitely  better  is  it  for  a  sister  to 
'•go  into  the  silent  land"  with  her  honor  untarnished, 
but  with  bright  hopes,  than  for  her  to  be  sold  to  sensual 
slaveholders  ! 

William  had  been  in  the  city  now  two  days,  and,  as 
he  was  to  be  absent  for  only  a  week,  it  was  well  that  he 
should  make  the  best  use  of  his  time,  if  he  intended  to 
escape.  In  conversing  with  his  mother,  he  found  her 
unwilling  to  make  the  attempt  to  reach  the  land  of  lib- 
2=^ 


18  MEMOIR   OE 

erty,  but  she  advised  him  by  all  means  to  get  there 
himself,  if  he  possibly  could.  She  said,  as  all  her  chil- 
dren were  in  slavery,  she  did  not  wish  to  leave  them ; 
but  he  loved  his  mother  so  intensely,  that  he  could  not 
think  of  leaving  without  her.  He  consequently  used  all 
his  simple  eloquence  to  induce  her  to  fly  with  him,  and,  at 
last,  he  prevailed.  They  consequently  fixed  upon  the  next 
night  as  the  time  for  their  departure.  The  time  at  length 
arrived,  and  they  left  the  city  just  as  the  clock  struck 
nine.  Having  found  a  boat,  they  crossed  the  river  in  it. 
Whose  boat  it  was  he  did  not  know ;  neither  did  he  care. 
When  it  had  served  his  purpose,  he  turned  it  adrift,  and 
when  he  saw  it  last  it  was  going  at  a  good  speed  down 
the  river.  After  walking  in  the  main  road  as  fast  as 
they  could  all  night,  when  the  morning  came  they  made 
for  the  woods,  and  remained  there  during  the  day;  but 
w^hen  night  came  again,  they  proceeded  on  their  journey, 
with  nothing  but  the  North  Star  to  guide  them.  They 
continued  to  travel  by  night,  and  to  bury  themselves  in 
the  silent  solitudes  of  the  forest  by  day.  Hunger  and 
fatigue  could  not  stop  them,  for  the  prospect  of  freedom 
at  the  end  of  the  journey  nerved  them  up.  The  very 
thought  of  leaving  slavery,  with  its  democratic  whips, 
republican  chains,  and  bloodhounds,  caused  the  hearts  of 
the  weary  fugitives  to  leap  w^ith  joy.  After  travelling  ten 
nights,  and  hiding  in  the  woods  during  the  day  for  fear  of 
being  arrested  and  taken  back,  they  thought  they  might 
w  ith  safety  go  the  rest  of  their  way  by  daylight.  In  nearly 
all  the  free  states  there  are  men  who  make  a  business  of 
catching  runaway  slaves  and  returning  them  to  their 
owners  for  the  reward  that  may  be  offered  ;  some  of  those 
were  on  the  alert  for  William  and  his  mother,  for  they 


THE    AUTHOR.  19 

had  already  seen  the  runaways  advertised  in  the  St.  Louis 
newspapers. 

All  at  once  they  heard  the  click  of  a  horse's  hoof,  and 
looking  back  saw  three  men  on  horseback  galloping  tow- 
ards them.  They  soon  came  up,  and  demanded  them 
to  stop.  The  three  men  dismounted,  arrested  them  on  a 
warrant,  and  showed  them  a  handbill,  offering  two  hun- 
dred dollars  for  their  apprehension  and  delivery  to  Dr. 
Young  and  Isaac  Mansfield,  in  St.  Louis. 

While  they  were  reading  the  handbill,  William's  mother 
looked  him  in  the  face  and  burst  into  tears.  ^^A  cold 
chill  ran  over  me,"  savs  he,  ^'  and  such  a  sensation  I 
never  experienced  before,  and  I  trust  I  never  shall 
ogain."  They  took  out  a  rope  and  tied  him,  and  they 
were  taken  back  to  the  house  of  the  individual  who 
appeared  to  be  the  leader.  They  then  had  something 
given  them  to  eat,  and  were  separated.  Each  of  them 
was  watched  over  by  two  men  during  the  night.  The 
religious  characteristic  of  the  American  slaveholder  soon 
manifested  itself,  as,  before  the  family  retired  to  rest, 
they  were  all  called  together  to  attend  prayers ;  and  the 
very  man  who,  but  a  few  hours  before,  had  arrested  poor, 
panting,  fugitive  slaves,  now  read  a  chapter  from  the 
Bible,  and  offered  a  prayer  to  God ;  as  if  that  benignant 
and  omnipotent  One  consecrated  the  infernal  act  he  had 
just  committed. 

The  next  morning  they  were  chained  and  handcuffed, 
and  started  back  to  St.  Louis.  A  journey  of  three  days 
brought  the  fugitives  again  to  the  place  they  had  left 
twelve  days  previously,  with  the  hope  that  they  would 
never  return.  They  were  put  in  prison  to  await  the 
orders  of  their  owners.     When  a  slave  attempts  to  escape 


20  MEMOIR   OF 

and  failSj  he  feels  sure  of  either  being  severely  punished, 
or  sold  to  the  negro-traders  and  taken  to  the  far  south, 
there  to  be  worked  up  on  a  cotton,  sugar  or  rice  planta- 
tion. This  William  and  his  mother  dreaded.  While 
they  were  in  suspense  as  to  what  would  be  their  fate, 
news  came  to  them  that  the  mother  had  been  sold  to  a 
slave-speculator.  William  was  soon  sold  to  a  merchant 
residing  in  the  city,  and  removed  to  his  new  owner's 
dwelling.  In  a  few  days  the  gang  of  slaves,  of  which 
William's  mother  was  one,  were  taken  on  board  a  steamer, 
to  be  carried  to  the  New  Orleans  market.  The  young 
slave  obtained  permission  from  his  new  owner  to  go  and 
take  a  last  farewell  of  his  mother.  He  went  to  the  boat, 
and  found  her  there,  chained  to  another  woman,  and  the 
whole  number  of  slaves,  amounting  to  some  fifty  or  sixty, 
chained  in  the  same  manner.  As  the  son  approached  his 
mother  she  moved  not,  neither  did  she  weep ;  her  emo- 
tions were  too  deep  for  tears.  William  approached  her, 
threw  his  arms  around  her  neck,  kissed  her,  fell  upon 
his  knees  begging  her  forgiveness,  for  he  thought  he  was 
to  blame  for  her  sad  condition,  and  if  he  had  not  per- 
suaded her  to  accompany  him  she  might  not  have  been 
in  chains  then. 

She  remained  for  some  time  apparently  unimpression- 
able, tearless,  sighless,  but  in  the  innermost  depths  of  her 
heart  moved  mighty  passions.  William  says,  ''  She 
finally  raised  her  head,  looked  me  in  the  face, — and  such 
a  look  none  but  an  angel  can  give ! — and  said,  '  My  dear 
son,  you  are  not  to  blame  for  my  being  here.  You  have 
done  nothing  more  nor  less  than  your  duty.  Do  not,  I 
pray  you,  weep  for  me ;  I  cannot  last  long  upon  a  cotton 
plantation.     I  feel  that  my  heavenly  Master  will  soon 


THE   AUTHOR.  21 

call  me  home,  and  then  I  shall  be  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  slaveholders.'  I  could  hear  no  more;  my  heart 
struggled  to  free  itself  from  the  human  form.  In  a  mo- 
ment she  saw  Mr.  Mansfield,  her  master,  coming  toward 
that  part  of  the  boat,  and  she  whispered  in  my  ear,  '  My 
child,  we  must  soon  part  to  meet  no  more  on  this  side 
of  the  grave.  You  have  ever  said  that  you  would  not 
die  a  slave ;  that  you  would  be  a  freeman.  Now  try  to 
get  your  liberty !  You  will  soon  have  no  one  to  look 
after  but  yourself ! '  and  just  as  she  whispered  the  last 
sentence  into  my  ear,  Mansfield  came  up  to  me,  and, 
with  an  oath,  said,  '  Leave  here  this  instant !  you  have 
been  the  means  of  my  losing  one  hundred  dollars  to  get 
this  wench  back,'  at  the  same  time  kicking  me  with  a 
heavy  pair  of  boots.  As  I  left  her  she  gave  one  shriek, 
saying,  ^  God  be  with  you  ! '  It  was  the  last  time  that  I 
saw  her,  and  the  last  word  I  heard  her  utter. 

^^  I  walked  on  shore.  The  bell  was  tolling.  The  boat 
was  about  to  start.  I  stood  with  a  heavy  heart,  waiting 
to  see  her  leave  the  wharf.  As  I  thought  of  my  mother, 
I  could  but  feel  that  I  had  lost 

•  The  glory  of  my  life, 

My  blessing  and  my  pride  ! 
I  half  forgot  the  name  of  slave 
When  she  was  by  my  side.' 

^^The  love  of  liberty  that  had  been  burning  in  my 
bosom  had  well-nigh  gone  out.  I  felt  as  though  I  was 
ready  to  die.  The  boat  moved  gently  from  the  wharf, 
and  while  she  glided  down  the  river  I  realized  that  my 
mother  was  indeed 

*  Gone  —  gone  —  sold  and  gone 

To  the  rice-swamp,  dank  and  lone.' 


22  MEMOIR    OF 

''After  the  boat  was  out  of  sight  I  returned  home; 
but  my  thoughts  were  so  absorbed  in  what  I  had  wit- 
nessed that  I  knew  not  what  I  was  about.  Night  came, 
but  it  brought  no  sleep  to  my  eyes."  When  once  the 
love  of  freedom  is  born  in  the  slave's  mind,  it  always 
increases  and  brightens ;  and  William  having  heard  so 
much  about  Canada,  where  a  number  of  his  acquaintances 
had  found  a  refuge  and  a  home,  he  heartily  desired  to 
join  them.  Building  castles  in  the  air  in  the  day-time, 
incessantly  thinking  of  freedom,  he  would  dream  of  the 
land  of  liberty,  but  on  waking  in  the  morning  would  weep 

to  find  it  but  a  dream. 

• 
"  He  would  dream  of  Victoria's  domain. 

And  in  a  moment  lie  seemed  to  Ibe  there  ; 
But  the  fear  of  being  taken  again 
Soon  hurried  him  back  to  despair." 

Having  been  for  some  time  employed  as  a  servant  in 
a  hotel,  and  being  of  a  very  active  turn,  William's  new 
owner  resolved  to  let  him  out  on  board  a  steamboat. 
Consequently  the  young  slave  was  hired  out  to  the 
steamer  St.  Louis,  and  soon  after  sold  to  Captain  Enoch 
Price,  the  owner  of  that  boat.  Here  he  was  destined  to 
remain  but  a  short  period,  as  Mrs.  Price  wanted  a  car- 
riage-driver, and  had  set  her  heart  upon  William  for  that 
purpose. 

Scarcely  three  months  had  elapsed  from  the  time  that 
William  became  the  property  of  Captain  Price,  ere  that 
gentleman's  family  took  a  pleasure-trip  to  New  Orleans, 
and  Vf  illiam  accompanied  them.  From  New  Orleans  the 
family  proceeded  to  Louisville.  The  hope  of  escape 
again  dawned  upon  the  slave's  mind,  and  the  trials  of 


THE    AUTHOR.  23 

the  past  were  lost  in  hopes  for  the  future.  The  love  of 
liberty,  which  had  been  burning  in  his  bosom  for  years, 
and  which,  at  times,  had  been  well-nigh  extinguished, 
was  now  resuscitated.  Hopes  nurtured  in  childhood,  and 
strengthened  as  manhood  dawned,  now  spread  their  sails 
to   the  gales  of  his  imagination.     At  night,   when  all 

'around  was  peaceful,  and  in  the  mystic  presence  of  the 
everlasting  starlight,  he  would  walk  the  steamer's  decks, 
meditating  on  his  happy  prospects,  and  summoning  up 
gloomy  reminiscences  of  the  dear  hearts  he  was  leaying 
behind  him.  When  not  thinking  of  the  future  his  mind 
Avould  dwell  on  the  past.  The  love  of  a  dear  mother,  a 
dear  and  affectionate  sister,  and  three  brothers  yet  living, 
caused  him  to  shed  many  tears.  If  he  could  only  be 
assured  of  their  being  dead,  he  would  have  been  compar- 
atively happy;  but  he  saw,  in  imagination,  his  mother 
in  the  cotton-field,  followed  by  a  monster  task-master, 
and  no  one  to  speak  a  consoling  word  to  her.  _.  He  beheld 
his  sister  in  the  hands  of  the  slave-driver,  compelled  to 
submit  to  his  cruelty,  or,  what  was  unutterably  worse, 
his  lust ;  but  still  he  was  far  away  from  them,  and  could 

■  not  do  anything  for  them  if  he  remained  in  slavery ; 
consequently  he  resolved,  and  consecrated  the  resolve  with 
a  prayer,  that  he  would  start  on  the  first  opportunity. 

That  opportunity  soon  presented  itself  When  the 
boat  got  to  the  wharf  where  it  had  to  stay  for  some  time, 
at  the  first  convenient  moment  William  made  towards  the 
woods,  where  he  remained  until  night-time.  He  dared 
not  walk  during  the  day,  even  in  the  State  of  Ohio,  he 
had  seen  so  much  of  the  perfidy  of  white  men,  and 
resolved,  if  possible,  not  to  get  into  their  hands.  After 
darkness  covered  the  world,  he  emerged  from  his  hiding- 


24  MEMOIR   OF 

place  ;  but  he  did  not  know  east  from  west,  or  north  from 
south ;  clouds  hid  the  North  Star  from  his  view.  In 
this  desolate  condition  he  remained  for  some  hours,  when 
the  clouds  rolled  away,  and  his  friend,  with  its  shining 
face, —  the  North  Star, —  welcomed  his  sight.  True  as 
the  needle  to  the  pole,  he  obeyed  its  attractive  beauty,  and 
walked  on  till  daylight  dawned. 

It  was  winter-time ;  the  day  on  which  he  started  was 
the  first  of  January,  and,  as  it  might  be  expected,  it  was 
intensely  cold ;  he  had  no  overcoat,  no  food,  no  friend, 
save  the  North  Star,  and  the  God  which  made  it.  How 
ardently  must  the  love  of  freedom  burn  in  the  poor 
slave's  bosom,  when  he  will  pass  through  so  many  difli- 
culties,  and  even  look  death  in  the  face,  in  winning  his 
birthright  freedom  !  But  what  crushed  the  poor  slave's 
heart  in  his  flight  most  was,  not  the  want  of  food  or 
clothing,  but  the  thought  that  every  white  man  was  his 
deadly  enemy.  Even  in  the  free  States  the  prejudice 
against  color  is  so  strong,  that  there  appears  to  exist  a 
deadly  antagonism  between  the  white  and  colored  races. 

William  in  his  flight  carried  a  tinder-box  with  him, 
and  when  he  got  very  cold  he  would  gather  together  dry 
leaves  and  stubble  and  make  a  fire,  or  certainly  he  would 
have  perished.  He  was  determined  to  enter  into  no 
house,  fearing  that  he  might  meet  a  betrayer. 

It  must  have  been  a  picture  which  would  have  inspired 
an  artist,  to  see  the  fugitive  roasting  the  ears  of  corn  that 
he  found  or  took  from  barns  during  the  night,  at  solitary 
fires  in  the  deep  solitudes  of  woods. 

The  sufiering  of  the  fugitive  was  greatly  increased  by 
the  cold,  from  the  fact  of  his  having  just  come  from  the 
warm  climate  of  New  Orleans.    Slaves  seldom  have  more 


THE   AUTHOR.  25 

than  one  name,  and  William  was  not  an  exception  to  this, 
and  the  fugitive  began  to  think  of  an  additional  name. 
^ A  heavy  rain  of  three  days,  in  which  it  froze  as  fast  as  it 
fell,  and  by  which  the  poor  fugitive  was  completely 
drenched,  and  still  more  chilled,  added  to  the  depression 
of  his  spirits  already  created  by  his  weary  journey. 
Nothing  but  the  fire  of  hope  burning  within  his  breast 
could  have  sustained  him  under  such  overwhelming  trials. 

*'  Behind  he  left  the  whip  and  chains  ; 
Before  him  were  sweet  Freedom's  plains. " 

Through  cold  and  hunger,  William  was  now  ill,  and 
he  could  go  no  further.  The  poor  fugitive  resolved  to 
seek  protection,  and  accordingly  hid  himself  in  the  woods 
near  the  road,  until  some  one  should  pass.  ^,oon  a  trav- 
eller came  along,  but  the  slave  dared  not  speak.  A  few 
moments  more  and  a  second  passed ;  the  fugitive  at- 
tempted to  speak,  but  fear  deprived  him  of  voice.  A 
third  made  his  appearance.  He  wore  a  broad-brimmed 
hat  and  a  long  coat,  and  was  evidently  walking  only  for 
exercise.  WilHam  scanned  him  well,  and,  though  not 
much  skilled  in  physiognomy,  he  concluded  he  was  the 
man.  William  approached  him,  and  asked  him  if  he 
knew  any  one  who  would  help  him,  as  he  was  sick.  The 
gentleman  asked  whether  he  was  not  a  slave.  The  poor 
slave  hesitated ;  but,  on  being  told  that  he  had  nothing 
to  fear,  he  answered  ''Yes.''  The  gentleman  told  him 
he  was  in  a  pro-slavery  neighborhood,  but,  if  he  would 
wait  a  little,  he  would  go  and  get  a  covered  wagon,  and 
convey  him  to  his  house.  After  he  had  gone,  the  fugi- 
tive meditated  whether  ^he  should  stay  or  not,  being 
apprehensive  that  the  broad-brimmed  gentleman  had 
8 


26  MEMOIR   OF 

gone  for  some  one  to  assist  him :  he  however  concluded 
to  remain. 

After  waiting  about  an  hour  —  an  hour  big  with  fate 
to  him  —  he  saw  the  covered- wagon  making  its  appear- 
ance, and  no  one  in  it  but  the  person  he  before  accosted. 
Trembling  with  hope  and  fear,  he  entered  the  wagon, 
and  vras  carried  to  the  person's  house.  When  he  got 
there,  he  still  halted  between  two  opinions,  whether  he 
should  enter  or  take  to  his  heels ;  but  he  soon  decided, 
after  seeing  the  glowing  face  of  the  wife.  He  saw  some- 
thing in  her  that  bid  him  welcome,  something  that  told 
him  he  would  not  be  betrayed. 

He  soon  found  that  he  was  under  the  shed  of  a  Quaker, 
and  a  Quaker  of  the  George  Fox  stamp.  He  had  heard 
of  Quak^l^and  their  kindness  ;  but  was  not  prepared  to 
meet  with  such  hospitality  as  now  greeted  him.  He  saw 
nothing  but  kind  looks,  and  heard  nothing  but  tender 
words.  He  began  to  feel  the  pulsations  of  a  new  exist- 
ence. White  men  always  scorned  him,  but  now  a  white 
benevolent  woman  felt  glad  to  wait  on  him ;  it  was  a  rev- 
olution in  his  experience.  The  table  was  loaded  with 
good  things,  but  he  could  not  eat.  If  he  were  allowed 
the  privilege  of  sitting  in  the  kitchen,  he  thought  he 
could  do  justice  to  the  viands.  The  surprise  being  over, 
his  appetite  soon  returned. 

^'  I  have  frequently  been  asked,"  says  William,  •'  how 
I  felt  upon  finding  myself  regarded  as  a  man  by  a  white 
family ;  especially  having  just  run  away  from  one.  I 
cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  answered  the  question  yet. 
The  fact  that  I  was,  in  all  probaHllity,  a  freeman, 
sounded  in  my  ears  like  a  charm.  I  am  satisfied  that  ^ 
none  but  a  slave  could  place  such  an  appreciation  upon 


THE   AUTHOR.  27 

liberty  as  I  did  at  that  time.  I  wanted  to  see  my  mother 
and  sister,  that  I  might  tell  them  that  '  I  was  free  ! '  I 
wanted  to  see  my  fellow-slaves  in  St.  Louis,  and  let  them 
know  that  the  chains  were  no  longer  upon  my  limbs.  I 
wanted  to  see  Captain  Price,  and  let  him  learn  from  my 
own  lips  that  I  was  no  more  a  chattel,  but  a  man.  I 
was  anxious,  too,  thus  to  inform  Mrs.  Price  that  she 
must  get  another  coachman,  and  I  wanted  to  see  Eliza 
more  than  I  did  Mr.  Price  or  Mrs.  Price.  The  fact  that 
I  was  a  freeman — could  walk,  talk,  eat,  and  sleep  as  a 
man,  and  no  one  to  stand  over  me  w^ith  the  blood-clotted 
cow-hide  —  all  this  made  me  feel  that  I  was  not  myself." 

The  kind  Quaker,  who  so  hospitably  entertained  Wil- 
liam, was  called  Wells  Brown.  He  remained  with  him 
about  a  fortnight,  during  which  time  he  was  #ell  fed  and 
clothed.  Before  leaving,  the  Quaker  asked  him  what  was 
his  name  besides  William.  The  fugitive  told  him  he  had 
no  other.  ^'Well,"  said  he,  ^Hhee  must  have  another 
name.  Since  thee  has  got  out  of  slavery,  thee  has  be- 
come a  man,  and  men  always  have  two  names." 

William  told  him  that  as  he  w^as  the  first  man  to  ex- 
tend the  hand  of  friendship  to  him,  he  would  give  him  the 
privilege  of  naming  him. 

''If  I  name  thee,"  said  he,  ''I  shall  call  thee  Wells 
Brown,  like  myself" 

''But,"  said  he,  "  I  am  not  willing  to  lose  my  name 
of  William.  It  was  taken  from  me  once  against  my  will, 
and  I  am  not  willing  to  part  with  it  on  any  terms." 

"  Then,''  said  the  benevolent  man,  "I  will  call  thee 
William  Wells  Brown." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  William  Wells  Brown,  and  he  has 
been  known  by  this  name  ever  since. 


28  MEMOIK    OF 

After  giving  the  newly-christened  freeman  ^^  a  name," 
the  Quaker  gave  him  something  to  aid  him  to  get  '^a 
local  habitation."  So,  after  giving  him  some  money, 
Brown  again  started  for  Canada.  In  four  days  he 
reached  a  public-house,  and  went  in  to  warm  himself. 
He  soon  found  that  he  was  not  out  of  the  reach  of  his 
enemies.  While  warming  himself,  he  heard  some  men  in 
an  adjoining  bar-room  talking  about  some  runaway 
slaves^  He  thought  it  was  time  to  be  off,  and,  suiting 
the  action  to  the  thought,  he  was  soon  in  the  woods  out 
of  sight.  When  night  came,  he  returned  to  the  road  and 
walked  on ;  and  so,  for  two  days  and  two  nights,  till  he 
was  faint  and  ready  to  perish  of  hunger. 

In  this  condition  he  arrived  in  the  town  of  Cleveland, 
Ohio,  on  th6  banks  of  Lake  Erie,  where  he  determined 
to  remain  until  the  spring  of  the  year,  and  then  to  try 
and  reach  Canada.  Here  he  was  compelled  to  work 
merely  for  his  food. 

Having  tasted  the  sweets  of  freedom  himself,  his  great 
desire  was  to  extend  its  blessing  to  his  race,  and  in  the 
language  of  the  poet  he  would  ask  himself, 

**  Is  true  freedom  but  to  break 
Fetters  for  our  own  d^ar  sake. 
And  with  leathern  hearts  forget 
That  we  owe  mankind  a  debt  ? 

**  No  !  true  freedom  is  to  share 
All  the  chains  our  brothers  wear, 
And  with  heart  and  hand  to  be 
Earnest  to  make  others  free." 

While  acting  as  a  servant  to  one  of  the  steamers  on  Lake 
Erie,  Brown  often  took  fugitives  from  Cleveland  and 
other  ports  to  Buffalo,  or  Detroit,  from  either  of  which 
places  they  could  cross  to  Canada  in  an  hour.     During 


THE    AUTHOR.  29 

the  season  of  1842^  this  fugitive  slave  conveyed  no  less 
than  sixty-nine  runaway  slaves  across  Lake  Erie,  and 
placed  them  safe  on  the  soil  of  Canada. 

In  proportion  as  his  mind  expanded  under  the  more 
favorable  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  Brown 
became  anxious,  not  merely  for  the  redemption  of  his 
race  from  personal  slavery,  but  for  the  moral  and  reli- 
gious elevation  of  those  vrho  were  free.  Finding  that 
habits  of  intoxication  wxre  too  prevalent  among  his 
colored  brethren,  he,  in  conjunction  with  others,  com- 
menced a  temperance  reformation  in  their  body.  Such 
was  the  success  of  their  efforts  that,  in  three  years,  in 
the  city  of  Buffalo  alone,  a  society  of  upwards  of  five 
hundred  members  was  raised  out  of  a  colored  population 
of  less  than  seven  hundred.  Of  that  society  Mr.  Brown 
was  thrice  elected  president. 

In  the  spring  of  1844  he  became  an  agent  of  the  West- 
ern New  York  Anti-Slavery  Society,  and  afterwards 
spent  some  time  in  the  service  of  the  Massachusetts  So- 
ciety. In  1849  Mr.  Brown  embarked  for  Europe  as  a 
delegate  to  the  Paris  Peace  Conference. 

The  reception  of  Mr.  Brown  at  the  Peace  Congress,  in 
Paris,  was  most  flattering.  He  admirably  maintained  his 
reputation  as  a  public  speaker.  His  brief  address  upon 
that  '-war  spirit  of  America,  which  holds  in  bondage 
nearly  four  millions  of  his  brethren,''  produced  a  pro- 
found sensation.  At  its  conclusion  the  speaker  was 
warmly  greeted  by  Victor  Hugo,  the  Abbe  Duguerry, 
Emile  de  Girardin,  Richard  Cobden,  and  every  man  of 
note  in  the  assembly.  At  the  soiree  given  by  M.  de 
Tocqueville,  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Aflkirs,  and  the 
3^  - 


30  MEMOIK    OF 

other  fetes  given  to  the  members  of  the  Congress,  Mr. 
Brown  was  received  with  marked  attention. 

Having  finished  his  peace  mission  in  France,  he  re- 
turned to  England,  where  he  was  received  with  a  hearty 
welcome  by  some  of  the  most  influential  abolitionists  of 
that  country.  Most  of  the  fugitive  slaves,  and,  in  fact, 
nearly  all  of  the  colored  men  who  have  visited  Great 
Britain  from  the  United  States,  have  come  upon  begging 
missions,  either  for  some  society  or  for  themselves.  Mr. 
Brown  has  been  almost  the  only  exception.  With  that 
independence  of  feeling  which  those  who  are  acquainted 
with  him  know  to  be  one  of  his  chief  characteristics,  he 
determined  to  maintain  himself  and  family  by  his  own 
exertions, —  by  his  literary  labors,  and  the  honorable 
profession  of  a  public  lecturer.  From  nearly  all  the 
cities  and  large  provincial  towns  he  received  invitations  to 
lecture  or  address  public  meetings.  The  mayors,  or  other 
citizens  of  note,  presided  over  many  of  these  meetings. 
At  Newcastle-upon-Tyne  a  soiree  was  given  him,  and  an 
address  presented  by  the  citizens.  A  large  and  influen- 
tial meeting  was  held  at  Bolton,  Lancashire,  which  was 
addressed  by  Mr.  Brown,  and  at  its  close  the  ladies  pre- 
sented to  him  the  following  address : 

"  An  Address  presented  to  Mr.  William  Wells  Brown,  the  Fugi- 
tive Slave  from  America,  by  the  Ladies  of  Bolton,  March 
22nd,  1850  : 

^^Dear  Friend  and  Brother:  We  cannot  permit 
you  to  depart  from  among  us  without  giving  expres- 
sion to  the  feelings  which  we  entertain  towards  yourself 
personally,  and  to  the  sympathy  which  you  have  awak- 
ened in  our  breasts  for  the  three  millions  of  our  sisters 
and  brothers  who  still  suffer  and  groan  in  the  prison- 


THE    AUTHOR.  31 

house  of  American  bondage.  You  came  among  us  an 
entire  stranger ;  we  received  you  for  the  sake  of  your 
mission ;  and  having  heard  the  story  of  your  personal 
wrongs,  and  gazed  with  horror  on  the  atrocities  of 
slavery  as  seen  through  the  medium  of  your  touching 
descriptionSj  we  are  resolved,  henceforward,  in  reliance 
on  divine  assistance,  to  render  what  aid  we  can  to  the 
cause  which  you  have  so  eloquently  pleaded  in  our 
presence. 

^' We  have  no  words  to  express  our  detestation  of  the 
crimes  which,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  are  committed  in 
the  country  which  gave  you  birth.  Language  fails  to 
tell  our  deep  abhor^rence  of  the  impiety  of  those  who,  in 
the  still  more  sacred  name  of  rehgion,  rob  immortal  be- 
ings not  only  of  an  earthly  citizenship,  but  do  much  to 
prevent  them  from  obtaining  a  heavenly  one;  and,  as 
mothers  and  daughters,  we  embrace  this  opportunity  of 
giving  utterance  to  our  utmost  indignation  at  the  cruel- 
ties perpetrated  upon  our  sex,  by  a  people  professedly 
acknowledging  the  equality  of  all  mankind.  Carry  with 
you,  on  your  return  to  the  land  of  your  nativity,  this  our 
solemn  protest  against  the  wicked  institution  which,  like 
a  dark  and  baleful  cloud,  hangs  over  it ;  and  ask  the  un- 
feeling enslavers,  as  best  you  can,  to  open  the  prison- 
doors  to  them  that  are  bound,  and  let  the  oppressed  go 
free. 

''Allow  us  to  assure  you  that  your  brief  sojourn  in 
our  town  has  been  to  ourselves,  and  to  vast  multitudes, 
of  a  character  long  to  be  remembered ;  and  when  you 
are  far  removed  from  us,  and  toiling,  as  we  hope  you 
may  be  long  spared  to  do,  in  this  righteous  enterprise,  it 
may  be  some  solace  to  your  mind  to  know  that  your 


32  MEMOIR    OF 

name  is  cherished  with  affectionate  regard,  and  that  the 
blessing  of  the  Most  High  is  earnestly  supplicated  in 
behalf  of  yourself,  your  family,  and  the  cause  to  which 
you  have  consecrated  your  distinguished  talents/' 

A  most  respectable  and  enthusiastic  public  meeting 
W'as  held  at  Sheffield  to  welcome  Mr.  Brown,  and  the 
next  day  he  was  invited  to  inspect  several  of  the  large 
establishments  there.  While  going  through  the  manu- 
factory of  Messrs.  Broadhead  and  Atkin,  silver  and  elec- 
tro platers,  &c.,  in  Love-street,  and  whilst  he  was  being 
shown  through  the  works,  a  subscription  was  hastily  set 
on  foot  on  his  behalf,  by  the  workmen  and  w^omen  of  the 
establishment,  which  was  presented  to  Mr.  Brown,  in  the 
counting-house,  by  a  deputation  of  the  subscribers.  The 
spokesman  (the  designer  to  Messrs.  Broadhead  &  Atkin), 
addressing  Mr.  Brown  on  behalf  of  the  work-people, 
begged  his  acceptance  of  the  present  as  a  token  of  es- 
teem, as  well  as  an  expression  of  their  sympathy  in  the 
cause  he  advocates,  namely,  that  of  the  American  slave. 
Mr.  Brown  briefly  thanked  the  parties  for  their  spon- 
taneous free-will  offering,  accompanied,  as  it  was,  by  a 
generous  expression  of  sympathy  for  his  afflicted  brethren 
and  sisters  in  bondage. 

Mr.  Brown  was  in  England  five  years,  and  dumg 
his  sojourn  there  travelled  above  twenty-five  thousand 
miles  through  Great  Britain,  addressed  more  than  one 
thousand  public  meetings^*  lectured  in  twenty-three  me- 
chanics' and  literary  institutions,  and  gave  his  services 
to  many  of  the  benevolent  and  religious  societies  on  the 
occasion  of  their  anniversary  meetings.  After  a  lecture 
which  he  delivered  before  the  Whittington   Club,  he 


THE   AUTHOR.  33 

received  from  the  managers  of  th-at  institution  the  follow- 
ing testimonial : 

''  WiiiTTiNGTOx  Club  and  Metropolitan  Athen^um, 

189  Strand,  June  21,  1850. 

^' My  Dear  Sir:  I  have  much  pleasure  in  con- 
veying to  you  the  best  thanks  of  the  Managing  Commit- 
tee of  this  institution  for  the  excellent  lecture  you  gave 
here  last  evening,  and  also  in  presenting  you  in  their 
names  with  an  honorary  membership  of  the  club.  It  is 
hoped  that  you  will  often  avail  yourself  of  its  privileges  by 
coming  amongst  us.  You  will  then  see,  by  the  cordial 
welcome  of  the  members,  that  they  protest  against  the 
odious  distinctions  made  between  man  and  man,  and  the 
abominable  traffic  of  which  you  have  been  the  victim. 

''  For  my  own  part,  I  shall  be  happy  to  be  serviceable 
to  you  in  any  way,  and  at  all  times  be  glad  to  i^lace  the 
advantages  of  the  institution  at  your  disposal. 
'^  I  am,  my  dear  sir,  yours,  truly, 

''William  Strudwicke,  Secretary, 
''Mr.  W.  Wells  Brown." 


The  following  lines  were  read  at  a  soiree  given  to  Mr. 


Brown  at  Bristol,  in  1850 


TO  William  wells  brown, 

THE     AMERICAN     FUGITIVE     SLAVE. 

BY   E.  S.    MATHEWS. 

Brother,  farewell  to  thee  ! 

His  blessing  on  thee  rest 
Who  hates  all  slavery 

And  helps  the  poor  oppressed. 

Go  forth  with  power  to  break 
The  bitter,  galling  yoke  ; 


34  MEMOIR    OF   THE  AUTHOR. 

Go  forth  'mongst  strong  and  weak, 
The  aid  of  all  invoke. 

0,  thou  wilt  have  much  woe. 

Tossed  on  a  sea  of  strife, 
Hunted  by  many  a  foe 

Eager  to  take  thy  life. 

Perchance  thou  'It  have  to  brook 
The  taunts  of  bond  and  free. 

The  cold,  disdainful  look 

Of  men  —  less  men  than  thee. 

We  feel  thy  soul  will  rise 

Superior  to  it  all  ; 
For  thou  hast  heard  the  cries. 

And  drained  the  cup  of  gall. 

Thine  eyes  have  wept  the  tears 
Which  tyrants  taught  to  flow. 

While  craven  scorn  and  sneers 
Fell  with  the  shameful  blow. 

And  now  that  thou  art  come 
To  Freedom's  blessed  land. 

Thou  broodest  on  thy  home 
And  Slavery's  hateful  brand. 

Thou  thinkest  thou  canst  hear 
Three  million  voices  call ; 

They  raise  to  thee  their  prayers- 
Haste,  help  to  break  their  thrall ! 

Say,  wilt  thou  have,  thy  steps  to  guard, 
Some  powerful  spell  or  charm  ? 

Then  listen  to  thy  sister's  word. 
Nor  fear  thou  hurt  or  harm. 

When  shines  the  North  Star,  cold  and  bright, 
Cheer  thou  thy  heart,  lift  up  thy  head  ! 

Feel,  as  thou  look'st  upon  its  light. 
That  blessings  on  its  beams  are  shed  ! 

For  rich,  and  poor,  and  bond,  and  free, 

Will  also  gaze  and  pray  for  thee. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  Adieu  5  adieu  !  —  my  native  shore 
Fades  o'er  tlie  waters  blue  ; 
The  night-winds  sigh,  the  breakers  roar. 

And  shrieks  the  wild  sea-mew. 
"Yon  sun  that  sets  upon  the  sea 

We  follow  in  his  flight  ; 
Farewell  a  while  to  him  and  thee  ! 
My  native  land,  good-night !  " 

Childe  Harold. 

On  the  18th  July,  1849,  I  took  passage  in  the  steam- 
ship Canada^  Captain  Judkins,  bound  for  Liverpool. 
The  day  was  a  warm  one ;  so  much  so,  that  many  per- 
sons on  board,  as  well  as  on  shore,  stood  with  their 
umbrellas  up,  so  intense  was  the  heat  of  the  sun.  The 
ringing  of  the  ship's  bell  was  a  signal  for  us  to  shake 
hands  with  our  friends,  which  we  did,  and  then  stepped 
on  the  deck  of  the  noble  craft.  The  Canada  quitted 
her  moorings  at  half-past  twelve,  and  we  were  soon  in 
motion.  As  we  Avere  passing  out  of  Boston  Bay,  1  took 
my  stand  on  the  quarter-deck,  to  take  a  last  farewell 
(at  least  for  a  time)  of  my  native  land.  A  visit  io  the 
Old  World,  up  to  that  time,  had  seemed  but  a  dream.    As 


86  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

I  looked  back  upon  the  receding  land,  recollections  of 
the  past  rushed  through  my  mind  in  quick  succession. 
From  the  treatment  that  I  had  received,  from  the 
Americans  as  a  victim  of  slavery,  and  the  knowledge 
that  I  was  at  that  time  liable  to  be  seized  and  again 
reduced  to  whips  and  chains,  I  had  supposed  that  I 
would  leave  the  country  without  any  regret ;  but  in  this 
I  was  mistaken,  for  when  I  saw  the  last  thread  of  com- 
munication cut  off  between  me  and  the  land,  and  the 
dim  shores  dying  away  in  the  distance,  I  almost  regretted 
that  I  was  not  on  shore. 

An  anticipated  trip  to  a  foreign  country  appears 
pleasant  when  talking  about  it,  especially  when  sur- 
rounded by  friends  whom  we  love ;  but  when  we  have 
left  them  all  behind,  it  does  not  seem  so  pleasant. 
Whatever  may  be  the  fault  of  the  government  under 
which  w^e  live,  and  no  matter  how  oppressive  her  laws 
may  appear,  yet  we  leave  our  native  land  (if  such  it  be) 
with  feelings  akin  to  sorrow.  With  the  steamer's  pow- 
erful engine  at  work,  and  w^ith  a  fair  wind,  we  were 
speedily  on  the  bosom  of  the  Atlantic,  which  w^as  as 
calm  and  as  smooth  as  our  own  Hudson  in  its  calmest 
aspect.  We  had  on  board  above  one  hundred  passen- 
gers, forty  of  whom  were  the  ^' Vienneise  children"  — 
a  troop  of  dancers.  The  passengers  represented  several 
different  nations,  English,  French,  Spaniards,  Africans, 
and  Americans.  One  man,  who  had  the  longest  mus- 
tache that  mortal  man  was  ever  doomed  to  wear,  espe- 
cially attracted  my  attention.     He  appeared  to  belong  to 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         87 

no  country  in  particular,  but  was  yet  the  busiest  man  on 
board.  After  viewing  for  some  time  the  many  strange 
faces  round  me,  I  descended  to  the  cabin  to  look  after 
my  luggage,  which  had  been  put  hurriedly  on  board.  I 
hope  that  all  Avho  take  a  trip  of  so  great  a  distance  may 
be  as  fortunate  as  I  was,  in  being  supplied  with  books  to 
read  on  the  voyage.  My  friends  had  furnished  me  with 
literature,  from  ^' Macaulay's  History  of  England"  to 
'^Jane  Eyre,"  so  that  I  did  not  want  for  books  to 
occupy  my  time. 

A  pleasant  passage  of  about  thirty  hours  brought  us 
to  Halifax,  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  In  company 
with  my  friend  the  President  of  the  Oberlin  Institute, 
I  took  a  stroll  through  the  town  ;  and  from  what  little  I 
saw  of  the  people  in  the  streets,  I  am  sure  that  the 
taking  of  the  temperance  pledge  would  do  them  no  in- 
jury. Our  stay  at  Halifax  was  short.  Having  taken  in 
a  few  sacks  of  coals,  the  mails,  and  a  limited  number  of 
passengers,  we  were  again  out,  and  soon  at  sea. 

As  the  steamer  moved  gently  from  the  shore  I  felt 
like  repeating  those  lines  of  a  distinguished  poet : 

"  With  thee,  my  bark,  I  '11  swiftly  go 

Athwart  the  foaming  brine  ; 
Nor  care  what  land  thou  bear'st  me  to, 

So  not  again  to  mine. 
Welcome,  welcome,  ye  dark  blue  wayes  ! 

And  when  you  fail  my  sight 
Welcome  ye  deserts  and  ye  caves  ! 

My  native  land,  good-night !  '* 

4  ,.   ■  ' 


38         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

Nothing  occurred  during  the  passage  to  mar  the  pleas- 
ure which  we  anticipated  from  a  voyage  by  sea  in  such 
fine  weather.  And,  after  a  splendid  run  of  seven  days 
more,  I  heard  the  welcome  cry  of  ^'  Land  a-head."  It 
w^as  early  in  the  morning,  and  I  was  not  yet  out  of  bed  ; 
but  I  had  no  wish  to  remain  longer  in  my  berth.  Al- 
though the  passage  had  been  unprecedently  short,  yet 
this  news  was  hailed  with  joy  by  all  on  board. 

For  my  own  part,  I  was  soon  on  deck.  Away  in  the 
distance,  and  on  our  larboard  quarter,  were  the  gray 
hills  of  old  Ireland.  Yes ;  we  were  in  sight  of  the  land 
of  Curran,  Emmet  and  O'Connell.  While  I  rejoiced 
with  the  other  passengers  at  the  sight  of  land,  and  the 
near  approach  to  the  end  of  our  voyage,  I  felt  low- 
spirited,  because  it  reminded  me  of  the  great  distance  I 
was  from  home,  and  of  dear  ones  left  behind.  But  the 
experience  of  above  twenty  years'  travelling  had  pre- 
pared me  to  undergo  what  most  persons  must,  in  visit- 
ing a  strange  country.  This  was  the  last  day  but  one 
that  we  were  to  be  on  board ;  and,  as  if  moved  by  the 
sight  of  land,  all  seemed  to  be  gathering  their  different 
things  together — brushing  up  their  old  clothes  and  put- 
ting on  their  new  ones,  as  if  this  would  bring  them  any 
sooner  to  the  end  of  their  journey. 

The  last  night  on  board  was  the  most  pleasant,  appa- 
rently, that  we  had  experienced ;  probably,  because  it 
was  the  last.  The  moon  was  in  her  meridian  splendor, 
pouring  her  broad  light  over  the  calm  sea ;  while  near  to 
us,  on  ■'our  starboard  side,  was  a  ship,  with  her  snow- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  39 

white  sails  spread  aloft,  and  stealing  through  the  water 
like  a  thing  of  life.  What  can  present  a  more  pic- 
turesque view  than  two  vessels  at  sea  on  a  moonlight 
night,  and  within  a  few  rods  of  each  other  ?  With  a 
gentle  breeze,  and  the  powerful  engine  at  work,  we 
seemed  to  be  flying  to  the  embrace  of  our  British 
neighbors. 

The  next  morning  I  was  up  before  the  sun,  and  found 
that  we  were  within  a  few  miles  of  Liverpool.  The 
taking  of  a  pilot  on  board  at  eleven  o'clock  warned  us 
to  prepare  to  quit  our  ocean  palace,  and  seek  other  quar- 
ters. At  a  little  past  three  o'clock,  the  ship  cast  anchor, 
and  we  were  all  tumbled,  bag  and  baggage,  into  a  small 
steamer,  and  in  a  few  moments  were  at  the  door  of  the 
custom-house.  The  passage  had  only  been  nine  days 
and  twenty-two  hours,  the  quickest  on  record  at  that 
time,  yet  it  was  long  enough.  I  waited  nearly  three 
hours  before  my  name  was  called,  and  when  it  was  I 
unlocked  my  trunks  and  handed  them  over  to  one  of  the 
officers,  whose  dirty  hands  made  no  improvement  on  the 
work  of  the  laundress.  First  one  article  was  taken  out, 
and  then  another,  till  an  Iron  Collar  that  had  been 
worn  by  a  female  slave  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi 
was  hauled  out,  and  this  democratic  instrument  of  tor- 
ture became  the  centre  of  attraction ;  so  much  so,  that 
instead  of  going  on  with  the  examination,  all  hands 
stopped  to  look  at  the  ^'  Negro  Collar." 

Several  of  my  countrymen  who  were  standing  by 
were  not  a  little  displeased  at  answers  which  I  gave  to 


40  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

questions  on  the  subject  of  slavery  ;  but  they  held  their 
peace.  The  interest  created  by  the  appearance  of  the 
iron  collar  closed  the  examination  of  my  luggage.  As 
if  afraid  that  ihej  would  find  something  more  hideous, 
they  put  the  custom-house  mark  on  each  piece,  and 
passed  them  out,  and  I  was  soon  comfortably  installed  at 
Brown's  Temperance  Hotel,  Clayton-square. 

No  person  of  my  complexion  can  visit  this  country 
without  being  struck  with  the  marked  difference  between 
the  English  and  the  Americans.  The  prejudice  which  I 
have  experienced  on  all  and  every  occasion  in  the  United 
States,  and  to  some  extent  on  board  the  Canada^  van- 
ished as  soon  as  I  set  foot  on  the  soil  of  Britain.  In 
America  I  had  been  bought  and  sold  as  a  slave  in  the 
Southern  States.  In  the  so-called  Free  States,  I  had  been 
treated  as  one  born  to  occupy  an  inferior  position, —  in 
steamers,  compelled  to  take  my  fare  on  the  deck ;  in 
hotels,  to  take  my  meals  in  the  kitchen ;  in  coaches,  to 
ride  on  the  outside ;  in  railways,  to  ride  in  the  *'  negro- 
car;"  and  in  churches,  to  sit  in  the  ^'negro^ew."  But 
no  sooner  was  I  on  British  soil,  than  I  w^'  recognized 
as  a  man,  and  an  equal.  The  very  dogs  m  the  streets 
appeared  conscious  of  my  manhood.  Such  is  the  dif- 
ference, and  such  is  the  change  that  is  brought  about  by 
a  trip  of  nine  days  in  an  Atlantic  steamer. 

I  was  not  more  struck  with  the  treatment  of  the  peo» 
pie  than  with  the  appearance  of  the  great  seaport  of  the 
world.     The  gray  stone  piers  and  docks,  the  dark  look 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         41 

of  the  magnificent  warehouses,  the  substantial  appear- 
ance of  everything  around,  causes  one  to  think  himself 
in  a  new  world  instead  of  the  old.  Everything  in  Liv- 
erpool looks  old,  yet  nothing  is  worn  out.  The  beautiful 
villas  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  in  the  vicinity 
of  Birkenhead,  together  with  the  countless  number  of 
vessels  in  the  river,  and  the  great  ships  to  be  seen  in  the 
stream,  give  life  and  animation  to  the  whole  scene. 

Everything  in  and  about  Liverpool  seems  to  be  built 
for  the  future  as  well  as  the  present.  We  had  time  to 
examine  but  few  of  the  public  buildings,  the  first  of 
which  was  the  custom-house,  an  edifice  that  would  be  an 
ornament  to  any  city  in  the  world. 
4^ 


CHAPTER    II. 

**  It  seems  as  if  every  ship  their  sovereign  knows, 
His  awful  summons  they  so  soon  obey  ; 
So  hear  the  scaly  herds  when  Proteus  blows, 
And  so  to  pasture  follow  through  the  sea." 


After  remaining  in  Liverpool  two  days,  I  took  pas- 
sage in  the  little  steamer  Adelaide  for  Dublin.  The 
wind  being  high  on  the  night  of  our  voyage,  the  vessel 
had  scarcely  got  to  sea  ere  we  were  driven  to  our  berths ; 
and,  though  the  distance  from  Liverpool  to  Dublin  is 
short,  yet,  strange  to  say,  I  witnessed  more  effects  of  the 
sea  and  rolling  of  the  steamer  upon  the  passengers,  than 
was  to  be  seen  during  the  whole  of  our  voyage  from 
America.  We  reached  Kingstown,  five  miles  below 
Dublin,  after  a  passage  of  nearly  fifteen  hours,  and  were 
soon  seated  on  a  car,  and  on  our  way  to  the  city.  While 
coming  into  the  bay,  one  gets  a  fine  view  of  Dublin  and 
the  surrounding  country.  Few  sheets  of  water  make  a 
more  beautiful  appearance  than  Dublin  Bay.  We  found 
it  as  still  and  smooth  as  a  mirror,  with  a  soft  mist  on  its 
surface, —  a  strange  contrast  to  the  boisterous  sea  that 
we  had  left  a  moment  before. 


PLACES  AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD.  43 

The  curious  phrases  of  the  Irish  sounded  harshly  upon 
my  ear,  probably  because  they  were  strange  to  me.  I 
lost  no  time,  on  reaching  the  city,  in  seeking  out  some  to 
whom  I  had  letters  of  introduction,  one  of  whom  gave  me 
an  invitation  to  make  his  house  my  home  during  my  stay, 
—  an  invitation  which  I  did  not  think  fit  to  decline. 

Dublin,  the  metropolis  of  Ireland,  is  a  city  of  above 
two  hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  and  is  considered  by 
the  people  of  Ireland  to  be  the  second  city  in  the  British 
empire.  The  Liffey,  which  falls  into  Dublin  Bay  a 
little  below  the  custom-house,  divides  the  town  into  tvfo 
nearly  equal  parts.  The  streets  are  —  some  of  them  — 
very  fine,  especially  Sackville-street,  in  the  centre  of 
which  stands  a  pillar  erected  to  Nelson,  England's  most 
distinguished  naval  commander.  The  Bank  of  Ireland, 
to  which  I  paid  a  visit,  is  a  splendid  building,  and  was 
formerly  the  Parliament  .House.  This  magnificent  edifice 
fronts  College  Green,  and  near  at  hand  stands  a  bronze 
statue  of  William  III.  The  Bank  and  the  Custom- 
House  are  two  of  the  finest  monuments  of  architecture 
in  the  city;  the  latter  of  which  stands  near  the  river 
Lifiey,  and  its  front  makes  an  imposing  appearance, 
extending  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  feet.  It  is 
built  of  Portland  stone,  and  is  adorned  with  a  beautiful 
portico  in  the  centre,  consisting  of  four  Doric  columns, 
supporting  an  enriched  entablature,  decorated  with  a 
group  of  figures  in  alto-relievo,  representing  Hibernia 
and  Britannia  presenting  emblems  of  peace  and  liberty. 
A  magnificent  dome,  supporting  a  cupola,  on  whose  apex 


44         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

stands  a  colossal  figure  of  Hope,  rises  nobly  from  the 
centre  of  the  building  to  a  height  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  feet.  It  is,  withal,  a  fine  specimen  of  what 
man  can  do. 

From  this  noble  edifice  we  bent  our  steps  to  another 
part  of  the  city,  and  soon  found  ourselves  in  the  vicinity 
of  St.  Patrick's,  w^here  we  had  a  heart-sickening  view  of 
the  poorest  of  the  poor.  All  the  recollections  of  poverty 
which  I  had  ever  beheld  seemed  to  disappear  in  com- 
parison with  what  was  then  before  me.  We  passed  a 
filthy  and  noisy  market,  where  fruit  and  vegetable 
women  were  screaming  and  begging  those  passing  by  to 
purchase  their  commodities ;  while  in  and  about  the 
market-place  were  throngs  of  beggars  fighting  for  rotten 
fruit,  cabbage-stocks,  and  even  the  very  trimmings  of 
vegetables.  On  the  side-walks  were  great  numbers 
hovering  about  the  doors  of  the  more  wealthy,  and  fol- 
lowing strangers,  importuning  them  for  ^' pence  to  buy 
bread."  Sickly  and  emaciated  looking  creatures,  half 
naked,  were  at  our  heels  at  every  turn. 

In  our  return  home,  we  passed  through  a  respectable- 
looking  street,  in  which  stands  a  small  three-story  brick 
building,  that  was  pointed  out  to  us  as  the  birthplace  of 
Thomas  Moore,  the  poet.  The  following  verse  from  one 
of  his  poems  was  continually  in  my  mind  while  viewing 
this  house: 

««  Where  is  the  slave  so  lowly, 
Condemned  to  chains  unholy, 
Who,  could  he  burst 
His  bonds  at  first. 
Would  pine  beneath  them  slowly?  '* 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         45 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  but  it  had  more  the 
appearance  of  a  holiday  than  a  day  of  rest.  It  had  been 
announced  the  day  before  that  the  royal  fleet  was  ex- 
pected, and  at  an  early  hour  on  Sunday  the  entire  town 
seemed  to  be  on  the  move  towards  Kingstown,  and,  as 
the  family  with  whom  I  was  staying  followed  the  multi- 
tude, I  was  not  inclined  to  remain  behind,  and  so  went 
with  them.  On  reaching  the  station,  we  found  it  utterly 
impossible  to  get  standing  room  in  any  of  the  trains, 
much  less  a  seat,  and  therefore  determined  to  reach 
Kingstown  under  the  plea  of  a  morning's  walk  ;  and  in 
this  we  were  not  alone,  for  during  the  walk  of  five  miles 
the  road  was  filled  with  thousands  of  pedestrians,  and  a 
countless  number  of  carriages,  phaetons,  and  vehicles  of  a 
more  humble  order. 

We  reached  the  lower  town  in  time  to  get  a  good 
dinner,  and  rest  ourselves  before  going  to  make  further 
searches  for  her  majesty's  fleet.  At  a  little  past  four 
o'clock,  we  observed  the  multitude  going  towards  the  pier, 
a  number  of  whom  were  yelling,  at  the  top  of  their  voices, 
'^  It 's  coming,  it 's  coming  ! ''  but  on  going  to  the  quay 
we  found  that  a  false  alarm  had  been  given.  However, 
we  had  been  on  the  look-out  but  a  short  time,  when  a 
column  of  smoke,  rising,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  sea,  an- 
nounced that  the  royal  fleet  was  near  at  hand.  The 
concourse  in  the  vicinity  of  the  pier  was  variously  esti- 
mated at  from  eighty  to  one  hundred  thousand. 

It  was  not  long  before  the- five  steam^ers  were  entering 
the  harbor,  the  one  bearing  her  majesty  leading  the  wary. 


46  y  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

As  each  vessel  had  a  number  of  distinguished  persons  on 
board,  the  people  appeared  to  be  at  a  loss  to  know  which 
was  the  queen  ;  and  as  each  party  made  its  appearance 
on  the  promenade  deck,  they  were  received  with  great 
enthusiasm,  the  party  having  the  best-looking  lady  being 
received  with  the  greatest  applause.  The  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  Prince  Alfred,  while  crossing  the  deck  were 
recognized,  and  greeted  with  three  cheers ;  the  former, 
taking  off  his  hat  and  bowing  to  the  people,  showed  that 
he  had  had  some  training  as  a  public  man,  although  not 
ten  years  of  age.  But  not  so  with  Prince  Alfred  ;  for, 
when  his  brother  turned  to  him  and  asked  him  to  take 
off  his  hat,  and  make  a  bow  to  the  people,  he  shook  his 
head,  and  said,  ^^No."  This  was  received  with  hearty 
laughter  by  those  on  board,  and  was  responded  to  by  the 
thousands  on  shore.  But  greater  applause  was  yet  in 
store  for  the  young  prince ;  for  the  captain  of  the 
steamer  being  near  by,  and  seeing  that  the  Prince  of 
Wales  could  not  prevail  on  his  brother  to  take  off  his  hat, 
stepped  up  to  him  and  undertook  to  take  it  off  for  him, 
when,  seemingly  to  the  delight  of  all,  the  prince  put  both 
hands  to  his  head,  and  held  his  hat  fast.  This  was 
regarded  as  a  sign  of  courage  and  future  renown,  and 
was  received  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  many  crying 
out,  ^'  Good,  good  !  he  will  make  a  brave  king  when  his 
day  comes." 

After  the  greetings  and  applause  had  been  wasted  on 
many  who  had  appeared  on  deck,  all  at  once,  as  if  by 
some  magic  power,  we  beheld  a  lady,  rather  small  in 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABllOAD.  47 

stature,  with  auburn  hair,  attired  in  a  plain  dress,  and 
wearing  a  sky-blue  bonnet,  standing  on  the  larboard 
paddle-box,  by  the  side  of  a  tall,  good-looking  man,  with 
a  mustache.  The  thunders  of  applause  that  now  rent  the 
air.  and  cries  of  ''The  queen,  the  queen!  "  seemed  to 
set  at  rest  the  question  of  which  was  her  majesty.  But 
a  few  moments  were  allowed  to  the  people  to  look  at  the 
queen,  before  she  again  disappeared ;  and  it  w^as  under- 
stood that  she  would  not  be  seen  again  that  evening.  A 
rush  was  then  made  for  the  railway,  to  return  to  Dublin. 
^  ^  ^  ^-  ^  ^ 

The  seventh  of  August  was  a  great  day  in  Dublin. 
At  an  early  hour  the  bells  began  their  merry  peals,  and 
the  people  were  soon  seen  in  groups  in  the  streets  and 
public  squares.  The  hour  of  ten  was  fixed  for  the  pro- 
cession to  leave  Kingstown,  and  it  was  expected  to  enter 
the  city  at  eleven.  The  windows  of  the  houses  in  the 
streets  through  which  the  royal  train  was  to  pass  were 
at  a  premium,  and  seemed  to  find  ready  occupants. 

Being  invited  the  day  previous  to  occupy  part  of  a 
window  in  Sackville-street,  I  was  stationed  at  my  allot- 
ted place  at  an  early  hour,  with  an  outstretched  neck 
and  open  eyes.  My  own  color  differing  from  those  about 
me,  I  attracted  not  a  little  attention  from  many ;  and 
often,  when  gazing  down  the  street  to  see  if  the  royal 
procession  was  in  sight,  would  find  myself  eyed  by  all 
around.  But  neither  while  at  the  window  or  in  the 
streets  was  I  once  insulted.  This  was  so  unlike  the 
American  prejudice,  that  it  seemed  strange  to  me.     It 


48         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

was  near  twelve  o'clock  before  the  procession  entered 
Sackville-streetj  and  Avhen  it  did  all  eyes  seemed  to  beam 
with  delight.  The  first  carriage  contained  only  her 
majesty  and  the  Prince  Consort ;  the  second  the  royal 
children,  and  the  third  the  lords  in  waiting.  Fifteen 
carriages  were  used  by  those  that  made  up  the  royal 
party.  I  had  a  full  view  of  the  queen  and  all  who  fol- 
lowed in  the  train.  Her  majesty  —  whether  from 
actual  love  for  her  person,  or  the  novelty  of  the  occasion, 
I  know  not  which  —  was  received  everywhere  with  the 
greatest  enthusiasm.  One  thing,  however,  is  cer- 
tain, and  that  is,  Queen  Victoria  is  beloved  by  her 
subjects. 

But  the  grand  fete  was  reserved  for  the  evening. 
Great  preparations  had  been  made  to  have  a  grand  illum- 
ination on  the  occasion,  and  hints  were  thrown  out  that 
it  would  surpass  anything  ever  witnessed  in  London.  In 
this  they  were  not  far  out  of  the  way;  for  all  who 
witnessed  the  scene  admitted  that  it  could  scarcely  have 
been  surpassed.  My  own  idea  of  an  illumination,  as  I 
had  seen  it  in  the  back- woods  of  my  native  land,  dwindled 
into  nothing  when  compared  with  this  magnificent 
affair. 

In  company  with  a  few  friends,  and  a  lady  under  my 
charge,  I  undertook  to  pass  through  Sackville  and  one 
or  two  other  streets  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
but  we  found  it  utterly  impossible  to  proceed.  Masses 
thronged  the  streets,  and  the  wildest  enthusiasm  seemed 
to  prevail.     In  our  attempt  to  cross  the  bridge,  we  were 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         49 

wedged  in  and  lost  our  companions  ;  and  on  one  occasion 
I  was  separated  from  the  lady,  and  took  shelter  under  a 
cart  standing  in  the  street.  After  being  jammed  and 
pulled  about  for  nearly  two  hours,  I  returned  to  my 
lodgings,  where  I  found  part  of  my  company,  who 
had  come  in  one  after  another.  At  eleven  o'clock  we 
had  all  assembled,  and  each  told  his  adventures  and 
''  hair-breadth  escapes  : ''  and  nearly  every  one  had  lost 
a  pocket-handkerchief  or  something  of  the  kind  ;  my  own 
was  among  the  missing.  However,  I  lost  nothing ;  for  a 
benevolent  lady,  who  happened  to  be  one  of  the  company, 
presented  me  with  one  which  w^as  of  far  more  value  than 
the  one  I  had  lost. 

Every  one  appeared  to  enjoy  the  holiday  which  the 
royal  visit  had  caused.  But  the  Irish  are  indeed  a 
strange  people.  How  varied  their  aspect,  how  contra- 
dictory their  character  !  Ireland,  the  land  of  genius 
and  degradation,  of  great  resources  and  unparalleled 
poverty,  noble  deeds  and  the  most  revolting  crimes,  the 
land  of  distinguished  poets,  splendid  orators,  and  the 
bravest  of  soldiers,  the  land  of  ignorance  and  beggary  ! 
Dublin  is  a  splendid  city,  but  its  splendor  is  that  of 
chiselled  marble  rather  than  real  life.  One  cannot 
behold  these  architectural  monuments  without  think  in o; 
of  the  great  men  that  Ireland  has  produced.  The  names 
of  Burke,  Sheridan,  Flood,  Grattan,  O'Connell  and 
Shiel,  have  become  as  familiar  to  the  Americans  as 
household  words.  Burke  is  known  as  the  statesman ; 
Sheridan  for  his  great  speech  on  the  trial  of  Warren 
5     , 


50         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD, 

Hastings;  Grattan  for  his  eloquence;  O'Connell  as  the 
agitator,  and  Shiel  as  the  accomplished  orator. 

But,  of  Ireland's  sons,  none  stands  higher  in.  America 
than  Thomas  Moore,  the  poet.  The  vigor  of  his  sarcasm, 
the  glow  of  his  enthusiasm,  the  coruscations  of  his  fancy, 
and  the  flashing  of  his  wit,  seem  to  be  as  well  understood 
in  the  New  World  as  the  Old ;  and  the  support  which  his 
pen  has  given  to  civil  and  religious  liberty  throughout 
the  world  entitles  the  Minstrel  of  Erin  to  this  elevated 
position. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  There  is  no  other  land  like  thee. 
No  dearer  shore  ; 
Thou  art  the  shelter  of  the  free,  — 
The  home,  the  port  of  Liberty." 

Aftee  a  pleasant  sojourn  of  three  weeks  in  Ireland. 
I  took  passage  in  one  of  the  mail-steamers  for  Liverpool ^ 
andj  arriving  there,  \Yas  soon  on  the  road  to  the  metropo- 
lis. The  passage  from  Dublin  to  Liverpool  was  an 
agreeable  one.  The  rough  sea  that  we  passed  through 
on  going  to  Ireland  had  given  waj  to  a  dead  calm ;  and 
our  noble  little  steamer,  on  quitting  the  Dublin  wharf, 
seemed  to  understand  that  she  was  to  have  it  all  her  own 
way.  During  the  first  part  of  the  evening,  the  boat 
appeared  to  feel  her  importance,  and,  da^rting  through 
the  w^ater  with  majestic  strides,  she  left  behind  her  a 
dark  cloud  of  smoke  suspended  in  the  air  like  a  banner ; 
while,  far  astern  in  the  wake  of  the  vessel,  could  be  seen 
the  rippled  waves  sparkling  in  the  rays  of  the  moon, 
giving  strength  and  beauty  to  the  splendor  of  the  even- 
ing. 

On  reaching  Liverpool,  and  partaking  of  a  good 
breakfast,  for  whicli  we  paid  double  price,  we  proceeded 


62         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

to  the  railway  station,  and  were  soon  going  at  a  rate  un- 
known to  those  accustomed  to  travel  only  on  American 
railways.  At  a  little  past  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
we  saw  in  the  distance  the  outskirts  of  London.  We 
could  get  but  an  indistinct  vieWj  which  had  the  appear- 
ance of  one  architectural  mass,  extending  all  round  to 
the  horizon,  and  enveloped  in  a  combination  of  fog  and 
smoke  ;  and  towering  above  every  other  object  to  be  seen 
w^as  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 
'  A  few  moments  more,  and  we  were  safely  seated  in  a 
^'Hansom's  Patent,"  and  on  our  way  to  Hughes's  —  one 
of  the  politest  men  of  the  George  Fox  stamp  we  have 
ever  met.  Here  we  found  forty  or  fifty  persons,  who, 
like  ourselves,  w^ere  bound  for  the  Peace  Congress.  The 
Sturges,  the  Wighams,  the  Eichardsons,  the  Aliens,  the 
Thomases,  and  a  host  of  others  not  less  distinguished  as 
friends  of  peace,  were  of  the  company  —  of  many  of  whom 
I  had  heard,  but  none  of  whom  I  had  ever  seen ;  yet  I 
was  not  an  entire  stranger  to  many,  especially  to  the 
abolitionists.  In  company  with  a  friend,  I  sallied  forth 
after  tea  to  take  a  view  of  the  city.  The  evening  was 
fine  —  the  dense  fog  and  smoke,  having  to  some  extent 
passed  away,  left  the  stars  shining  brightly,  while  the 
gas-light  from  the  street-lamps  and  the  brilliant  shop- 
windows  gave  it  the  appearance  of  day-light  in  a  new 
form.  ^' What  street  is  this  ?  "  we  asked.  '^  Cheapside," 
w^as  the  reply.  The  street  was  thronged,  and  everybody 
seemed  to  be  going  at  a  rapid  rate,  as  if  there  was  some- 
thing of  importance  at  the  end  of  the  journey.     Flying 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         58 

vehicles  of  every  description  passing  each  other  with  a 
dangerous  rapidity,  men  with  lovely  women  at  their 
sides,  children  running  about  as  if  they  had  lost  their 
parents  —  all  gave  a  brilliancy  to  the  scene  scarcely  to 
be  excelled.  If  one  wished  to  get  jammed  and  pushed 
about,  he  need  go  no  further  than  Cheapside.  But 
everything  of  the  kind  is  done  with  a  degree  of  propriety 
in  London  that  would  put  the  New  Yorkers  to  blush. 
If  you  are  run  over  in  London,  they  ^ '  beg  your  pardon  ; '  ^ 
if  they  run  over  you  in  New  York,  you  are  ^^  laughed 
at : ''  in  London,  if  your  hat  is  knocked  off  it  is  picked  up 
and  handed  to  you ;  if  in  New  York,  you  must  pick  it 
up  yourself.  There  is  a  lack  of  good  manners  among 
Americans  that  is  scarcely  known  or  understood  in  Eu- 
rope. Our  stay  in  the  great  metropolis  gave  us  but 
little  opportunity  of  seeing  much  of  the  place ;  for  in 
twenty-four  hours  after  our  arrival  we  joined  the  rest 
of  the  delegates,  and  started  on  our  visit  to  our  Gallic 
neighbors. 

We  assembled  at  the  London  Bridge  Railway  Station, 
a  few  minutes  past  nine,  to  the  number  of  six  hundred. 
The  day  was  fine,  and  every  eye  seemed  to  glow  with 
enthusiasm.  Besides  the  delegates,  there  were  probably 
not  less  than  six  hundred  more,  who  had  come  to  see  the 
company  start.  We  took  our  seats,  and  appeared  to  be 
waiting  for  nothing  but  the  iron-horse  to  be  fastened  to 
the  train,  when  all  at  once  we  were  informed  that  we 
must  go  to  the  booking-office  and  change  our  tickets.  At 
this  news  every  one  appeared  to  be*  vexed.  This  caused 
^  5^ 


54  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABEOAD. 

great  trouble ;  for,  on  returning  to  the  train,  many  per- 
sons got  into  the  wrong  carriages ;  and  several  parties 
were  separated  from  their  friends,  while  not  a  few  were 
calling  out,  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  ^' Where  is  my 
wife  ?  Where  is  my  husband  ?  Where  is  my  luggage  7 
Who  's  got  my  boy  ?  Is  this  the  right  train  ?  "  ^^  What 
is  that  lady  going  to  do  with  all  these  children  ?  "  asked 
the  guard.  ^'Is  she  a  delegate?  are  all  the  children 
delegates  ?  "  In  the  carriage  where  I  had  taken  my  seat 
was  a  good-looking  lady,  who  gave  signs  of  being  very 
much  annoyed.  ^'It  is  just  so  when  I  am  going  any- 
where :  I  never  saw  the  like  in  my  life  !  "  said  she.  ^'  I 
really  wish  I  was  at  home  again." 

An  hour  had  now  elapsed,  and  we  were  still  at  the 
station.  However,  we  were  soon  on  our  way,  and  going 
at  express  speed.  In  passing  through  Kent  we  enjoyed 
the  scenery  exceedingly,  as  the  weather  was  altogether  in 
our  favor ;  and  the  drapery  which  nature  hung  on  the 
trees,  in  the  part  through  which  we  passed,  was  in  all  its 
gayety.  On  our  arrival  at  Folkstone,  w^e  found  three 
steamers  in  readiness  to  convey  the  party  to  Boulogne. 
As  soon  as  the  train  stopped,  a  general  rush  was  made 
for  the  steamers,  and  in  a  very  short  time  the  one  in 
which  I  had  embarked  was  passing  out  of  the  harbor. 
The  boat  appeared  to  be  conscious  that  we  were  going  on 
a  holy  mission,  and  seemed  to  be  proud  of  her  load. 
There  is  nothing  in  this  wide  world  so  like  a  thing  of  life 
as  a  steamer,  from  the  breathing  of  her  steam  and  smoke, 
the  energy  of  her  motion,  and  the  beauty  of  her  shape ; 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  56 

while  the  ease  with  which  she  is  managed  by  the  com- 
mand of  a  single  voice  makes  her  appear  as  obedient  as 
the  horse  is  to  the  rein. 

When  we  were  about  half  way  between  the  two  great 
European  powers,  the  oiBcer  began  to  gather  the  tickets. 
The  first  to  whom  he  applied,  and  who  handed  out  his 
^^  Excursion  Ticket,"  was  informed  that  we  were  all  in 
the  wrong  boat.  ^'  Is  this  not  one  of  the  boats  to  take 
over  the  delegates?  "  asked  a  pretty  little  lady,  with  a 
whining  voice.  ''  No,  madam,''  said  the  captain.  ''  You 
must  look  to  the  committee  for  your  pay,"  said  one  of  the 
company  to  the  captain.  ^'I  have  nothing  to  do  with 
committees,"  the  captain  replied.  '^  Your  fare,  gentle- 
men, if  you  please." 

Here  the  whole  party  were  again  thrown  into  confu- 
sion. '^  Do  you  hear  that  ?  We  are  in  the  wrong  boat." 
''  I  knew  it  would  be  so,"  said  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ritchie,  of 
Edinburgh.  ^^  It  is  indeed  a  pretty  piece  of  work,"  said 
a  plain-looking  lady  in  a  handsome  bonnet.  '^  When  I 
go  travelling  again,"  said  an  elderly-looking  gent,  with 
an  eye-glass  to  his  face,  ^  *  I  will  take  the  phaeton  and  old 
Dobbin."  Every  one  seemed  to  lay  the  blame  on  the 
committee,  and  not,  too,  without  some  just  grounds. 
However,  Mr.  Sturge,  one  of  the  committee,  being  in  the 
boat  with  us,  an  arrangement  was  entered  into  by  which 
we  were  not  compelled  to  pay  our  fare  the  second  time. 

As  we  neared  the  French  coast,  the  first  object  that 
attracted  our  attention  was  the  Napoleon  Pillar,  on  the 
top  of  which  is  a  statue  of  the  emperor  in  the  imperial 


56  PLACES   AND    PEOPLiE    ABROAD. 

robes.  V\^e  landed^  partook  of  refreshment  that  had  been 
prepared  for  uS;  and  again  repaired  to  the  railway  station. 
The  arrangements  for  leaving  Boulogne  were  no  better 
than  those  at  London.  But  after  the  delay  of  another 
hour  we  were  again  in  motion. 

It  was  a  beautiful  country  through  which  we  passed 
from  Boulogne  to  Amiens.  Straggling  cottages  which 
bespeak  neatness  and  comfort  abound  on  every  side.  The 
eye  wanders  over  the  diversified  views  with  unabated 
pleasure,  and  rests  in  calm  repose  upon  its  superlative 
beauty.  Indeed,  the  eye  cannot  but  be  gratified  at  view- 
ing the  entire  country  from  the  coast  to  the  metropolis. 
Sparkling  hamlets  spring  up,  as  the  steam-horse  speeds  his 
way,  at  almost  every  point,  showing  the  progress  of  civil- 
ization, and  the  refinement  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

We  arrived  at  Paris  a  few  minutes  past  twelve  o'clock 
■at  night,  when,  according  to  our  tickets,  we  should  have 
been  there  at  nine.  Elihu  Burritt,  who  had  been  in 
Paris  some  days,  and  who  had  the  arrangements  there 
pretty  much  his  own  way,  was  at  the  station  waiting  the 
arrival  of  the  train,  and  we  had  demonstrated  to  us  the 
best  evidence  that  he  understood  his  business.  In  no 
other  place  on  the  whole  route  had  the  affairs  been  so 
well  managed  ;  for  we  were  seated  in  our  respective  car- 
riages and  our  luggage  placed  on  the  top,  and  away  we 
went  to  our  hotels,  without  the  least  difiiculty  or  incon- 
venience. The  champion  of  an  ^'  Ocean  Penny  Postage  " 
received,  as  he  deserved,  thanks  from  the  whole  company 
for  his  admirable  management. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         57 

The  silence  of  the  night  was  only  disturbed  by  the 
rolling  of  the  wheels  of  the  omnibus,  as  we  passed  through 
the  dimly-lighted  streets.  Where,  a  few  months  before, 
was  to  be  seen  the  flash  from  the  cannon  and  the  musket, 
and  the  hearing  of  the  cries  and  groans  behind  the  barri- 
cades, was  now  the  stillness  of  death  —  nothing  save  here 
and  there  a  gens  cVarme  w^as  to  be  seen  going  his 
rounds  in  silence. 

The  omnibus  set  us  down  at  the  hotel  Bedford,  Rue  do 
L'Card,  where,  although  near  one  o'clock,  we  found  a 
good  supper  waiting  for  us ;  and,  as  I  was  not  devoid  of 
an  appetite,  I  did  my  share  towards  putting  it  out  of  the 
Avay. 

The  next  morning  I  was  up  at  an  early  hour,  and  out 
on  the  Boulevards  to  see  what  might  be  seen.  As  I  was 
passing  from  the  hotel  to  the  Place  de  La  Concord,  all  at 
once,  and  as  if  by  some  magic  power,  I  found  myself  in 
front  of  the  most  splendid  edifice  imaginable,  situated  at 
the  end  of  the  Rue  Nationale.  Seeing  a  number  of  per- 
sons entering  the  church  at  that  early  hour,  and  recog- 
nizing among  them  my  friend  the  President  of  the 
Oberlin  (Ohio)  Institute,  and  wishing  not  to  stray  too 
far  from  my  hotel  before  breakfast,  I  followed  the  crowd 
and  entered  the  building.  The  church  itself  consisted  of 
a  vast  nave,  interrupted  by  four  pews  on  each  side, 
fronted  with  lofty  fluted  Corinthian  columns  standing  on 
pedestals,  supporting  colossal  arches,  bearing  up  cupolas 
pierced  with  skylights  and  adorned  with  compartments 
gorgeously  gilt ;  their  corners  supported  with  saints  and 


58         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD, 

apostles  in  alto  relievo.  The  walls  of  the  church  were 
lined  with  rich  marble.  The  different  paintings  and 
figures  gave  the  interior  an  imposing  appearance.  On 
inquiry,  I  found  that  I  was  in  the  Church  of  the 
Madeleine.  It  was  near  this  spot  that  some  of  the 
most  interesting  scenes  occurred  during  the  Revolution 
of  1848j  which  dethroned  Louis  Philippe.  Behind  the 
Madeleine  is  a  small  but  well-supplied  market ;  and  on 
an  esplanade  east  of  the  edifice  a  flower-market  is  held 
on  Tuesdays  and  Fridays. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  same  day,  the  Peace  Con- 
gress met  in  the  Salle  St.  Cecile,  Rue  de  la  St. 
Lazare.  The  Parisians  have  no  ^'Exeter  Hall;"  in 
fact,  there  is  no  private  hall  in  the  city  of  any  size, 
save  this,  where  such  a  meeting  could  be  held.  This 
hall  had  been  fitted  up  for  the  occasion.  The  room 
is  long,  and  at  one  end  has  a  raised  platform  ;  and  at  the 
opposite  end  is  a  gallery,  with  seats  raised  one  above 
another.  On  one  side  of  the  hall  was  a  balcony  with 
sofas,  which  were  evidently  the  ''  reserved  seats.'' 

The  hall  was  filled  at  an  early  hour  with  the  dele- 
gates, their  friends,  and  a  good  sprinkling  of  the  French. 
Occasionally,  small  groups  of  gentlemen  would  make 
their  appearance  on  the  platform,  until  it  soon  appeared 
that  there  was  little  room  left  for  others ;  and  yet  the 
officers  of  the  Convention  had  not  come  in.  The  dif- 
ferent countries  were,  many  of  them,  represented  here. 
England,  France,  Belgium,  Germany,  Switzerland, 
Greece,  Spain,  and  the  United  States,  had  each  their 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         69 

delegates.  The  assembly  began  to  give  signs  of  impa- 
tience, when  very  soon  the  train  of  officials  made  their 
appearance  amid  great  applause.  Victor  Hugo  led  the 
way,  followed  by  M.  Duguerry,  cure  of  the  Madeleine, 
Elihu  Burritt,  and  a  host  of  others  of  less  note.  Victor 
Hugo  took  the  chair  as  President  of  the  Congress,  sup- 
ported by  vice-presidents  from  the  several  nations  repre- 
sented. Mr.  Eichard,  the  secretary,  read  a  dry  report 
of  the  names  of  societies,  committees,  etc.,  which  was 
deemed  the  opening  of  the  Convention. 

The  president  then  arose,  and  delivered  one  of  the 
most  impressive  and  eloquent  appeals  in  favor  of  peace 
that  could  possibly  be  imagined.  The  effect  produced 
upon  the  minds  of  all  present  was  such  as  to  make  the 
author  of  ^^  Notre  Dame  de  Paris  ^^  a  great  favorite 
with  the  Congress.  An  English  gentleman  near  me  said 
to  his  friend,^'!  can't  understand  a  word  of  what  he 
says,  but  is  it  not  good  ?  "  Victor  Hugo  concluded  his 
speech  amid  the  greatest  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the 
French,  which  was  followed  by  hurras  in  the  old  Eng- 
lish style.  The  Convention  was  successively  addressed 
by  the  President  of  the  Brussels  Peace  Society ;  Presi- 
dent Mahan,  of  the  Oberlin  (Ohio)  Institute,  U.  S.; 
Henry  Vincent ;  and  Richard  Cobden.  The  latter  was 
not  only  the  lion  of  the  English  delegation,  but  the 
great  man  of  the  Convention.  When  Mr.  Cobden  speaks 
there  is  no  want  of  hearers.  The  great  power  of 
this  gentleman  lies  in  his  facts  and  his  earnestness,  for 
he  cannot  be  called  an  eloquent  speaker.     Mr.  Cobden 


60  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD, 

addressed  the  Congress  first  in  French,  then  in  English ; 
and,  with  the  single  exception  of  Mr.  E\^art,  M.  P., 
was  the  only  one  of  the  English  delegation  that  could 
speak  to  the  French  in  their  own  language. 

The  first  day's  proceedings  were  brought  to  a  close  at 
five  o'clock,  when  the  numerous  audience  dispersed  — 
the  citizens  to  their  homes,  and  the  delegates  to  see  the 
sights. 

I  was  not  a  little  amused  at  an  incident  that  occurred 
at  the  close  of  the  first  session.  On  the  passage  from 
America,  there  were  in  the  same  steamer  with  me  sev- 
eral Americans,  and  among  these  three  or  four  appeared 
to  be  much  annoyed  at  the  fact  that  I  wa^  a  passenger, 
and  enjoying  the  company  of  white  persons;  and,  al- 
though I  was  not  openly  insulted,  I  very  often  heard  the 
remark,  that  ''  That  nigger  had  better  be  on  his  master's 
farm,"  and  ^^  What  could  the  American  Peace  Society 
be  thinking  about,  to  send  a  black  man  as  a  delegate  to 
Paris?"  Well,  at  the  close  of  the  first  sitting  of  the 
convention,  and  just  as  I  was  leaving  Victor  Hugo,  to 
whom  I  had  been  introduced  by  an  M.  P.,  I  observed 
near  me  a  gentleman  with  his  hat  in  hand,  whom  I 
recognized  as  one  of  the  passengers  who  had  crossed  the 
Atlantic  with  me  in  the  Canada^  and  who  appeared  to 
be  the  most  horrified  at  having  a  negro  for  a  fellow-pas- 
senger. This  gentleman,  as  I  left  M.  Hugo,  stepped  up 
to  me  and  said,  ^'  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Brown? "  ^^  You 
have  the  advantage  of  me,"  said  I.  ''  0,  don't  you 
know  me  ?    I   was  a  fellow-passenger  with   you   from 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD.         61 

America ;  I  wish  you  would  give  me  an  introduction  to 
Victor  Hugo  and  Mr.  Cobden.''  I  need  not  inform  you 
that  I  declined  introducing  this  pro -slavery  American  to 
these  distinguished  men.  I  only  allude  to  this,  to  show 
what  a  change  came  over  the  dreams  of  my  white  Ameri- 
can brother  by  crossing  the  ocean.  The  man  who  would 
not  have  been  seen  walking  with  me  in  the  streets  of 
New  Yorkj  and  who  would  not  have  shaken  hands  with 
me  with  a  pair  of  tongs  while  on  the  passage  from  the 
United  States,  could  come  with  hat  in  hand  in  Paris, 
and  say,  '^I  was  your  fellow-passenger."  From  the 
Salle  de  St.  Cecile,  I  visited  the  Column  Vendome,  from 
the  top  of  which  I  obtained  a  fine  view  of  Paris  and  its 
environs.  This  is  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument  of  Paris. 
On  the  top  of  this  pillar  is  a  statue  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon,  eleven  feet  high.  The  monument  is  built 
with  stone,  and  the  outside  covered  with  a  metallic  com- 
position, made  of  cannons,  guns,  spikes,  and  other  war- 
like implements  taken  from  the  Russians  and  Austrians 
by  Napoleon.  Above  twelve  hundred  cannons  were 
melted  down  to  help  to  create  this  monument  of  folly,  to 
commemorate  the  success  of  the  French  arms  in  the  Ger- 
man campaign.  The  column  is  in  imitation  of  the  Tra- 
jan pillar  at  Rome,  and  is  twelve  feet  in  diameter  at  the 
base.  The  door  at  the  bottom  of  the  pillar,  and  where 
we  entered,  was  decorated  above  with  crowns  of  oak, 
surmounted  by  eagles,  each  weighing  five  hundred 
pounds.  The  bas-relief  of  the  shaft  pursues  a  spiral 
direction  to  the  top,  and  displays,  in  a  chronological 
6 


62  PLACES  AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

Order,  the  principal  actions  of  the  French  army,  from 
the  departure  of  the  troops  from  Boulogne  to  the  battle 
of  Austerlitz.  The  figures  are  near  three  feet- high,  and 
their  number  said  to  be  two  thousand.  This  sumptuous 
monument  stands  on  a  plinth  of  polished  granite,  sur- 
mounted by  an  iron  railing  ;  and,  from  its  size  and  posi- 
tion, has  an  imposing  appearance  -when  seen  from  any 
part  of  the  city. 

Everything  here  appears  strange  and  peculiar  —  the 
people  not  less  so  than  their  speech.  The  horses,  car- 
riages, furniture,  dress  and  manners,  are  in  keeping 
with  their  language.  The  appearance  of  the  laborers 
in  caps,  resembling  night-caps,  seemed  particularly 
strange  to  me.  The  women  without  bonnets,  and  their 
caps  turned  the  right  side  behind,  had  nothing  of  the 
look  of  our  American  women.  The  prettiest  woman  I 
ever  saw  was  without  a  bonnet,  walking  on  the  Boule- 
vards. While  in  Ireland,  and  during  the  few  days  I 
was  in  England,  I  was  struck  with  the  marked  difference 
between  the  appearance  of  the  women  and  those  of  my 
own  country.  The  American  women  are  too  tall,  too 
sallow,  and  too  long-featured,  to  be  called  pretty.  This 
is  most  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  in  America  the 
people  come  to  maturity  earlier  than  in  most  other 
countries. 

My  first  night  in  Paris  was  spent  with  interest.  ISTo 
place  can  present  greater  street  attractions  than  the 
Boulevards  of  Paris.  The  countless  number  of  cafes, 
with  tables  before  the  doors,  and  these  surrounded  by 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         63 

men  with  long  moustaches,  with  ladies  at  their  sides, 
whose  very  smiles  give  indication  of  happiness,  together 
with  the  sound  of  music  from  the  gardens  in  the  rear, 
tell  the  stranger  that  he  is  in  a  different  country  from 
his  own. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


A  town  of  noble  fame, 


Where  monuments  are  found  in  ancient  guise, 
"Where  kings  and  queens  in  pomp  did  long  abide, 
And  where  God  pleased  that  good  King  Louis  died." 

After  the  Convention  had  finished  its  sittings  yester- 
day, I  accompanied  Mrs.  C and  sisters  to  Versailles, 

where  they  are  residing  during  the  summer.  It  was 
really  pleasing  to  see  among  the  hundreds  of  strange 
faces  in  the  Convention  those  distinguished  friends  of  the 
slave  from  Boston. 

Mrs.    C 's  residence  is  directly  in  front  of  the 

great  palace  where  so  many  kings '  have  made  their 
homes,  the  prince  of  whom  was  Louis  XIV.  The  palace 
is  now  unoccupied.  No  ruler  has  dared  to  take  up  his 
residence  here  since  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
were  driven  from  it  by  the  mob  from  Paris  on  the  eighth 
of  October,  1789.  The  town  looks  like  the  wreck  of  what 
it  once  was.  At  the  commencement  of  the  first  revolution, 
it  contained  one  hundred  thousand  inhabitants ;  now  it 
has  only  about  thirty  thousand.  It  seems  to  be  going 
back  to  what  it  was  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIII.,  when,  in 
1624,  he  built  a  small  brick  chateau,  and  from  it  arose 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         65 

the  magnificent  palace  which  now  stands  here,  and  which 
attracts  strangers  to  it  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

I  arose  this  morning  at  an  early  hour,  and  took  a 
walk  through  the  grounds  of  the  palace,  and  remained 
three  hours  among  the  fountains  and  statuary  of  this 
more  than  splendid  place.  At  ten  o'clock  we  again 
returned  to  Paris,  to  the  Peace  Congress. 

The  session  was  opened  by  a  speech  from  M.  Coquerel, 
the  Protestant  clergyman  in  Paris.  His  speech  was 
received  with  much  applause,  and  seemed  to  create  great 
sensation  in  the  Congress,  especially  at  the  close  of  his 
remarks,  when  he  was  seized  by  the  hand  by  the  Abbe 
Duguerry,  amid  the  most  deafening  and  enthusiastic  ap- 
plause of  the  entire  multitude.  The  meeting  was  then 
addressed  in  English  by  a  short  gentleman,  of  florid  com- 
plexion. His  words  seemed  to  come  without  the  least 
diflSculty,  and  his  gestures,  though  somewhat  violent, 
were  evidently  studied  ;  and  the  applause  with  which  he 
was  greeted  by  the  English  delegation  showed  that  he 
was  a  man  of  no  little  distinction  among  them.  His 
speech  was  one  continuous  flow  of  rapid,  fervid  eloquence, 
that  seemed  to  fire  every  heart ;  and  although  I  disliked 
his  style,  I  was  prepossessed  in  his  favor.  This  was 
Henry  Vincent,  and  his  speech  was  in  favor  of  disarma- 
ment. 

Mr.  Vincent  was  followed  by  M.  Emile  de  Girardin, 

the  editor  of  La  Presse^  in  one  of  the  most  eloquent 

speeches  that  I  ever  heard;    and  his   exclamation    of 

^^  Soldiers  of  Peace  "  drew  thunders  of  applause  from 

6* 


66         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

his  own  countrymen.  M.  Girardin  is  not  only  the  leader 
of  the  French  press,  but  is  a  writer  on  politics  of  great 
distinction,  and  a  leader  of  no  inconsiderable  party  in  the 
National  Assembly ;  although  still  a  young  man,  ap- 
parently not  more  than  thirty-eight  or  forty  years  of 
age. 

After  a  speech  from  Mr.  Ewart,  M.  P.,  in  French, 
and  another  from  Mr.  Cobden  in  the  same  lan^-uafj-e,  the 
Convention  was  brought  to  a  close  for  the  day.  I  spent 
the  morning  yesterday  in  visiting  some  of  the  lions  of  the 
French  capital,  among  which  was  the  Louvre.  The 
French  government  having  kindly  ordered  that  the 
members  of  the  Peace  Congress  should  be  admitted  free, 
and  without  ticket,  to  all  the  public  works,  I  had  nothing 
to  do  but  present  my  card  of  membership,  and  was  im- 
mediately admitted. 

The  first  room  I  entered  was  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  in  length;  is  known  as  the  ^' Long  Gallery,"  and 
contains  some  of  the  finest  paintings  in  the  world. 
On  entering  this  superb  palace,  my  first  impression  was 
that  all  Christeifdom  had  been  robbed,  that  the  Louvre 
might  make  a  splendid  appearance.  This  is  the  Italian 
department,  and  one  would  suppose  by  its  appearance 
that  but  few  paintings  had  been  left  in  Italy.  The 
entrance  end  of  the  Louvre  was  for  a  long  time  in  an 
unfinished  state,  but  was  afterwards  completed  by  that 
master  workman,  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  It  was  long 
thought  that  the  building  would  crumble  into  decay,  but 
the  genius  of  the  great  Corsican  rescued  it  from  ruin. 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  67 

During  our  walk  through  the  Louvre,  we  saw  some 
twenty  or  thirty  artists  copying  paintings;  some  had 
their  copies  finished  and  were  going  out,  others  half 
done,  while  many  had  just  commenced.  I  remained  some 
minutes  near  a  pretty  French  girl,  who  was  copying  a 
painting  of  a  dog  rescuing  a  child  from  a  stream  of  water 
into  which  it  had  fallen. 

I  walked  down  one  side  of  the  hall  and  up  the  other, 
and  was  about  leaving,  when  I  was  informed  that  this  was 
only  one  room,  and  that  a  half-dozen  more  were  at  my 
service ;  but  a  clock  on  a  neighboring  church  reminded 
me  that  I  must  quit  the  Louvre  for  the  Salle  de  St. 
Cecile. 

^  M^  4i.  4/*  jiL.  Ai. 

-T5"  •T?-  ^  ^nv"  TV  ^ 

At  the  meeting  of  the  third  session  of  the  Congress,  the 
hall  was  filled  at  an  early  hour  with  rather  a  more 
fashionable-looking  audience  than  on  any  former  occasion, 
and  all  appeared  anxious  for  its  commencement,  as  it  was 
understood  to  be  the  last  day.  After  the  reading  of 
several  letters  from  gentlemen,  apologizing  for  their  not 
being  able  to  attend,  the  speech  of  Elihu  Burritt  was 
read  by  a  son  of  M.  Coquerel.  I  felt  somewhat  aston- 
ished that  my  countryman,  wno  was  said  to  be  master  of 
fifty  languages,  had  to  get  some  one  to  read  his  speech 
in  French. 

The  Abbe  Duguerry  now  came  forward  amid  great 
cheering,  and  said  that  ^'the  eminent  journalist,  Girar- 
din,  and  the  great  English  logician,  Mr.  Cobden,  had 
made  it  unnecessary  for  any  further  advocacy  in  that 


68         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

assembly  of  the  peace  cause  :  that  if  the  principles  laid 
down  in  the  resolutions  were  carried  out,  the  work  would 
be  done.  He  said  that  the  question  of  general  pacifica- 
tion was  built  on  truth, —  truth  which  emanated  from 
God, —  and  it  were  as  vain  to  undertake  to  prevent  air 
from  expanding  as  to  check  the  progress  of  truth.  It 
must  and  would  prevail." 

A  pale,  thin-faced  gentleman  next  ascended  the  plat- 
form (or  tribune,  as  it  was  called)  amid  shouts  of  ap- 
plause from  the  English,  and  began  his  speech  in  rather 
a  low  tone,  when  compared  with  the  sharp  voice  of  Vin- 
cent, or  the  thunder  of  the  Abbe  Duguerry.  An  audi- 
ence is  not  apt  to  be  pleased  or  even  contented  with  an 
inferior  speaker,  when  surrounded  by  eloquent  men,  and 
I  looked  every  moment  for  manifestations  of  disapproba- 
tion, as  I  felt  certain  that  the  English  delegation  had 
made  a  mistake  in  applauding  this  gentleman,  who 
seemed  to  make  such  an  unpromising  beginning.  But  the 
speaker  soon  began  to  get  warm  on  the  subject,  and  even 
at  times  appeared  as  if  he  had  spoken  before.  In  a  very 
short  time,  with  the  exception  of  his  own  voice,  the  still- 
ness of  death  prevailed  throughout  the  building,  and  the' 
speaker  delivered  one  of  the  most  logical  speeches  Inade 
in  the  Congress,  and,  despite  of  his  thin,  sallow  look, 
interested  me  much  more  than  any  whom  I  had  before 
heard.  Towards  the  close  of  his  remarks,  he  was  several 
times  interrupted  by  manifestations  of  approbation ;  and 
finally  concluded  amid  great  cheering.     I  inquired  the 


PLACES   ANI>    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  69 

gentleman's  name,  and  was  informed  that  it  was  Edward 
Miallj  editor  of  the  Nonconformist. 

After  speeches  from  several  others,  the  great  Peace 
Congress  of  1849,  which  had  brought  men  together  from 
nearly  all  the  governments  of  Europe,  and  many  from 
America,  was  brought  to  a  final  close  by  a  speech  from 
the  president,  returning  thanks  for  the  honor  that  had 
been  conferred  upon  him.  He  said  :  ^'My  address  shall 
be  short,  and  yet  I  have  to  bid  you  adieu  !  Hovf  resolve 
to  do  so  ?  Here,  during  three  days,  have  questions  of 
the  deepest  import  been  discussed,  examined,  probed  to 
the  bottomx ;  and  during  these  discussions  counsels  have 
been  given  to  governments  which  they  will  do  well  to 
profit  by.  If  these  days'  sittings  are  attended  with  no 
other  result,  they  will  be  the  means  of  sowing  in  the 
minds  of  those  present  germs  of  cordiality  which  must 
ripen  into  good  fruit.  England,  France,  Belgium, 
Europe  and  America,  would  all  be  drawn  closer  by  these 
sittings.  Yet  the  moment  to  part  has  arrived,  but  I  can 
feel  that  we  are  strongly  united  in  heart.  But,  before 
parting,  I  may  congratulate  you  and  myself  on  the 
result  of  our  proceedings.  We  have  been  all  joined 
together  without  distinction  of  country ;  we  have  all  been 
united  in  one  common  feeling  during  our  three  days' 
communion.  The  good  work  cannot  go  back ;  it  must 
advance,  it  must  be  accomplished.  The  course  of  the 
future  may  be  judged  of  by  the  sound  of  the  footsteps  of 
the  past.  In  the  course  of  that  day's  discussion,  a  remin- 
iscence had  been  handed  up  to  one  of  the  speakers,  that 


70  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

this  was  the  anniversary  of  the  dreadful  massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew  :  the  reverend  gentleman  who  was  speaking 
turned  away  from  the  thought  of  that  sanguinary  scene 
with  pious  horror,  natural  to  his  sacred  calling.  But  I, 
who  may  boast  of  firmer  nerve,  I  take  up  the  remem- 
brance. Yes,  it  was  on  this  day,  two  hundred  and 
seventy-seven  years  ago,  that  Paris  w^as  roused  from 
slumber  by  the  sound  of  that  bell  which  bore  the  name 
of  cloche  d!ar^ent.  Massacre  was  on  foot,  seekino; 
Avith  keen  eye  for  its  victim ;  man  was  busy  in  slaying 
man.  That  slaughter  was  called  forth  by  mingled  pas- 
sions of  the  worst  description.  Hatred  of  all  kinds  was 
there  urging  on  the  slayer, —  hatred  of  a  religious,  a 
political,  a  personal  character.  And  yet  on  the  anniver- 
sary of  that  same  day  of  horror,  and  in  that  very  city 
whose  blood  was  flowing  like  water,  has  God  this  day 
given  a  rendezvous  to  men  of  peace,  whose  wild  tumult  is 
transformed  into  order,  and  animosity  into  love.  The 
stain  of  blood  is  blotted  out,  and  in  its  place  beams  forth 
a  ray  of  holy  light.  All  distinctions  are  removed,  and 
Papist  and  Huguenot  meet  together  in  friendly  com- 
munion. (Loud  cheers.)  Who  that  thinks  of  these 
amazing  changes  can  doubt  of  the  progress  that  has  been 
made  ?  But  whoever  denies  the  force  of  progress  must 
deny  God,  since  progress  is  the  boon  of  Providence,  and 
emanated  from  the  great  Being  above.  I  feel  gratified 
for  the  change  that  has  been  effected,  and,  pointing 
solemnly  to  the  past,  I  say  let  this  day  be  ever  held 
memorable ;    let  the  twenty-fourth  of   August,    1572, 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  71 

be  remembered  only  for  the  purpose  of  being  compared 
with  the  twenty-fourth  of  August,  1849 ;  and  when  we 
think  of  the  latter,  and  ponder  over  the  high  purpose  to 
which  it  has  been  devotedj —  the  advocacy  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  peace, — ■  let  us  not  be  so  wanting  in  reliance  on 
Providence  as  to  doubt  for  one  moment  of  the  eventual 
success  of  our  holy  cause.'' 

The  most  enthusiastic  cheers  followed  this  interesting 
speech.  A  vote  of  thanks  to  the  government,  and  three 
times  three  cheers,  w^ith  Mr.  Cobden  as  ''fugleman," 
ended  the  great  Peace  Congress  of  1849. 

Time  for  separating  had  arrived,  yet  all  seemed  un- 
willing to  leave  the  place,  where,  for  three  days,  men  of 
all  creeds  and  of  no  creed  had  met  upon  one  common 
platform.  In  one  sense  the  meeting  was  a  glorious  one, 
in  another  it  was  mere  child's  play ;  for  the  Congress  had 
been  restricted  to  the  discussion  of  certain  topics.  They 
were  permitted  to  dwell  on  the  blessings  of  peace,  but 
were  not  allowed  to  say  anything  about  the  very  subjects 
above  all  others  that  should  have  been  brought  before  the 
Congress.  A  French  army  had  invaded  Rome  and  put 
down  the  friends  of  political  and  religious  freedom,  yet 
not  a  word  was  said  in  reference  to  it.  The  fact  is,  the 
committee  permitted  the  Congress  to  be  gagged  before 
it  had  met.  They  put  padlocks  upon  their  own  mouths, 
and  handed  the  keys  to  the  government.  And  this  was 
sorely  felt  by  many  of  the  speakers.  Richard  Cobden, 
who  had  thundered  his  anathemas  against  the  corn-laws 
of  his  own  country,  and  against  wars  in  every  clime,  had 


72         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

to  sit  quiet  in  his  fetters.  Henry  Vincent,  who  can 
make  a  louder  speech  in  favor  of  peace  than  almost  any- 
other  man,  and  whose  denunciations  of  ^'  all  war,"  have 
gained  him  no  little  celebrity  with  peace  men,  had  to 
confine  himself  to  the  blessings  of  peace.  0,  how  I 
wished  for  a  Massachusetts  atmosphere,  a  New  England 
convention  platform,  with  Wendell  Phillips  as  the 
speaker,  before  that  assembled  multitude  from  all  parts 
of  the  world ! 

But  the  Congress  is  over,  and  cannot  now  be  made 
different ;  yet  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  neither  the  London 
Peace  Committee,  nor  any  other  men  having  the  charge 
of  getting  up  such  another  great  meeting,  will  commit 
such  an  error  again. 


CHAPTER  V. 

**  Man  J  on  the  dubious  waves  of  error  tossed. 
His  ship  half  foundered,  and  his  compass  lost, 
Sees,  far  as  human  optics  may  command, 
A  sleeping  fog,  and  fancies  it  dry  land." 

COWPER. 

The  day  after  the  close  of  the  CongresSj  the  delegates 
and  their  friends  were  invited  to  a  soiree  by  M.  de 
Tocqueville,  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  to  take  place 
on  the  next  evening  (Saturday)  ;  and,  as  my  colored 
face  and  curly  hair  did  not  prevent  my  getting  an  invi- 
tation, I  was  present  with  the  rest  of  my  peace  brethren. 

Had  I  been  in  America,  where  color  is  considered  a 
crime,  I  would  not  have  been  seen  at  such  a  gathering, 
unless  as  a  servant.  In  company  with  several  delegates, 
we  left  the  Bedford  Hotel  for  the  mansion  of  the  Minis- 
ter of  Foreign  Affairs  ;  and,  on  arriving,  we  found  a  file 
of  soldiers  drawn  up  before  the  gate.  This  did  not  seem 
much  like  peace  :  however,  it  was  merely  done  in  honor 
of  the  company.  We  entered  the  building  through 
massive  doors,  and  resigned  ourselves  into  the  hands  of 
good-looking  waiters  in  white  wigs ;  and,  after  our  names 
were  duly  announced,  were  passed  from  room  to  roomj 
7 


74  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD. 

till  I  was  presented  to  Madame  de  Tocqueville,  who  was 
standing  near  the  centre  of  the  large  drawing-room,  with 
a  bouquet  in  her  hand.  I  was  about  passing  on,  when 
the  gentleman  who  introduced  me  intimated  that  I  was 
an  '^American  slave."  At  the  announcement  of  this 
fact,  the  distinguished  lady  extended  her  hand  and  gave 
me  a  cordial  welcome,  at  the  same  time  saying,  ^^  I 
hope  you  feel  yourself  free  in  Paris.''  Having  accepted 
an  invitation  to  a  seat  by  the  lady's  side,  who  seated 
herself  on  a  sofa,  I  was  soon  what  I  most  dislike,  ' '  the 
observed  of  all  observers."  I  recognized,  among  many 
of  my  own  countrymen  who  were  gazing  at  me,  the 
American  Consul,  Mr.  Walsh.  My  position  did  not  im- 
prove his  looks.  The  company  present  on  this  occasion 
were  variously  estimated  at  from  one  thousand  to  fifteen 
hundred.  Among  these  were  the  ambassadors  from  the 
different  countries  represented  at  the  French  metropolis, 
and  many  of  the  elite  of  Paris.  One  could  not  but  be 
interested  with  the  difference  in  dress,  looks  and  man- 
ners, of  this  assemblage  of  strangers,  w^hose  language  was 
as  different  as  their  general  appearance.  Delight  seemed 
to  beam  in  every  countenance,  as  the  living  stream  floated 
from  one  room  to  another.  The  house  and  gardens  were 
illuminated  in  the  most  gorgeous  manner.  Red,  yellow, 
blue,  green,  and  many  other  colored  lamps,  suspended 
from  the  branches  of  the  trees  in  the  gardens,  gave  life 
and  animation  to  the  whole  scene  out  of  doors.  The 
soiree  passed  off  satisfactorily  to  all  parties  ;  and  by 
twelve  o'clock  I  was  again  at  my  hotel. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  76 

Through  the  politeness  of  the  government  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Congress  have  not  only  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  all  the  public  works  free,  and  without  special 
ticketj  but  the  palaces  of  Versailles  and  St.  Cloud,  to- 
gether with  their  splendid  grounds,  have  been  thrown 
open,  and  the  water- works  set  to  playing  in  both  places. 
This  mark  of  respect  for  the  peace  movement  is  commend- 
able in  the  French ;  and  were  I  not  such  a  strenuous 
friend  of  free  speech,  this  act  would  cause  me  to  over- 
look the  padlocks  that  the  government  put  upon  our  lips 
in  the  Congress. 

Two  long  trains  left  Paris  at  nine  o'clock  for  Ver- 
sailles ;  and  at  each  of  the  stations  the  company  were 
loudly  cheered  by  the  people  who  had  assembled  to  see 
them  pass.  At  Versailles  we  found  thousands  at  the 
station,  who  gave  us  a  most  enthusiastic  welcome.  We 
were  blessed  with  a  goodly  number  of  the  fair  sex,  who 
always  give  life  and  vigor  to  such  scenes.  The  train 
had  scarcely  stopped,  ere  the  great  throng  were  wending 
their  ways  in  different  directions, —  some  to  the  cafes  to  get 
what  an  early  start  prevented  their  getting  before  leav- 
ing Paris,  and  others  to  see  the  soldiers  who  were  on 
revievf.  But  most  bent  their  steps  towards  the  great 
palace. 

At  eleven  o'clock  Ave  were  summoned  to  the  dijeuner 
which  had  been  prepared  by  the  English  delegates  in 
honor  of  their  American  friends.  About  six  hundred 
sat  down  at  the  tables.  Breakfast  being  ended,  Mr. 
Cobden  was  called  to  the  chair,  and  several  speeches 


76         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

were  made.  Many  who  had  not  an  opportunity  to  speak 
at  the  Congress  thought  this  a  good  chance ;  and  the 
written  addresses  which  had  been  studied  during  the 
passage  from  America,  with  the  hope  that  they  would 
immortalize  their  authors  before  the  Congress,  were  pro- 
duced at  the  breakfast-table.  But  speech-making  was 
not  the  order  of  the  day.  Too  many  thundering  ad- 
dresses had  been  delivered  in  the  Salle  de  St.  Cecile  to 
allow  the  company  to  sit  and  hear  dryly  written  and 
worse  delivered  speeches  in  the  Teniscourt. 

There  was  no  limited  time  given  to  the  speakers,  yet 
no  one  had  been  on  his  feet  five  minutes  before  the 
cry  was  heard  from  all  parts  of  the  house,  ^^  Time, 
time  !  ''  One  American  was  hissed  down  ;  another  took 
his  seat  with  a  red  face  ;  and  a  third  opened  his  bundle 
of  paper,  looked  around  at  the  audience,  made  a  bow, 
and  took  his  seat  amid  great  applause.  Yet  some  speeches 
were  made,  and  to  good  effect ;  the  best  of  which  was  by 
Elihu  Burritt,  who  was  followed  by  the  Rev.  James 
Freeman  Clarke.  I  regretted  very  much  that  the  latter 
did  not  deliver  his  address  before  the  Congress,  for  he  is 
a  man  of  no  inconsiderable  talent,  and  an  acknowledged 
friend  of  the  slave. 

The  cry  of  ^'  The  water- works  are  playing  !  "  ''  The 
water  is  on! "  broke  up  the  rheeting,  without  even  a  vote 
of  thanks  to  the  chairman ;  and  the  whole  party  were 
soon  revelling  among  the  fountains  and  statues  of  Louis 
XIV.  Description  would  fail  to  give  a  just  idea  of  the 
grandeur  and  beauty  of  this  splendid  place.     I  do  not 


PLACES    AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  77 

think  that  anything  can  surpass  the  fountain  of  Nep- 
tune, which  stands  near  the  Grand  Trianon.  One  may 
easily  get  lost  in  wandering  through  the  grounds  of 
Versailles,  but  he  will  always  be  in  sight  of  some  life- 
like statue.  These  monuments,  erected  to  gratify  the 
fancy  of  a  licentious  king,  make  their  appearance  at 
every  turn.  Two  lions,  the  one  overturning  a  wild  boar, 
the  other  a  vfolf,  both  the  production  of  Fillen,  pointed 
out  to  us  the  fountain  of  Diana.  But  I  will  not  attempt 
to  describe  to  you  any  of  the  very  beautiful  sculptured 
gods  and  goddesses  here. 

With  a  single  friend  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  two  Trianons. 
The  larger  was,  we  were  told,  just  as  King  Louis  Philippe 
left  it.  One  room  was  splendidly  fitted  up  for  the  recep- 
tion of  Her  Majesty  Queen  Victoria,  w^ho,  it  appeared, 
had  promised  a  visit  to  the  French  court ;  but  the 
French  monarch  ran  away  from  his  throne  before  the 
time  arrived.  The  Grand  Trianon  is  not  larger  than 
many  noblemen's  seats  that  may  be  seen  in  a  day's  ride 
through  any  part  of  the  British  empire.  The  building 
has  only  a  ground  floor,  but  its  proportions  are  very 
elegant. 

We  next  paid  our  respects  to  the  Little  Trianon.  This 
appears  to  be  the  most  republican  of  any  of  the  French 
palaces.  I  inspected  this  little  palace  with  much 
interest,  not  more  for  its  beauty  than  because  of  its  hav- 
ing been  the  favorite  residence  of  that  purest  of  prin- 
cesses, and  most  affectionate  of  mothers,  Marie  Antoinette. 
The  grounds  and  building  may  be  said  to  be  only  a 
7^ 


78         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

palace  in  miniature,  and  this  makes  it  a  still  more  lovely 
spot.  The  building  consists  of  a  square  pavilion  two 
stories  high,  and  separated  entirely  from  the  accessory 
buildings,  which  are  on  the  left,  and  among  them  a 
pretty  chapel.  But  a  wish  to  be  with  the  multitude, 
who  were  roving  among  the  fountains,  cut  short  my  visit 
to  the  Trianons. 

The  day  w^as  very  fine,  and  the  whole  party  seemed  to 
enjoy  it.  It  was  said  that  there  were  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand  persons  at  Versailles  during  the  day. 
The  company  appeared  to  lose  themselves  with  the  pleas- 
ure of  walking  among  the  trees,  flower-beds,  fountains, 
and  statues.  I  met  more  than  one  wife  seeking  a  lost 
husband,  and  vice  versa.  Many  persons  were  separated 
from  their  friends,  and  did  not  meet  them  again  till  at 
the  hotels  in  Paris.  In  the  train  returning  to  Paris,  an 
old  gentleman  who  was  seated  near  me  said,  '^I  would 
rest  contented  if  I  thought  I  should  ever  see  my  wife 
again !  " 

At  four  o'clock  we  were  en  route  to  St.  Cloud,  the 
much-loved  and  favorite  residence  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon.  It  seemed  that  all  Paris  had  come  out  to  St. 
Cloud  to  see  how  the  English  and  Americans  would 
enjoy  the  playing  of  the  water-works.  Many  kings  and 
rulers  of  the  French  have  made  St.  Cloud  their  resi- 
dence, but  none  have  impressed  their  image  so  indelibly 
upon-  it  as  Napoleon.  It  was  here  he  was  first  elevated 
to  power,  and  here  Josephine  spent  her  most  happy 
hours. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  79 

s 

The  apartments  where  Napoleon  was  married  to  Marie 
Louise,  the  private  rooms  of  Josephine  and  Marie 
Antoinette,  were  all  in  turn  shown  to  us.  While  stand- 
ing on  the  balcony  looking  at  Paris  one  cannot  wonder 
that  the  emperor  should  have  selected  this  place  as  his 
residence,  for  a  more  lovely  spot  cannot  be  found  than 
St.  Cloud. 

The  palace  is  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  two  leagues  from 
Paris,  and  so  situated  that  it  looks  down  upon  the  French 
capital.  Standing,  as  we  did,  viewing  Paris  from  St. 
Cloud,  and  the  setting  sun  reflecting  upon  the  domes, 
spires,  and  towers  of  the  city  of  fashion,  made  us  feel  that 
this  was  the  place  from  which  the  monarch  should  watch 
his  subjects.  From  the  hour  of  arrival  at  St.  Cloud  till 
near  eight  o'clock,  we  were  either  inspecting  the  splendid 
palace,  or  roaming  the  grounds  and  gardens,  whose  beau- 
tiful walks  and  sweet  flowers  made  it  appear  a  very 
paradise  on  earth. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  water- works  were  put  in  motion, 
and  the  variegated  lamps,  with  their  many  devices,  dis- 
playing flowers,  stars  and  wheels,  all  with  a  brilliancy 
that  can  scarcely  be  described,  seemed  to  throw  every- 
thing in  the  shade  we  had  seen  at  Versailles.  At  nine 
o'clock  the  train  was  announced,  and  after  a  good  deal 
of  jamming  and  pushing  about,  we  were  again  on  the  way 
to  Paris. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

**  Types  of  a  race  who  shall  the  invader  scorn, 
As  rocks  resist  the  billows  round  their  shore  ; 
Types  of  a  race  who  shall  to  time  unborn 
Their  country  leave  unconquered  as  of  yore." 

Campbell. 

I  STARTED  at  an  early  hour  for  the  palace  of  the  Tuil- 
eries.  A  show  of  my  card  of  membership  of  the  Con- 
gress (which  had  carried  me  through  so  many  of  the 
public  buildings)  was  enough  to  gain  me  immediate 
admission.  The  attack  of  the  mob  on  the  palace,  on  the 
20th  of  June,  1792  ;  the  massacre  of  the  Swiss  guard,  on 
the  10  th  of  August  of  the  same  year ;  the  attack  by  the 
people,  in  July,  1830,  together  with  the  recent  flight 
of  King  Louis  Philippe  and  family,  made  me  anxious  to 
visit  the  old  pile. 

We  were  taken  from  room ,  to  room,  until  the  entire 
building  had  been  inspected.  In  front  of  the  Tuileries 
are  a  most  magnificent  garden  and  grounds.  These 
were  all  laid  out  by  Louis  XIV.,  and  are  left  nearly  as 
they  were  during  that  monarch's  reign.  Above  fifty 
acres,  surrounded  by  an  iron  rail-fence,  fronts  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde,  and  affords  a  place  of  promenade  for  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         81 

Parisians.  I  walked  the  grounds,  and  saw  hundreds  of 
well-dressed  persons  under  the  shade  of  the  great  chest- 
nuts, or  sitting  on  chairs,  which  were  kept  to  let  at  two 
sous  a  piece.  Near  by  is  the  Place  de  Carrousel,  noted 
for  its  historical  remembrances.  Many  incidents  con- 
nected with  the  several  revolutions  occurred  here,  and  it 
is  pointed  out  as  the  place  where  Napoleon  reviewed 
that  formidable  army  of  his,  before  its  departure  for 
Russia. 

From  the  Tuileries  I  took  a  stroll  through  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde,  which  has  connected  with  it  so  many 
acts  of  cruelty,  that  it  made  me,  shudder  as  I  passed 
over  its  grounds.  As  if  to  take  from  one's  mind  the  old 
associations  of  this  place,  the  French  have  erected  on  it, 
or  rather  given  a  place  to,  the  celebrated  obelisk  of 
Luxor,  which  now  is  the  chief  attraction  on  the  grounds. 
The  obelisk  was  brought  from  Egypt  at  an  enormous 
expense,  for  which  purpose  a  ship  was  built,  and  several 
hundred  men  employed  above  three  years  in  its  removal. 
It  is  formed  of  the  finest  red  syenite,  and  covered  on 
each  side  with  three  lines  of  hieroglyphic  inscriptions, 
commemorative  of  Sesostris, —  the  middle  lines  being  the 
most  deeply  cut  and  most  carefully  finished ;  and  the 
characters  altogether  number  more  than  sixteen  hun- 
dred. The  obelisk  is  of  a  single  stone,  is  seventy-two 
feet  in  height,  weighs  five  hundred'  thousand  pounds, 
and  stands  on  a  block  of  granite  that  weighs  two  hun- 
dred  and   fifty  thousand   pounds.     He  who   can   read 


82  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

Latin  will  see  that  the  monument  tells  its  own  story,  but 
to  me  its  characters  were  all  blank. 

It  would  be  tedious  to  follow  the  history  of  this  old 
and  venerated  stone,  which  was  taken  from  the  quarry 
fifteen  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ, 
placed  in  Thebes,  its  removal,  the  journey  to  the  Nile, 
and  down  the  Nile,  thence  to  Cherbourg,  and  lastly  its 
arrival  in  Paris  on  the  23d  of  December,  1833, —  just 
one  year  before  I  escaped  from  slavery.  The  obelisk 
was  raised  on  the  spot  where  it  now  stands,  on  the  25th 
of  October,  1836,  in  the  presence  of  Louis  Philippe,  and 
amid  the  greetings  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
persons. 

Having  missed  my  dinner,  I  crossed  over  to  the  Palais 
Royal,  to  a  dining  saloon,  and  can  assure  you  that  a 
better  dinner  may  be  had  there  for  three  francs  than  can 
be  got  in  New  York  for  twice  that  sum,— especially 
if  the  person  who  wants  the  dinner  is  a  colored  man.  I 
found  no  prejudice  against  my  complexion  in  the  Palais 
Royal. 

Many  of  the  rooms  in  this  once  abode  of  royalty  are 
most  splendidly  furnished,  and  decorated  with  valuable 
pictures.  The  likenesses  of  Madame  de  Stael,  J.  J. 
Rousseau,  Cromwell  and  Francis  L,  are  among  them. 

After  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to~day,  in  com- 
pany with  R.  D.  Webb,  Esq.,  to  seek  out  the  house 
where  once  resided  the  notorious  Robespierre,  I  was 
fortunate  Enough  to  find  it,  but  not  until  I  had  lost  the 
company  of  my  friend.     The  house  is  No.  396,  Rue  St. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  83 

HonorGj  opposite  the  Church  of  the  Assumption.  It 
stands  back,  and  is  reached  by  entering  a  court.  Dur- 
ing the  first  revolution  it  was  occupied  by  M.  Duplay, 
"with  Avhom  Robespierre  lodged.  The  room  used  by  the 
great  man  of  the  revolution  was  pointed  out  to  me.  It 
is  small,  and  the  ceiling  low,  with  two  windows  looking 
out  upon  the  court.  The  pin  upon  which  the  blue  coat 
once  hung  is  still  in  the  wall.  While  standing  there,  I 
could  almost  imagine  that  I  saw  the  great  -'Incorrupti- 
ble,'' sitting  at  the  small  table,  composing  those  speeches 
which  gave  him  so  much  power  and  influence  in  the  con- 
vention and  the  clubs. 

Here  the  disciple  of  Eousseau  sat  and  planned  how  he 
should  outdo  his  enemies  and  hold  on  to  his  friends. 
From  this  room  he  went  forth,  followed  by  his  dog 
Brunt,  to  take  his  solitary  walk  in  a  favorite  and  neigh- 
boring field,  or  to  the  fiery  discussions  of  the  National 
Convention.  In  the  same  street  is  the  house  in  which 
Madame  Roland  —  one  of  Robespierre's  victims  — - 
resided. 

A  view  of  the  residence  of  one  of  the  master-spirits  of 
the  French  Revolution  inclined  me  to  search  out  more ; 
and,  therefore,  I  proceeded  to  the  old  town,  and  after 
winding  through  several  small  streets  —  some  of  them  so 
narrow  as  not  to  admit  more  than  one  cab  at  a  time  —  I 
found  myself  in  the  Rue  de  L'Ecole  de  Medecine,  and 
standing  in  front  of  house  No.  20.  This  was  the  resi- 
dence, during  the  early  days  of  the  revolution,  of  that 
blood-thirsty  demon  in  human  form,  Marat. 


84  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

As  this  was  private  property,  my  blue  card  of  mem- 
bership to  the  Congress  was  not  available.  But  after 
slipping  a  franc  into  the  old  lady's  hand 3  I  was  in- 
formed that  I  could  be  admitted.  We  entered  a  court 
and  ascended  a  flight  of  stairs,  the  entrance  to  which  is 
on  the  right ;  then,  crossing  to  the  left,  we  were  shown 
into  a  moderate-sized  room  on  the  first  floor,  with  two 
windows  looking  out  upon  a  yard.  Here  it  was  where 
the  ''Friend  of  the  People"  (as  he  styled  himself)  sat 
and  wrote  those  articles  that  appeared  daily  in  his  jour- 
nal, urging  the  people  to  ''hang  the  rich  upon  lamp- 
posts." The  place  where  the  bath  stood,  in  which  he 
was  bathing  at  the  time  he  was  killed  by  Charlotte  Cor- 
day,  was  pointed  to  us  ;  and  even  something  represent- 
ing an  old  stain  of  blood  was  shown  as  the  place  where 
he  Avas  laid  when  taken  out  of  the  bath.  The  window, 
behind  whose  curtains  the  heroine  hid,  after  she  had 
plunged  the  dagger  into  the  heart  of  the  man  whom  she 
thought  was  the  cause  of  the  shedding  of  so  much  blood 
by  the  guillotine,  was  pointed  out  with  a  seeming  de- 
gree of  pride  by  the  old  woman. 

With  my  Guide  Book  in  hand,  I  again  went  forth  to 
^'hunt  after  new  fancies." 

After  walking  over  the  ground  where  the  guillotine 
once  stood,  cutting  off  its  hundred  and  fifty  heads  per 
day,  and  then  visiting  the  place  where  some  of  the  chief 
movers  in  that  sanguinary  revolution  once  lived,  I  felt 
little  disposed  to  sleep,  when  the  time  for  it  had  arrived. 
However,  I  was  out  the  next  morning  at  an  early  hour, 


PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD.  85 

and  on  the  Champs  Elysees  ;  and  again  took  a  walk  over 
the  place  where  the  guillotine  stood  when  its  fatal  blade 
was  sending  so  many  unprepared  spirits  into  eternity. 
When  standing  here,  you  have  the  palace  of  the  Tuil- 
eries  on  one  side,  the  arch  on  the  other,  on  a  third  the 
classic  Madeleine,  and  on  the  fourth  the  National  As- 
sembly. It  caused  my  blood  to  chill,  the  idea  of  being 
on  the  identical  spot  where  the  heads  of  Louis  XVI.  and 
his  queen,  after  being  cut  off,  were  held  up  to  satisfy 
the  blood-thirsty  curiosity  of  the  two  hundred  thousand 
persons  that  were  assembled  on  the  Place  de  la  Revolu- 
tion. Here  royal  blood  flowed  as  it  never  did  before  or 
since.  The  heads  of  patricians  and  plebeians  were 
thrown  into  the  same  basket,  without  any  regard  to  birth 
or  station.  Here  Robespierre  and  Danton  had  stood 
ao-ain  and  ao-ain,  and  looked  their  victims  in  the  face  as 
they  ascended  the  scaffold ;  and  here  these  same  men 
had  to  mount  the  very  scaffold  that  they  had  erected  for 
others.  I  wandered  up  the  Seine,  till  I  found  myself 
looking  at  the  statue  of  Henry  IV.,  over  the  princi- 
pal entrance  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  When  we  take  into 
account  the  connection  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  with  the 
different  revolutions,  we  must  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  buildings  in  Paris. 
The  room  was  pointed  out  where  Robespierre  held  his 
counsels,  and  from  the  windows  of  which  he  could  look 
out  upon  the  Place  de  Greve,  where  the  guillotine  stood 
before  its  removal  to  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  The 
room  is  large,  with  gilded  hangings,  splendid  old-fash- 
8 


86         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

ioned  chandeliers,  and  a  chimney-piece  with  fine,  anti- 
quated carvings,  that  give  it  a  venerable  appearance. 
Here  Robespierre  not  only  presided  ^t  the  counsels  that 
sent  hundreds  to  the  guillotine,  but  from  this  same  spot 
he,  with  his  brother,  St.  Just  and  others,  were  dragged 
before  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  and  thence  to 
the  guillotine,  and  justice  and  revenge  satisfied. 

The  window  from  which  Lafayette  addressed  the  peo- 
ple in  1880,  and  presented  to  them  Louis  Philippe  as 
the  king,  was  shown  to  us.  Here  the  poet,  statesman, 
philosopher  and  orator,  Lamartine,  stood  in  February, 
1848,  and,  by  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  succeeded  in 
keeping  the  people  quiet.  Here  he  forced  the  mob, 
braved  the  bayonets  presented  to  his  breast,  and,  by  his 
good  reasoning,  induced  them  to  retain  the  tri-colored 
flag,  instead  of  adopting  the  red  flag,  which  he  consid- 
ered the  emblem  of  blood. 

Lamartine  is  a  great  heroic  genius,  dear  to  liberty  and 
to  France ;  and  successive  generations,  as  they  look  back 
upon  the  revolution  of  1848,  will  recall  to  memory  the 
many  dangers  which  nothing  but  his  dauntless  courage 
warded  off.  The  difiiculties  which  his  wisdom  sur- 
mounted, and  the  good  service  that  he  rendered  to 
France,  can  never  be  adequately  estimated,  or  too  highly 
appreciated.  It  was  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  that  the 
republic  of  1848  y/as  proclaimed  to  the  people. 

I  next  paid  my  respects  to  the  Column  of  July,  that 
stands  on  the  spot  formerly  occupied  by  the  Bastile.  It 
is  one  hundred  and  sixty-three  feet  in  height,  and  on  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         87 

top  is  the  Genius  of  Liberty,  with  a  torch  in  his  right 
hand,  and  in  the  left  a  broken  chain.  After  a  fatiguing 
walk  up  a  winding  stair,  I  obtained  a  splendid  view  of 
Paris  from  the  top  of  the  column. 

I  thought  I  should  not  lose  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
the  Church  de  Notre  Dame  while  so  near  to  it,  and, 
therefore,  made  it  my  next  rallying-point.  No  edifice 
connected  with  religion  has  had  more  interesting  inci- 
dents occurring  in  it  than  this  old  church.  Here  Pope 
Pius  VII.  placed  the  imperial  crown  on  the  head  of  the 
Corsican, —  or,  rather.  Napoleon  took  the  crown  from  his 
hands,  and  placed  it  on  his   own  head.     Satan  dragging 

the  wicked  to ,  the   rider   on  ..the  red  horse  at  the 

opening  of  the  second  seal,  the  blessedness  of  the  saints, 
and  several  other  striking  sculptured  figures,  were  among 
the  many  curiosities  in  this  splendid  place.  A  hasty  view 
from  the  gallery  concluded  my  visit  to  the  Notre  Dame. 

Leaving  the  old  church,  I  strayed  off  in  a  direction 
towards  the  Seine,  and  passed  by  an  old-looking  building 
of  stately  appearance,  and  recognized,  among  a  throng 
passing  in  and  out,  a  number  of  the  members  of  the  Peace 
Congress.  I  joined  a  party  entering,  and  was  soon  in 
the  presence  of  men  with  gowns  on,  and  men  with  long 
staffs  in  their  hands,  and,  on  inquiry,  found  that  I  was  in 
the  Palais  de  Justice,  beneath  which  is  the  Conciergerie, 
a  noted  prison.  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette  were 
tried  and  condemned  to  death  here. 

A  bas-relief,  by  Cortat,  representing  Louis  in  confer- 
ence with  his  Council,  is  here  seen.     But  I  had  visited 


88  PEOPLE    AND     PLACES   ABROAD. 

too  many  places  of  interest  during  the  day  to  remain 
long  in  a  building  surrounded  by  officers  of  justice,  and 
took  a  stroll  upon  the  Boulevards. 

The  Boulevards  may  be  termed  the  Regent-street  of 
PariSj  or  a  New  Yorker  would  call  it  Broadway.  While 
passing  a  cafe,  my  German  friend  Faigo,  whose  company 
I  had  enjoyed  during  the  passage  from  America,  recog- 
nized me,  and  I  sat  down  and  took  a  cup  of  delicious 
cofiFee  for  the  first  time  on  the  side-walk,  in  sight  of  hun- 
dreds who  were  passing  up  and  down  the  street  every 
hour.  From  three  till  eleven  o'clock,  p.  M.,  the  Boule- 
vards are  lined  with  men  and  women  sitting  before  the 
doors  of  the  saloons,  drinking  their  coffee  or  wines,  or 
both  at  the  same  time,  as  fancy  may  dictate.  All  Paris 
appeared  to  be  on  the  Boulevards,  and  looking  as  if  the 
great  end  of  this  life  was  enjoyment. 

Anxious  to  see  as  much  as  possible  of  Paris  in  the 
limited  time  I  had  to  stay  in  it,  I  hired  a  cab  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  and  commenced  with  the  Hotel  des 
Invalides,  a  magnificent  building,  within  a  few  minutes' 
walk  of  the  National  Assembly.  On  each  side  of  the 
entrance-gate  are  figures  representing  nations  conquered 
by  Louis  XIV.,  with  colossal  statues  of  Mars  and 
Minerva.  The  dome  on  the  edifice  is  the  loftiest  in 
Paris,  the  height  from  the  ground  being  three  hundred 
and  twenty-three  feet. 

Immediately  below  the  dome  is  the  tomb  of  the  man  -a4; 
whose  word  the  world  turned  pale.     A  statue  of  the 


PEOPLE    AND    PLACES    ABROAD.  89 

Emperor  Napoleon  stands  in  the  second  piazza,  and  is  of 
the  finest  bronze. 

This  building  is  the  home  of  the  pensioned  soldiers  of 
France.  It  was  enough  to  make  one  sick  at  the  idea  of 
war,  to  look  upon  the  mangled  bodies  of  these  old  soldiers. 
Men  with  arms  and  no  legs;  others  had  legs  but  no 
arms ;  some  with  canes  and  crutches,  and  some  wheeling 
themselves  about  in  little  hand-carts.  About  three 
thousand  of  the  decayed  soldiers  were  lodged  in  the 
Hotel  des  Invalides,  at  the  time  of  my  visit.  Passing 
the  National  Assembly  on  my  return,  I  spent  a  moment 
or  two  in  it.  The  interior  of  this  building  resembles  an 
amphitheatre.  It  is  constructed  to  accommodate  nine 
hundred  members,  each  having  a  separate  desk.  The 
seat  upon  which  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  and  her  son,  the 
Comte  de  Paris,  sat,  when  they  visited  the  National 
Assembly  after  the  flight  of  Louis  Philippe,  was  shown 
with  considerable  alacrity.  As  I  left  the  building,  I 
heard  that  the  president  of  the  republic  was  on  the  point 
of  leaving  the  Elysee  for  St.  Cloud,  and,  with  the  hope 
of  seeing  the  -'prisoner  of  Ham,"  I  directed  my  cabman 
to  drive  me  to  the  Elysee. 

In  a  few  moments  we  were  between  two  files  of  sol- 
diers, and  entering  the  gates  of  the  palace.  I  called  out 
to  the  driver,  and  told  him  to  stop  ;  but  I  was  too  late, 
for  we  were  now  in  front  of  the  massive  doors  of  the  pal- 
ace, and  a  liveried  servant  opened  the  cab  door,  bowed, 
and  asked  if  I  had  an  engagement  with  the  president. 
You  may  easily  ^' guess''  his  surprise  when  I  told  him 
8^ 


90         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

no.  In  my  best  French  I  asked  the  cabman  why  he  had 
come  to  the  palace,  and  was  answered,  ^'You  told  me 
to."  By  this  time  a  number  had  gathered  xound,  all 
making  inquiries  as  to  what  I  wanted.  I  told  the  driver 
to  retrace  his  steps,  and,  amid  the  shrugs  of  their  shoul- 
ders, the  nods  of  their  heads,  and  the  laughter  of  the 
soldiers,  I  left  the  Elysee  without  even  a  sight  of  the 
president's  moustache  for  my  trouble.  This  w^as  only 
one  of  the  many  mistakes  I  made  while  in  Paris. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

**  The  moon  on  the  east  oriel  shone 
Through  slender  shafts  of  shapely  stone, 

By  foliaged  tracery  combined. 
Thou  wouldst  have  thought  some  fairy's  hand 
'Twixt  poplars  straight  the  osier  wand 
In  many  a  freakish  knot  had  twined  : 
Then  framed  a  spell,  when  the  work  was  done. 
And  changed  the  willow  wreaths  to  stone." 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Here  I  am,  within  ten  leagues  of  Paris,  spending  the 
time  pleasantly  in  viewing  the  palace  and  grounds  of  the 
great  chateau  of  Louis  XIV.  Fifty-seven  years  ago,  a 
mob,  composed  of  men,  women  and  boys,  from  Paris, 
stood  in  front  of  this  palace,  and  demanded  that  the  king 
should  go  with  them  to  the  capital.  I  have  walked  over 
the  same  ground  where  the  one  hundred  thousand  stood 
on  that  interesting  occasion.  I  have  been  upon  the  same 
balcony,  and  stood  by  the  window  from  which  Marie 
Antoinette  looked  out  upon  the  mob  that  were  seeking 
her  life. 

Anxious  to  see  as  much  of  the  palace  as  I  could,  and 
having  an  offer  of  the  company  of  my  young  friend, 
Henry  G.  Chapman,  to  go  through  the  palace  with  me,  I 


92         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

set  out  early  this  morning,  and  was  soon  in  the  halls  that 
had  often  been  trod  by  royal  feet.  We  passed  through 
the  private  as  well  as  the  public  apartments;  through 
the  secret  door  by  which  Marie  Antoinette  had  escaped 
from  the  mob  of  1792  ;  and  viewed  the  room  in  which  her 
faithful  guards  were  killed,  while  attempting  to  save  their 
royal  mistress.  I  took  my  seat  in  one  of  the  little  parlor 
carriages  that  had  been  used  in  days  of  yore  for  the  royal 
children,  while  my  friend  H.  G.  Chapman  drew  me 
across  the  room.  The  superb  apartments  are  not  now  in 
use.  Silence  is  written  upon  these  walls,  although  upon 
them  are  suspended  the  portraits  of  men  of  whom  the 
world  has  heard. 

Paintings  representing  Napoleon  in  nearly  all  his  bat- 
tles are  here  seen ;  and,  wherever  you  see  the  emperor, 
there  you  will  also  find  Murat,  with  his  white  plume 
waving  above.  Callot's  painting  of  the  battle  of  Ma- 
rengo, Hue's  of  the  retaking  of  Genoa,  and  Bouchat's 
of  the  18th  Brumaire,  are  of  the  highest  order ;  while 
David  has  transmitted  his  fame  to  posterity  by  his 
splendid  painting  of  the  coronation  of  Napoleon  and  Jo- 
sephine in  Notre  Dame.  When  I  looked  upon  the  many 
beautiful  paintings  of  the  last-named  artist  that  adorn 
the  halls  of  Versailles,  I  did  not  wonder  that  his  fame 
should  have  saved  his  life  when  once  condemned  and 
sentenced  to  death  during  the  reign  of  terror.  The  guiL 
lotine  was  robbed  of  its  intended  victim ;  but  the  world 
gained  a  great  painter.  As  Boswell  transmitted  his  own 
name  to  posterity  with  his  life  of  Johnson,  so  has  David 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         93 

left  his  with  the  magnificent  paintings  that  are  now  sus- 
pended upon  the  walls  of  the  palaces  of  the  Louvre,  the 
Tuileries,  St.  Cloudj  Versailles,  and  even  the  little 
Elysee. 

After  strolling  from  room  to  room,  we  found  ourselves 
in  the  Salle  du  Sacre,  Diane,  Salon  de  Mars,  de  Mer- 
eure,  and  D'ApoUon.  I  gazed  with  my  eyes  turned  to 
the  ceiling  till  I  was  dizzy.  The  Salon  de  la  Guerre  is 
covered  with  the  most  beautiful  representations  that  the 
mind  of  man  could  conceive,  or  the  hand  accomplish. 
Louis  XIV.  is  here  in  all  his  glory.  No  Marie  Antoi- 
nette will  ever  do  the  honors  in  these  halls  again. 

After  spending  a  whole  day  in  the  palace,  and  several 
mornings  in  the  gardens,  I  finally  bade  adieu  to  the 
bronze  statue  of  Louis  XIV.  that  stands  in  front  of  the 
palace,  and  left  Versailles,  probably  forever. 

I  am  now  on  the  point  of  quitting  the  French  metrop- 
olis. I  have  occupied  the  last  two  days  in  visiting  places 
of  note  in  the  city.  I  could  not  resist  the  inclination  to 
pay  a  second  visit  to  the  Louvre.  Another  hour  was 
spent  in  strolling  through  the  Italian  Hall,  and  viewing 
the  master  workmanship  of  Raphael,  the  prince  of  paint- 
ers. Time  flies,  even  in  such  a  place  as  the  Louvre, 
with  all  its  attractions ;  and,  before  I  had  seen  half  that 
I  wished,  a  ponderous  clock  near  by  reminded  me  of 
an  engagement,  and  I  reluctantly  tore  myself  from  the 
splendors  of  the  place. 

During  the  rest  of  the  day  I  visited  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes,    and   spent   an   hour  and  a  half  pleasantly  in 


94         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

walking  among  plants,  flowers,  and,  in  fact,  everything 
that  could  be  found  in  any  garden  in  France.  From 
this  place  we  paid  our  respects  to  the  Bourse,  or  Ex- 
change, one  of  the  most  superb  buildings  in  the  city. 
The  ground  floor  and  sides  of  the  Bourse  are  of  fine 
marble,  and  the  names  of  the  chief  cities  in  the  world  are 
inscribed  on  the  medallions  which  are  under  the  upper 
cornice.  The  interior  of  the  edifice  has  a  most  splendid 
appearance  as  you  enter  it. 

The  cemetery  of  Pere  la  Chaise  was  too  much  talked 
of  by  many  of  our  party  at  the  hotel  for  me  to  pass  it 
by ;  so  I  took  it,  after  the  Bourse.  Here  lie  many  of 
the  great  marshals  of  France,  the  resting-place  of  each 
marked  by  the  monument  that  stands  over  it,  except  one, 
which  is  marked  only  by  a  weeping  willow  and  a  plain 
stone  at  its  head.  This  is  the  grave  of  Marshal  Ney.  I 
should  not  have  known  that  it  was  his,  but  some  unknown 
hand  had  written,  with  black  paint,  ^'Bravest  of  the 
Brave,"  on  the  unlettered  stone  that  stands  at  the  head 
of  the  man  who  followed  Napoleon  through  nearly  all  his 
battles,  and  who  was  shot,  after  the  occupation  of  Paris 
by  the  allied  army.  Peace  to  his  ashes  !  During  my 
ramble  through  this  noted  place,  I  saw  several  who  were 
hanging  fresh  wreaths  of  ^'everlasting  flowers''  on  the 
tombs  of , the  departed. 

A  ride  in  an  omnibus  down  the  Boulevards,  and  away 
up  the  Champs  Elysees,  brought  me  to  the  Arc  de  Tri- 
omphe ;  and,  after  ascending  a  flight  of  one  hundred  and 
sixty-one  steps,  I  was  overlooking  the  city  of  statuary. 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  95 

This  stupendous  monument  was  commenced  by  Napoleon 
in  1806  ;  and  in  1811  it  had  only  reached  the  cornice  of 
the  base,  where  it  stopped,  and  it  was  left  for  Louis 
Philippe  to  finish.  The  first  stone  of  this  monument 
was  laid  on  the  15th  of  August,  1806,  the  birth-day  of 
the  man  whose  battles  it  was  intended  to  commemorate. 
A  model  of  the  arch  was  erected  for  Napoleon  to  pass 
through  as  he  was  entering  the  city  with  Maria  Louisa, 
after  their  marriage.  The  inscriptions  on  the  monument 
are  many,  and  the  different  scenes  here  represented  are 
all  of  the  most  exquisite  workmanship.  The  genius  of 
War  is  summoning  the  obedient  nations  to  battle.  Vic- 
tory is  here  crowning  Napoleon  after  his  great  success  in 
1810.  Fame  stands  here  recording  the  exploits  of  the 
warrior,  while  conquered  cities  lie  beneath  the  whole. 
Eut  it  would  take  more  time  than  I  have  at  command  to 
give  anything  like  a  description  of  this  magnificent  piece 
of  architecture. 

That  which  seems  to  take  most  with  Peace  Friends  is 
the  portion  representing  an  old  man  taming  a  bull  for 
agricultural  labor;  while  a  young  warrior  is  sheathing 
his  sword,  a  mother  and  children  sitting  at  his  feet,  and 
Minerva,  crowned  with  laurels,  stands  shedding  her  pro- 
tecting influence  over  them.  The  erection  of  this  regal 
monument  is  wonderful,  to  hand  down  to  posterity  the 
triumphs  of  the  man  whom  we  first  hear  of  as  a  student 
in  the  military  school  at  Brienne  ;  whom  in  1784  we  see 
in  the  Ecole  Militaire,  founded  by  Louis  XV.  in  1751; 
whom  again  we  find  at  No.  5  Quai  de  Court,  near  Rue 


96         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

de  Mail ;  and  in  1794  as  a  lodger  at  No.  19  Rue  de  la 
Michandere.  From  this  he  goes  to  the  Hotel  Mirabeau, 
Rue  du  Dauphin,  where  he  resided  when  he  defeated  his 
enemies  on  the  13th  Vendemaire.  The  Hotel  de  la  Co- 
lonade,  Rue  Neuve  des  Capuchins,  is  his  next  residence, 
and  where  he  was  married  to  Josephine.  From  this  hotel 
he  removed  to  his  wife's  dwelling  in  the  Rue  Chanteriene, 
No.  52.  In  1796  the  young  general  started  for  Italy, 
where  his  conquests  paved  the  way  for  the  ever-memora- 
ble 18th  Brumaire,  that  made  him  Dictator  of  France. 
Napoleon  was  too  great  now  to  be  satisfied  with  private 
dwellings,  and  we  next  trace  him  to  the  Elysee,  St.  Cloud, 
Versailles,  the  Tuileries,  Fontainebleau,  and,  finally,  came 
his  decline,  which  I  need  not  relate  to  you. 

After  visiting  the  Gobelins,  passing  through  its  many 
rooms,  seeing  here  and  there  a  half-finished  piece  of 
tapestry,  and  meeting  a  number  of  the  members  of  the 
late  Peace  Congress,  who,  like  myself,  had  remained  be- 
hind to  see  more  of  the  beauties  of  the  French  capital 
than  could  be  seen  during  the  Convention  week,  I 
accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  with  a  German  gentleman 
at  the  Palais  Royal,  and  was  soon  revelling  amid  the 
luxuries  of  the  table.  I  was  glad  that  I  had  gone  to  the 
Palais  Royal,  for  here  I  had  the  honor  of  an  introduction 
to  M.  Beranger,  the  poet ;  and,  although  I  had  to  con- 
verse with  him  through  an  interpreter,  I  enjoyed  his 
company  very  much.  ^'  The  people's  poet,"  as  he  is 
called,  is  apparently  about  seventy  years  of  age,  bald  on 
the  top  of  the  head,  and  rather  corpulent,  but  of  active 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABllOAD,  97 

look,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  good  health.  Few  writers 
in  France  have  done  better  service  to  the  cause  of  politi- 
cal and  religious  freedom  than  Pierre  Jean  de  Beranger. 
He  is  the  dauntless  friend  and  advocate  of  the  down- 
trodden poor  and  oppressed,  and  has  often  incurred  the 
displeasure  of  the  government  by  the  arrows  that  he  has 
thrown  into  their  camp.  He  felt  what  he  wrote  ;  it  came 
straight  from  his  heart,  and  went  directly  to  the  hearts  of 
the  people.  He  expressed  himself  strongly  opposed  to 
slavery,  and  said,  ^'I  don't  see  how  the  Americans  can 
reconcile  slavery  with  their  professed  love  of  freedom." 
Dinner  out  of  the  way,  a  walk  through  the  different 
aparcments,  and  a  stroll  over  the  court,  and  I  bade  adieu 
to  the  Palais  Royal,  satisfied  that  I  should  partake  of 
many  worse  dinners  than  I  had  helped  to  devour  that 
day. 

Few  nations  are  more  courteous  than  the  French. 
Here,  the  stranger,  let  him  come  from  what  country  he 
may,  and  be  ever  so  unacquainted  with  the  people  and 
language,  is  sure  of  a  civil  reply  to  any  question  that 
he  may  ask.  With  the  exception  of  the  egregious  blunder 
I  have  mentioned  of  the  cabman  driving  me  to  the  Elysee, 
I  was  not  laughed  at  once  while  in  France. 
9 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

i 

"  There  was  not,  on  that  day,  a  speck  to  stain 
The  azure  heavens  ;  the  blessed  sun  alone, 
In  unapproachable  divinity, 
Careered  rejoicing  in  the  field  of  light." 

SOUTHEY. 

The  sun  had  just  appeared  from  behind  a  cloud  and 
was  setting,  and  its  reflection  upon  the  domes  and  spires 
of  the  great  buildings  in  Paris  made  everything  appear 
lovely  and  sublime,  as  the  train,  with  almost  lightning- 
speed,  was  bringing  me  from  the  French  metropolis.  I 
gazed  with  eager  eyes  to  catch  a  farewell  glance  of  the 
tops  of  the  regal  palaces  through  which  I  had  passed 
during  a  stay  of  fifteen  days  in  the  French  capital. 

A  pleasant  ride  of  four  hours  brought  us  to  Boulogne, 
w^here  we  rested  for  the  night.  The  next  morning  I  was 
up  at  an  early  hour,  and  out  viewing  the  town.  Bou- 
logne could  present  but  little  attraction  after  a  fortnight 
spent  in  seeing  the  lions  of  Paris.  A  return  to  the  hotel, 
and  breakfast  over,  we  stepped  on  board  the  steamer,  and 
were  soon  crossing  the  channel.  Two  hours  more,  and  I 
was  safelj  seated  in  a  railway  carriage,  en  route  to  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  99 

English  metropolis.  We  reached  London  at  mid-day, 
where  I  was  soon  comfortably  lodged  at  22  Cecil-street, 
Strand.  As  it  was  three  o'clock,  I  lost  no  time  in  seeking 
out  a  dining  saloon,  which  I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding 
in  the  Strand.  It  being  the  first  house  of  the  kind  I  had 
entered  in  London,  I  was  not  a  little  annoyed  at  the 
politeness  of  the  waiter.  The  first  salutation  I  had,  after 
seating  myself  in  one  of  the  stalls,  was,  ^^  Ox  tail,  sir; 
gravy  soup;  carrot  soup,  sir;  roast  beef;  roast  pork; 
boiled  beef;  roast  lamb;  boiled  leg^of  mutton,  sir,  with 
caper  sauce;  jugged  hare,  sir;  boiled  knuckle  of  veal 
and  J)acon ;  roast  turkey  and  oyster  sauce ;  sucking  pig, 
sir;  curried  chicken;  harrico  mutton,  sir."  These,  and 
many  other  dishes,  which  I  have  forgotten,  were  called 
over  with  a  rapidity  that  would  have  done  credit  to  one 
of  our  Yankee  pedlers  in  crying  his  wares  in  a  New 
England  village.  I  was  so  completely  taken  by  surprise, 
that  I  asked  for  a  ^'  bill  of  fare,"  and  told  him  to  leave 
me.  No  city  in  the  world  furnishes  a  cheaper,  better, 
and  quicker  meal  for  the  weary  traveller,  than  a  London 
eating-house. 

M,  M,  Ji.  M,  -^  -^ 

-j^  -TT  "TT  ^  -fr  'fr 

A  few  days  after  my  arrival  in  London,  I  received  an 
invitation  from  John  Lee,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  whom  I  had 
met  at  the  Peace  Congress  in  Paris,  to  pay  him  a  visit  at 
his  seat,  near  Aylesbury;  and  as  the  time  was  ^^  fixed" 
by  the  doctor,  I  took  the  train  on  the  appointed  day,  on 
my  way  to  Hartwell  House. 

I  had  heard  much  of  the  aristocracy  of  England,  and 


100  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

must  confess  that  I  was  not  a  little  prejudiced  against 
them.  On  a  bright  sunshiny  day,  between  the  hours  of 
twelve  and  two,  I  found  myself  seated  in  a  carriage,  my 
back  turned  upon  Aylesbury,  the  vehicle  whirling  rapidly 
over  the  smooth  macadamised  road,  and  I  on  my  first 
visit  to  an  English  gentleman.  Twenty  minutes'  ride, 
and  a  turn  to  the  right,  and  we  were  amid  the  fine  old 
trees  of  Hartwell  Park ;  one  having  suspended  from  its 
branches  the  national  banners  of  several  difierent  coun- 
tries, among  them  the  '^  Stars  and  Stripes."  I  felt 
glad  that  my  own  country's  flag  had  a  place  there, 
although  Campbell's  lines  — 

**  United  States,  your  banner  wears 

Two  emblems,  —  one  of  fame  ; 
Alas  !  the  other  that  it  bears 

Eeminds  ns  of  your  shame  ! 
The  white  man's  liberty  in  types 

Stands  blazoned  by  your  stars  ; 
But  what 's  the  meaning  of  your  stripes  ?  — 

They  mean  your  Negro-scars  "  — 

were  at  the  time  continually  ^running  through  my  mind. 
Arrived  at  the  door,  and  we  received  what  every  one 
'does  who  visits  Dr.  Lee  —  a  hearty  welcome.  I  was  im- 
mediately shown  into  a  room  with  a  lofty  ceiling,  hung 
round  with  fine  specimens  of  the  Italian  masters,  and  told 
that  this  was  my  apartment.  Hartwell  House  stands  in 
an  extensive  park,  shaded  with  trees  that  made  me  think 
of  the  oaks  and  elms  in  an  American  forest,  and  many 
of  whose  limbs  had  been  trimmed  and  nursed  with  the 
best  of  fare.     This  was  for  several  years  the  residence  of 


PLACES    AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  101 

John  Hampden  tlie  patriot,  and  more  recently  that  of 
Louis  XVIII.,  during  his  exile  in  this  country.  The 
house  is  built  on  a  very  extensive  scale,  and  is  orna- 
mented in  the  interior  with  carvings  in  wood  of  many  of 
the  kings  and  princes  of  bygone  centuries.  A  room 
some  sixty  feet  by  twenty- five  contains  a  variety  of 
articles  that  the  doctor  has  collected  together  —  the  vf hole 
forming  a  museum  that  vfould  be  considered  a  sight  in 
the  Western  States  of  America. 

The  morning  after  my  arrival  at  Hartwell  I  was  up  at 
an  early  hour  —  in  fact,  before  any  of  the  servants  — 
wandering  about  through  the  vast  halls,  and  trying  to 
find  my  way  out ;  in  which  I  eventually  succeeded,  but 
not,  however,  without  aid.  It  had  rained  the  previous 
night,  and  the  sun  was  peeping  through  a  misty  cloud  as 
I  strolled  through  the  park,  listening  to  the  sweet  voices 
of  the  birds  that  were  fluttering  in  the  tops  of  the  trees, 
and  trimming  their  wings  for  a  morning  flight.  The 
silence  of  the  night  had  not  yet  been  broken  by  the  voice 
of  man ;  and  I  wandered  about  the  vast  park  unannoyed, 
except  by  the  dew  from  the  grass  that  wet  my  slippers. 
Not  far  from  the  house  I  came  abruptly  upon  a  beautiful 
little  pond  of  water,  where  the  gold-fish  were  flouncing 
about,  and  the  gentle  ripples  glittering  in  the  sunshine 
looked  like  so  many  silver  minnows  playing  on  the  sur- 
face. 

While  strolling  about  with  pleasure,  and  only  regret- 
ting that  my  dear  daughters  were  not  with  me  to  enjoy 
the  morning's  walk,  I  saw  the  gardener  on  his  way  to 
9^ 


102  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

the  garden.  I  followed  him,  and  was  soon  feasting  my 
eyes  upon  the  richest  specimens  of  garden  scenery. 
There  were  the  peaches  hanging  upon  the  trees  that  were 
fastened  to  the  wall ;  vegetables,  fruit  and  flowers,  were 
there  in  all  their  bloom  and  beauty  ;  and  even  the  varie- 
gated geranium  of  a  warmer  clime  w^as  there  in  its  hot- 
house home,  and  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  it  was  in 
a  different  country  from  its  own.  Dr.  Lee  shows  great 
taste  in  the  management  of  his  garden.  I  have  seldom 
seen  a  more  splendid  variety  of  fruits  and  flowers  in  the 
Southern  States  of  America  than  I  saw  at  Hartwell 
House. 

I  should,  however,  state  that  I  was  not  the  only  guest 
at  Hartwell  during  my  stay.  Dr.  Lee  had  invited 
several  others  of  the  American  delegation  to  the  Peace 
Congress,  and  two  or  three  of  the  French  delegates,  who 
were  on  a  visit  to  England,  were  enjoying  the  doctor's 
hospitality.  Dr.  Lee  is  a  stanch  friend  of  Temperance, 
as  well  as  of  the  cause  of  universal  freedom.  Every 
year  he  treats  his  tenantry  to  a  dinner,  and  I  need  not 
add  that  these  are  always  conducted  on  the  principle  of 
total  abstinence. 

During  the  second  day  we  visited  several  of  the  cot- 
tages of  the  work-people,  and  in  these  I  took  no  little 
interest.  The  people  of  the  United  States  know  nothing 
of  the  real  condition  of  the  laboring  classes  of  England. 
The  peasants  of  Great  Britain  are  always  spoken  of  as 
belonging  to  the  soil.  I  was  taught  in  America  that  the 
English  laborer  was  no  better  off  than  the  slave  upon  a 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         108 

Carolina  rice-field.  I  had  seen  the  slaves  in  Missouri 
huddled  together,  three,  four,  and  even  five  families  in  a 
single  room,  not  more  than  fifteen  by  twenty-five  feet 
square,  and  I  expected  to  see  the  same  in  England.  But 
in  this  I  Avas  disappointed.  After  visiting  a  new  house 
that  the  doctor  was  building,  he  took  us  into  one  of  the 
cottages  that  stood  near  the  road,  and  gave  us  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing,  for  the  first  time,  an  English  peasant's 
cot.  We  entered  a  low,  whitewashed  room,  with  a  stone 
floor  that  showed  an  admirable  degree  of  cleanness. 
Before  us  was  a  row  of  shelves  filled  with  earthen  dishes 
and  pewter  spoons,  glittering  as  if  they  had  just  come 
from  under  the  hand  of  a  woman  of  taste.  A  ^^Cobden 
loaf  of  bread,  that  had  just  been  left  by  the  baker's 
boy,  lay  upon  an  oaken  table  which  had  been  much  worn 
away  with  the  scrubbing-brush ;  while  just  above  lay 
the  old  family  Bible,  that  had  been  handed  down 
from  father  to  son,  until  its  possession  was  consid- 
ered of  almost  as  great  value  as  its  contents.  A  half- 
open  door,  leading  into  another  room,  showed  us  a  clean 
bed  ;  the  whole  presenting  as  fine  a  picture  of  neatness, 
order  and  comfort,  as  the  most  fastidious  taste  could 
wish  to  see.  No  occupant  was  present,  and  therefore  I 
inspected  everything  with  a  greater  degree  of  freedom. 
^^  In  front  of  the  cottage  was  a  small  grass-plot,  with 
here  and  there  a  bed  of  flowers,  cheated  out  of  its  share 
of  sunshine  by  the  tall  holly  that  had  been  planted  near 
it."  As  I  looked  upon  the  home  of  the  laborer,  my 
thoughts  were  with  my  enslaved  countrymen.     What  a 


104  PLACES   ANL>    PEOPLE    ABROAD. 

difference,  thought  I,  there  is  betv/een  the  tillers  of  the 
soil  in  England  and  America  !  There  could  not  be 
a  more  complete  refutation  of  the  assertion  that  the 
English  laborer  is  no  better  off  than  the  American  slave, 
than  the  scenes  that  were  then  before  me.  I  called  the 
attention  of  one  of  my  American  friends  to  a  beautiful 
rose  near  the  door  of  the  cot,  and  said  to  him,  ^'  The  law 
that  will  protect  that  flower  will  also  guard  and  protect 
the  hand  that  planted  it."  He  knew  that  I  had  drank 
deep  of  the  cup  of  slavery,  was  aware  of  what  I  meant, 
and  merely  nodded  his  head  in  reply.  I  never  experi- 
enced hospitality  more  genuine,  and  yet  more  unpretend- 
ing, than  was  meted  out  to  me  w^hile  at  Hartwell.  And 
the  favorable  impression  made  on  my  own  mind  by  the 
distinguished  proprietor  of  Hartwell  Park  was  nearly  as 
indelible  as  my  humble  name  that  the  doctor  had  en- 
graven in  a  brick,  in  a  vault  beneath  the  Observatory  in 
Hartwell  House. 

On  my  return  to  London  I  accepted  an  invitation  to 
join  a  party  on  a  visit  to  Windsor  Castle  ;  and,  taking  the 
train  at  the  Waterloo  Bridge  Station,  we  were  soon  pass- 
ing through  a  pleasant  part  of  the  country.  Arrived 
at  the  castle,  we  committed  ourselves  into  the  hands  of 
the  servants,  and  were  introduced  into  Her  Majesty's 
State  Apartments,  Audience  Chamber,  Vandyck  Eoom, 
Waterloo  Chambers,  Gold  Pantry,  and  many  others 
whose  names  I  have  forgotten.  In  wandering  about  the 
different  apartments  I  lost  my  company,  and  in  trying  to 
find  them  passed  through  a  room  in  which  hung  a  mag- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        105 

nificent  portrait  of  Charles  I.,  by  Vandjck.  The  hum 
and  noise  of  my  companions  had  ceased,  and  I  had  the 
scene  and  silence  to  myself  I  looked  in  vain  for  the 
king's  evil  genius  (Cromwell),  but  he  was  not  in  the 
same  room.  The  pencil  of  Sir  Peter  Lely  has  left  a 
splendid  full-length  likeness  of  James  II.  George  IV.  is 
suspended  from  a  peg  in  the  wall,  looking  as  if  it  w^as 
fresh  from  the  hands  of  Sir  Thomas  Lavfrence,  its  ad- 
mirable painter.  I  was  now  in  St.  George's  Hall,  and  I 
gazed  upward  to  view  the  beautiful  figures  on  the  ceil- 
ing until  my  neck  was  nearly  out  of  joint.  Leaving  this 
room,  I  inspected  with  interest  the  ancient  keep  of  the 
castle.  In  past  centuries  this  part  of  the  palace  was 
used  as  a  prison.  Here  James  the  First  of  Scotland 
was  detained  a  prisoner  for  eighteen  years.  I  viewed  the 
window  through  which  the  young  prince  had  often  looked 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  young  and  beautiful  Lady  Jane, 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Somerset,  with  whom  he  was 
enamored. 

From  the  top  of  the  Round  Tower  I  had  a  fine  view 
of  the  surrounding  country.  Stoke  Park,  once  the 
residence  of  that  great  friend  of  humanity  and  civiliza- 
tion, William  Penn,  was  among  the  scenes  that  I  beheld 
with  pleasure  from  Windsor  Castle.  Four  years  ago, 
when  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  and  hunting  up  the 
places  associated  with  the  name  of  this  distinguished 
man,  and  more  recently  when  walking  over  the  farm 
once  occupied  by  him,  examining  the  old  malt-house 
which  is  now  left   standing,   because  of  the  veneration 


106  PLACES  AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

■with  which  the  name  of  the  man  who  built  it  is  held,  I 
had  no  idea  that  I  should  ever  see  the  dw^elling  which  he 
had  occupied  in  the  Old  World.  Stoke  Park-  is  about 
four  miles  from  Windsor,  and  is  now  owned  by  the  Right 
Hon.  Henry  Labouchere. 

The  castle,  standing  as  it  does  on  an  eminence,  and 
surrounded  by  a  beautiful  valley  covered  with  splendid 
villas,  has  a  most  magnificent  appearance.  It  rears  its 
massive  towers  and  irregular  w^alls  over  and  above  every 
other  object.  How  full  this  old  palace  is  of  material  for 
thought !  How  one  could  ramble  here  alone,  or  with 
one  or  two  congenial  companions,  and  enjoy  a  recapitula- 
tion of  its  history  !  But  an  engagement  to  be  at  Croj^- 
don  in  the  evening  cut  short  my  stay  at  Windsor,  and 
compelled  me  to  return  to  town  in  advance  of  my  party. 

^  :^  -^<  ^  ^k  ^ 

Having  met  with  John  Morland,  Esq.,  at  Paris,  he  gave 
me  an  invitation  to  visit  Croydon,  and  deliver  a  lecture 
on  American  Slavery;  and  last  evening,  at  eight  o'clock, 
I  found  myself  in  a  fine  old  building  in  the  town,  and 
facing  the  first  English  audience  that  I  had  seen  in  the 
sea-girt  isle.  It  was  my  first  welcome  in  England. 
The  assembly  was  an  enthusiastic  one,  and  made  still 
more  so  by  the  appearance  of  George  Thompson,  Esq., 
M.  P.,  upon  the  platform.  It  is  not  my  intention  to 
give  accounts  of  my  lectures  or  meetings  in  these  pages. 
I  therefore  merely  say  that  I  left  Croydon  with  a  good 
impression  of  the   English,  and  Heath  Lodge  with   a 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        107 

feeling  that  its  occupant  was  one  of  the  most  benevolent 
of  men. 

The  same  party  with  whom  I  visited  Windsor  being 
supplied  with  a  card  of  admission  to  the  Bank  of  Eng- 
land, I  accepted  an  invitation  to  be  one  of  the  company. 
We  entered  the  vast  building  at  a  little  past  twelve 
o'clock.  The  sun  threw  into  the  large  halls  a  brilliancy 
that  seemed  to  light  up  the  countenances  of  the  almost 
countless  number  of  clerks,  who  were  at  their  desks,  or 
serving  persons  at  the  counters.  As  nearly  all  my 
countrymen  w^ho  visit  London  pay  their  respects  to  this 
noted  institution,  I  shall  sum  up  my  visit  to  it  by  say- 
ing that  it  surpassed  my  highest  idea  of  a  bank.  But  a 
stroll  through  this  monster  building  of  gold  and  silver 
brought  to  my  mind  an  incident  with  which  I  was  con- 
nected a  year  after  my  escape  from  slavery. 

In  the  autumn  of  1835,  having  been  cheated  out  of 
the  previous  summer's  earnings  by  the  captain  of  the 
steamer  in  which  I  had  been  employed  running  away 
with  the  money,  I  was,  like  the  rest  of  the  men,  left 
without  any  means  of  support  during  the  winter,  and 
therefore  had  to  seek  employment  in  the  neighboring 
tow^ns.  I  went  to  the  town  of  Monroe,  in  the  State  of 
Michigan,  and  while  going  through  the  principal  street 
looking  for  work,  I  passed  the  door  of  the  only  barber  in 
the  toAvn,  whose  shop  appeared  to  be  filled  with  persons 
waiting  to  be  shaved.  As  there  was  but  one  man  at 
work,  and  as  I  had,  while  employed  in  the  steamer, 
occasionally  shaved  a  gentleman  who  could  not  perform 


108        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

that  office  himselfj  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  get 
employment  here  as  a  journeyman  barber.     I  therefore 
made  immediate  application  for  work,  but  the  barber  told 
me  he  did  not  need  a  hand.     But  I  was  not  to  be  put 
off  so  easily,  and,  after  making  several  offers  to  work 
cheap,  I  frankly  told  him  that  if  he  would  not  employ 
me  I  would  get  a  room  near  to  him,  and  set  up  an  oppo- 
sition   establishment.     This   threat,   however,   made   no 
impression  on  the  barber ;  and,  as  I  was  leaving,  one  of 
the  men  who  were  waiting  to  be  shaved  said,   ^'If  you 
want  a  room  in  which  to  commence  business,  I  have  one 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street."     This  man  followed 
me  out ;  we  went  over,  and  I  looked  at  the  room.     He 
strongly  urged  me  to  set  up,  at  the  same  time  promising 
to  give  me  his  influence.     I  took  the  room,  purchased  an 
old  table,  two  chairs,  got  a  pole  with  a  red  stripe  painted 
around  it,  and  the  next  day  opened,  with  a  sign  over  the 
door,   '^Fashionable  Hair-dresser  from  New  York,  Em- 
peror of  the  West."     I  need  not  add  that  my  enterprise 
was  very  annoying  to   the    '^  shop   over  the  way," — 
especially  my   sign,   which   happened   to   be   the   most 
expensive  part  of  the  concern.     Of  course,  I  had  to  tell 
all  who  came  in  that  my  neighbor  on  the  opposite  side 
did  not  keep  clean  towels,  that  his  razors  were  dull,  and, 
above  all,  he  had  never  been  to  Ncav  York  to  see  the 
fashions.     Neither  had  I.     In  a  few  weeks  I  had  the 
entire  business  of  the  town,  to  the  great  discomfiture  of 
the  other  barber. 

At  this  time,  money  matters  in  the  Western  States 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        109 

were  in  a  sad  condition.  Any  person  who  could  raise  a 
small  amount  of  money  was  permitted  to  establish  a 
bank,  and  allowed  to  issue  notes  for  four  times  the  sum 
raised.  This  being  the  case,  many  persons  borrowed 
money  merely  long  enough  to  exhibit  to  the  bank  in- 
spectors, and  the  borrowed  money  was  returned,  and  the 
bank  left  without  a  dollar  in  its  vaults,  if,  indeed,  it  had 
a  vault  about  its  premises.  The  result  was,  that  banks 
were  started  all  over  the  Western  States,  and  the  coun- 
try flooded  with  worthless  paper.  These  were  known  as 
the  ''Wild-cat  Banks."  Silver  coin  being  very  scarce, 
and  the  banks  not  being  allowed  to  issue  notes  for  a 
smaller  amount  than  one  dollar,  several  persons  put  out 
notes  from  six  to  seventy-five  cents  in  value ;  these  were 
called  "  Shinplasters."  The  Shinplaster  was  in  the 
shape  of  a  promissory  note,  made  payable  on  demand. 
I  have  often  seen  persons  with  large  rolls  of  these  bills, 
the  whole  not  amounting  to  more  than  five  dollars. 
Some  weeks  after  I  had  commenced  business  on  my 
"  own  hook,''  I  was  one  evening  very  much  crowded 
with  customers ;  and,  while  they  were  talking  over  the 
events  of  the  day,  one  of  them  said  to  me,  "Emperor, 
you  seem  to  be  doing  a  thriving  business.  You  should 
do  as  other  business  men,  issue  your  Shinplasters.'' 
This,  of  course,  as  it  was  intended,  created  a  laugh ;  but 
with  me  it  was  no  laughing  matter,  for  from  that  moment 
I  began  to  think  seriously  of  becoming  a  banker.  I 
accordingly  went  a  few  days  after  to  a  printer,  and  he, 
wishing  to  get  the  job  of  printing,  urged  me  to  put  out 
10 


ilO        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

my  notes,  and  showed  me  some  specimens  of  engravings 
that  he  had  just  received  from  Detroit.  My  head  being 
already  filled  with  the  idea  of  a  bank,  I  needed  but  little 
persuasion  to  set  the  thing  finally  afloat.  Before  I  left 
the  printer  the  notes  were  partly  in  type,  and  I  studying 
how  I  should  keep  the  public  from  counterfeiting  them. 
The  next  day  my  Shinplasters  were  handed  to  me,  the 
whole  amount  being  twenty  dollars,  and,  after  being  duly 
signed,  were  ready  for  circulation.  At  first  my  notes  did 
not  take  well ;  they  were  too  new,  and  viewed  with  a 
suspicious  eye.  But  through  the  assistance  of  my  cus- 
tomers, and  a  good  deal  of  exertion  on  my  own  part,  my 
bills  were  soon  in  circulation  ;  and  nearly  all  the  money 
received  in  return  for  my  notes  was  spent  in  fitting  up 
and  decorating  my  shop. 

Few  bankers  get  through  this  world  without  their 
difiiculties,  and  I  was  not  to  be  an  exception.  A  short 
time  after  my  money  had  been  out,  a  party  of  young 
men,  either  wishing  to  pull  down  my  vanity,  or  to  try 
the  soundness  of  my  bank,  determined  to  give  it  ^^a 
run."  After  collecting  together  a  number  of  my  bills, 
they  came  one  at  a  time  to  demand  other  money  for 
them,  and  I,  not  being  aware  of  what  was  going  on,  was 
taken  by  surprise.  One  day,  as  I  was  sitting  at  my 
table,  strapping  some  new  razors  I  had  just  got  with  the 
avails  of  my  ^^  Shinplasters,''  one  of  the  men  entered  and 
said,  ^ '  Emperor,  you  will  oblige  me  if  you  will  give  me 
some  other  money  for  these  notes  of  yours.''  I  immedi- 
ately cashed  the  notes  with  the  most  worthless  of  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        Ill 

Wild-cat  money  that  I  had  on  hand,  but  which  was  a 
lawful  tender.  The  young  man  had  scarcely  left,  when 
a  second  appeared,  with  a  similar  amount,  and  demanded 
payment.  These  were  cashed,  and  soon  a  third  came 
with  his  roll  of  notes.  I  paid  these  with  an  air  of  tri- 
umph, although  I  had  but  half  a  dollar  left.  I  began 
now  to  think  seriously  i^hat  I  should  do,  or  how  to  act, 
provided  another  demand  should  be  made.  While  I  was 
thus  engaged  in  thought,  I  saw  the  fourth  man  crossing 
the  street,  with  a  handful  of  notes,  evidently  my  ''  Shin- 
plasters."  I  instantaneously  shut  the  door,  and,  look- 
ing out  of  the  window,  said,  ^'I  have  closed  business  for 
the  day;  come  to-morrow,  and  I  will  see  you.''  In 
looking  across  the  street,  I  saw  my  rival  standing  in  his 
shop-door,  grinning  and  clapping  his  hands  at  my  appa- 
rent downfall.  I  was  completely  ^-done  Brown'^''  for 
the  day.  However,  I  was  not  to  be  ^^  used  up"  in  this 
way ;  so  I  escaped  by  the  back  door,  and  went  in  search 
of  my  friend  who  had  first  suggested  to  me  the  idea  of 
issuing  notes.  I  found  him,  told  him  of  the  difiiculty  I 
was  in,  and  wished  him  to  point  out  a  way  by  which  I 
might  extricate  myself  He  laughed  heartily,  and  then 
said,  '-'•  You  must  act  as  all  bankers  do  in  this  part  of  the 
country."  I  inquired  how  they  did,  and  he  said,  ^' When 
your  notes  are  brought  to  you,  you  must  redeem  them, 
and  then  send  them  out  and  get  other  money  for  them, 
and  with  the  latter  you  can  keep  cashing  your  own  Shin- 
plasters."  This  was  indeed  a  new  idea  to  me.  I  imme- 
diately commenced  putting  in  circulation  the  notes  which 


112        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

I  had  just  redeemed,  and  my  efforts  were  crowned  with 
so  much  success  that,  before  I  slept  that  night,  my 
^'^  Shinplasters"  were  again  in  circulation,  and  my  bank 
once  more  on  a  sound  basis. 

As  I  saw  the  clerks  shovelling  out  the  yellow  coin 
upon  the  counters  of  the  Bank  of  England,  and  men 
coming  in  and  going  out  wiui  weighty  bags  of  the 
precious  metal  in  their  hands  or  on  their  shoulders,  I 
could  not  but  think  of  the  great  contrast  between  the 
monster  institution  within  whose  walls  I  was  then  stand- 
ing and  the  Wild-cat  banks  of  America  ! 


CHAPTER   IX. 

**  We  might  as  soon  describe  a  dream 
As  tell  where  falls  each  golden  beam  ; 
As  soon  might  reckon  up  the  sand. 
Sweet  Weston  !  on  thy  sea-beat  strand, 
As  count  each  beauty  there." 

^MlSS  MlTFORD. 

I  HAVE  devoted  the  past  ten  days  to  sight-seeing  in 
the  metropolis,  the  first  two  of  which  were  spent  in  the 
British  Museum.  After  procuring  a  guide-book  at  the 
door  as  I  entered,  I  seated  myself  on  the  first  seat  that 
caught  my  eye,  arranged  as  well  as  I  could  in  my  mind 
the  difierent  rooms,  and  then  commenced  in  good  earnest. 
The  first  part  I  visited  was  the  gallery  of  antiquities,, 
through  to  the  north  gallery,  and  thence  to  the  Lycian 
room.  This  place  is  filled  with  tombs,  bas-reliefs,  statues, 
and  other  productions  of  the  same  art.  Venus,  seated, 
and  smelling  a  lotus-flower  which  she  held  in  her  hand, 
and  attended  by  three  Graces,  put  a  stop  to  the  rapid 
strides  that  I  was  making  through  this  part  of  the  hall. 
This  is  really  one  of  the  most  precious  productions  of  the 
art  that  I  have  ever  seen.  Many  of  the  figures  in  this 
10^ 


114        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

room  are  very  much  mutilated ;  yet  one  can  linger  here 
for  hours  with  interest.  A  good  number  of  the  statues 
are  of  uncertain  date ;  they  are  of  great  value  as  works 
of  art,  and  more  so  as  a  means  of  enlightening  much  that 
has  been  obscure  with  respect  to  Lycia,  an  ancient  and 
celebrated  country  of  Asia  Minor. 

In  passing  through  the  eastern  zoological  gallery,  I 
was  surrounded  on  every  side  by  an  army  of  portraits 
suspended  upon  the  w^alls;  and  among  these  was  the 
Protector.  The  people  of  one  century  kicks  his  bones 
through  the  streets  of  London,  another  puts  his  portrait 
in  the  British  Museum,  and  a  future  generation  may 
possibly  give  him  a  place  in  Westminster  Abbey.  Such 
is  the  uncertainty  of  the  human  character.  Yesterday, 
a  common  soldier ;  to-day,  the  ruler  of  an  empire ;  to- 
morrow, suspended  upon  the  gallows.  In  an  adjoining 
room  I  saw  a  portrait  of  Baxter,  which  gives  one  a  pretty 
good  idea  of  the  great  nonconformist.  In  the  same  room 
hung  a  splendid  modern  portrait,  without  any  intimation 
in  the  guide-book  of  who  it  represented,  or  when  it  was 
painted.  It  was  so  much  like  one  whom  I  had  seen,  and 
on  whom  my  affections  were  placed  in  my  younger  days, 
that  I  obtained  a  seat  from  an  adjoining  room  and  rested 
myself  before  it.  After  sitting  half  an  hour  or  more,  I 
wandered  to  another  part  of  the  building,  but  only  to 
return  again  to  my  ''first  love,"  where  I  remained  till 
the  throng  had  disappeared,  one  after  another,  and  the 
officer  reminded  me  that  it  was  time  to  close. 

It  was  eight  o'clock   before  I  reached  my  lodgings. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        115 

Although  fatigued  by  the  day's  exertions,  I  again  re- 
sumed the  reading  of  Roscoe's  ^'  Leo  X./'  and  had  nearly 
finished  seventy-three  pages,  when  the  clock  on  St.  Mar- 
tin's Church  apprised  me  that  it  was  two.  He  who 
escapes  from  slavery  at  the  age  of  twenty  years,  without 
any  education,  as  did  the  writer  of  this,  must  read  when 
others  are  asleep,  if  he  would  catch  up  with  the  rest  of 
the  world.  ''To  be  wise,"  says  Pope,  ''is  but  to  know 
how  little  can  be  known."  The  true  searcher  after  truth 
and  knowledge  is  always  like  a  child ;  although  gaining 
strength  from  year  to  year,  he  still  ' '  learns  to  labor  and 
to  wait."  The  field  of  labor  is  ever  expanding  before 
him,  reminding  him  that  he  has  yet  more  to  learn; 
teaching  him  that  he  is  nothing  more  than  a  child  in 
knowledge,  and  inviting  him  onward  with  a  thousand 
varied  charrns.  The  son  may  take  possession  of  the 
father's  goods  at  his  death,  but  he  cannot  inherit  with 
the  property  the  father's  cultivated  mind.  He  may  put 
on  the  father's  old  coat,  but  that  is  all ;  the  immortal 
mind  of  the  first  wearer  has  gone  to  the  tomb.  Property 
may  be  bequeathed,  but  knowledge  cannot.  Then  let 
him  who  would  be  useful  in  his  day  and  generation  be 
up  and  doing.  Like  the  Chinese  student  who  learned 
perseverance  from  the  woman  whom  he  saw  trying  to 
rub  a  crow-bar  into  a  needlCj  so  should  we  take  the 
experience  of  the  past  to  lighten  our  feet  through  the 
paths  of  the  future. 

The  next  morning,  at  ten,  I  was  again  at  the  door  of 
the  great  building ;  was  soon  within  its  walls  seeing  what 


116        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROADc 

time  would  not  allow  of  the  previous  day.  I  spent  some 
hours  in  looking  through  glass  cases,  viewing  specimens 
of  minerals  such  as  can  scarcely  be  found  in  any  place 
out  of  the  British  Museum.  During  this  day  I  did  not 
fail  to  visit  the  great  library.  It  is  a  spacious  room, 
surrounded  with  large  glass  cases  filled  with  volumes 
whose  very  look  tells  you  that  they  are  of  age.  Around, 
under  the  cornice,  were  arranged  a  number  of  old,  black- 
looking  portraits,  in  all  probability  the  authors  of  some 
of  the  works  in  the  glass  cases  beneath.  About  the 
room  were  placed  long  tables,  with  stands  for  reading  and 
writing,  and  around  these  were  a  number  of  men  busily 
engaged  in  looking  over  some  chosen  author.  Old  men 
with  gray  hairs,  young  men  with  moustaches,  some  in 
cloth,  others  in  fustian, —  indicating  that  men  of  different 
rank* can  meet  here.  Not  a  single  word  was  spoken 
during  my  stay ;  all  appearing  to  enjoy  the  silence  that 
reigned  throughout  the  great  room.  This  is  indeed  a 
retreat  from  the  world.  No  one  inquires  who  the  man  is 
that  is  at  his  side,  and  each  pursues  in  silence  his  own 
researches.  The  racing  of  pens  over  the  sheets  of  paper 
was  all  that  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  occasion. 

From  the  library  I  strolled  to  other  rooms,  and  feasted 
my  eyes  on  what  I  had  never  before  seen.  He  who  goes 
over  this  immense  building  cannot  do  so  without  a  feeling 
of  admiration  for  the  men  whose  energy  has  brought 
together  this  vast  and  wonderful  collection  of  things,  the 
like  of  which  cannot  be  found  in  any  other  museum  in 
the  world.     The  reflection  of  the  setting  sun  against  a 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         117 

mirror  in  one  of  the  rooms  told  me  that  night  was  ap- 
proaching, and  I  had  but  a  moment  in  which  to  take 
another  look  at  the  portrait  that  I  had  seen  on  the  pre- 
vious day,  and  then  bade  adieu  to  the  museum. 

Having  published  the  narrative  of  my  life  and  escape 
from  slavery,  and  put  it  into  the  booksellers'  hands,  and 
seeing  a  prospect  of  a  fair  sale,  I  ventured  to  take  from 
my  purse  the  last  sovereign  to  make  up  a  small  sum  to 
remit  to  the  United  States,  for  the  support  of  my  daugh- 
ters, who  are  at  school  there.  Before  doing  this,  however, 
I  had  made  arrangements  to  attend  a  public  meeting  in 
the  city  of  Worcester,  at  which  the  mayor  was  to  preside. 
Being  informed  by  the  friends  of  the  slave  there  that  I 
would  in  all  probability  sell  a  number  of  copies  of  my 
book,  and  being  told  that  Worcester  was  only  ten  miles 
from  London,  I  felt  ~safe  in  parting  with  all  but  a  few 
shillings,  feeling  sure  that  my  purse  would  soon  be  again 
replenished.  But  you  may  guess  my  surprise,  when  I 
learned  that  Worcester  was  above  a  hundred  miles  from 
London,  and  that  I  had  not  retained  money  enough  to 
defray  my  expenses  to  the  place.  In  my  haste  and  wish 
to  make  up  the  ten  pounds  to  send  to  my  children,  I  had 
forgotten  that  the  payment  for  my  lodgings  would  be 
demanded  before  I  should  leave  town.  Saturday  morn- 
ing came ;  I  paid  my  lodging-bill,  and  had  three  shillings 
and  fourpence  left ;  and  out  of  this  sum  I  was  to  get 
three  dinners,  as  I  was  only  served  with  breakfast  and 
tea  at  my  lodgings. 

Nowhere  in  the  British  empire  do  the  people  witness 


118        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

as  dark  days  as  in  London.  It  was  on  Mqnd^y  morning, 
in  the  fore  part  of  October,  ^s  the  clock  on  St.  Martin's 
Church  was  striking  ten,  that  I  left  my  lodgings,  ^nd 
turned  into  the  Strand.  The  street-lamps  were  yet  burn- 
ing, and  the  shops  were  all  lighted,  as  if  day  had  not 
made  its  appearance.  This  great  thoroughfare,  as  usual 
at  this  time  of  the  day,  was  thronged  with  business  men 
going  their  way,  and  women  sauntering  about  for  pleas- 
ure or  for  the  want  of  something  better  to  do.  I  passed 
down  the  Strand  to  Charing  Cross,  and  looked  in^:vain  to 
see  the  majestic  statue  of  Nelson  upon  the  top  of  the 
great  shaft.  The  clock  on  St.  Martin's  Cliurch  struck 
eleven,  but  my  sight  could  not  penetrate  through  the 
dark  veil  that  hung  between  its  face  and  me.  In  fact, 
day  had  been  completely  turned  into  night;  and  the 
brilliant  lights  from  the  shop-windows  almost  persuaded 
me  that  another  day  had  not  appeared.  A  London  fog 
cannot  be  described.  To  be  appreciated,  it  must  be  seen, 
or,  rather,  felt,  for  it  is  altogether  impossible  to  be  clear 
and  lucid  on  such  a  subject.  It  is  the  only  thing  which 
gives  you  an  idea  of  what  Milton  meant  w^hen  he  talked 
of  darkness  visible.  There  is  a  kind  of  light,  to  be  sure  ; 
but  it  only  serves  as  a  medium  for  a  series  of  optical  illu- 
sions ;  and,  for  all  useful  purposes  of  vision,  the  deepest 
darkness  that  ever  fell  from  the  heavens  is  infinitely  pre- 
ferable. A  man  perceives  a  coach  a  dozen  yards  off, 
and  a  single  stride  brings  him  among  the  horses'  feet;  he 
sees  a  gas-light  faintly  glimmering  (as  he  thinks)  at  a 
distance,   but  scarcely  has  he  advanced  a  step  or  two 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABllOAD.  119 

towards  it,  when  he  becomes  convinced  of  its  actual  sta- 
tion by  finding  his  head  rattling  against  the  post ;  and 
as  for  attempting,  if  you  get  once  mystified,  to  distin- 
guish one  street  from  another,  it  is  ridiculous  to  think 
of  such  a  thing. 

Turning,  I  retraced  my  steps,  and  was  soon  passing 
through  the  massive  gates  of  Temple  Bar,  wending  my 
way.  to  the  city,  when  a  beggar-boy  at  my  heels  accosted 
me  for  a  half-penny  to  buy  bread.  I  had  scarcely 
served  the  boy,  when  I  observed  near  by,  and  standing 
close  to  a  lamp-post,  a  colored  man,  and  from  his  gen- 
eral appearance  I  was  satisfied  that  he  was  an  American. 
He  eyed  me  attentively  as  I  passed  him,  and  seemed 
anxious  to  speak.  When  I  had  got  some  distance  from 
him  I  looked  back,  and  his  eyes  were  still  upon  me.  No 
longer  able  to  resist  the  temptation  to  speak  with  him, 
I  returned,  and,  commencing  conversation  with  him, 
learned  a  little  of  his  history,  w^hich  was  as  follows  :  He 
had,  he  said,  escaped  from  slavery  in  Maryland,  and 
reached  New  York  ;  but  not  feeling  himself  secure  there, 
he  had,  through  the  kindness  of  the  captain  of  an  Eng- 
lish ship,  made  his  way  to  Liverpool ;  and  not  being 
able  to  get  employment  there,  he  had  come  -  up  to  Lon- 
don. Here  he  had  met  with  no  better  success,  and  hav- 
ing been  employed  in  the  growing  of  tobacco,  and  being 
unaccustomed  to  any  other  work,  he  could  not  get  labor 
in  England.  I  told  him  he  had  better  try  to  get  to  the 
West  Indies ;  but  he  informed  me  that  he  had  not  a  sin- 
gle penny,  and  that  he  had  had  nothing  to  eat  that  day. 


# 


120        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

By  this  man's  story  I  was  moved  to  tears,  and,  going 
to  a  neighboring  shop,  I  took  from  my  purse  my  last 
shilling,  changed  it,  and  gave  this  poor  brother  fugitive 
one  half.  The  poor  man  burst  into  tears  as  I  placed  the 
sixpence  in  his  hand,  and  said,  ^^  You  are  the  first  friend 
I  have  met  in  London."  I  bade  him  farewell,  and  left 
him  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that  I  could  not  place  him 
beyond  the  reach  of  want.  I  went  on  my  way  to  the 
city,  and  while  going  through  Cheapside  a  streak  of 
light  appeared  in  the  east,  that  reminded  me  that  it  was 
not  night.  In  vain  I  wandered  from  street  to  street, 
with  the  hope  that  I  might  meet  some  one  who  would 
lend  me  money  enough  to  get  to  Worcester.  Hungry 
and  fatigued  I  w^as  returning  to  my  lodgings,  when  the 
great  clock  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  under  whose  shadow  I 
was  then  passing,  struck  four.  A  stroll  through  Fleet- 
street  and  the  Strand,  and  I  was  again  pacing  my  room. 
On  my  return,  I  found  a  letter  from  Worcester  had 
arrived  in  my  absence,  informing  me  that  a  party  of  gen- 
tlemen would  meet  me  the  next  day  on  my  reaching  that 
place,  and  saying,  ''Bring  plenty  of  books,  as  you  will 
doubtless  sell  a  large  number."  The  last  sixpence  had 
been  spent  for  postage-stamps,  in  order  to  send  off  some 
letters  to  other  places,  and  I  could  not  even  stamp  a  let- 
ter in  answer  to  the  one  last  from  Worcester.  The  only 
vestige  of  money  about  me  was  a  smooth  farthing  that  a 
little  girl  had  given  to  me  at  the  meeting  at  Croydon, 
saying,  ''  This  is  for  the  slaves."  I  was  three  thousand 
miles   from   home,  with   but   a  single  farthing   in  my 


m 

4- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         121 

pocket !  Where  on  earth  is  a  man  without  money  more 
destitute?  The  cold  hills  of  the  Arctic  regions  have  not 
a  more  inhospitable  appearance  than  London  to  the 
stranger  with  an  empty  pocket.  But  whilst  I  felt  de- 
pressed at  being  in  such  a  sad  condition,  I  was  conscious 
that  I  had  done  right  in  remitting  the  last  ten  pounds  to 
America.  It  was  for  the  support  of  those  whom  God 
had  committed  to  my  care,  and  whom  I  love  as  I  can  no 
others.  I  had  no  friend  in  London  to  whom  I  could 
apply  for  temporary  aid.  My  friend,  Mr.  T  ,  was 
out  of  town,  and  I  did  not  know  his  address. 

The  dark  day  was  rapidly  passing  away, —  the  clock 
in  the  hall  had  struck  six.  I  had  given  up  all  hopes  of 
reaching  Worcester  the  next  day,  and  had  just  rung  the 
bell  for  the  servant  to  bring  me  some  tea,  when  a  gentle 
tap  at  the  door  was  heard ;  the  servant  entered,  and  in- 
formed me  that  a  gentleman  below  was  wishing  to  see 
me.  I  bade  her  fetch  a  light  and  ask  hirn  up.  The 
stranger  was  my  young  friend,  Frederick  Stevenson,  son 
of  the  excellent  minister  of  the  Borough-Road  Chapel. 
I  had  lectured  in  this  chapel  a  few  days  previous ;  and 
this  young  gentleman,  with  more  than  ordinary  zeal  and 
enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of  bleeding  humanity,  and  re- 
spect for  me.  had  gone  amongst  his  father's  congrega- 
tion and  sold  a  number  of  copies  of  my  book,  and  had 
come  to  bring  me  the  money.  I  wiped  the  silent  tear 
from  my  eyes  as  the  young  man  placed  the  thirteen  half- 
crOAvns  in  my  hand.  1  did  not  let  him  know  under  what 
obligation  I  was  to  him  for  this  disinterested  act  of  kind- 
11 


122        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

ness.  He  does  not  know  to  this  day  what  aid  he  has 
rendered  to  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  I  feel  that 
I  am  but  discharging  in  a  trifling  degree  my  debt  of 
gratitude  to  this  young  gentleman,  in  acknowledging  my 
obligation  to  him.  As  the  man  who  called  for  bread  and 
cheese,  when  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  the  last  threepence 
to  pay  for  it,  found  a  sovereign  that  he  was  not  aware  he 
possessed,  countermanded  the  order  for  the  lunch,  and 
bade  them  bring  him  the  best  dinner  they  could  get ;  so 
I  told  the  servant,  when  she  brought  the  tea,  that  I  had 
changed  my  mind,  and  should  go  out  to  dine.  With  the 
means  in  my  pocket  of  reaching  Worcester  the  next  day, 
I  sat  down  to  dinner  at  the  Adelphi,  with  a  good  cut  of 
roast  beef  before  me,  and  felt  myself  once  more  'm  home. 
Thus  ended  a  dark  day  in  London. 


CHAPTER    X. 

"  When  I  behold,  with  deepe  astonishment, 

To  famous  Westminster  how  there  resorte. 
Living  in  brass  or  stoney  monument. 

The  princes  and  the  worthies  of  all  sorte  ; 
Doe  not  I  see  reformde  nobilitie. 

Without  contempt,  or  pride,  or  ostentation. 
And  looke  upon  offenselesse  majesty. 

Naked  of  pomp  or  earthly  domination  ? 
And  how  a  play-game  of  a  painted  stone 

Contents  the  quiet  now  and  silent  sprites, 
Whome  all  the  world  which  late  they  stood  upon 

Could  not  content  nor  quench  their  appetites.  ^ 

Life  is  a  frost  of  cold  felicitie. 
And  death  the  thaw  of  all  our  vanitie." 

For  some  days  past  tlie  sun  has  not  shown  his  face ; 
clouds  have  obscured  the  sky,  and  the  rain  has  fallen  in 
torrents,  which  has  contributed  much  to  the  general 
gloom.  However,  I  have  spent  the  time  in  as  agreeable 
a  manner  as  I  well  could.  Yesterday  I  fulfilled  an  en- 
gagement to  dine  with  a  gentleman  at  the  Whittington 
Club.  One  who  is  unacquainted  with  the  club  system  as 
carried  on  in  London  can  scarcely  imagine  the  con- 
veniences they  present.     Every  member  appears  to  be 


124  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD. 

at  home,  and  all  seem  to  own  a  share  in  the  club. 
There  is  a  free-and-easy  way  with  those  who  frequent 
clubs,  and  a  license  given  there,  that  is  unknown  in  the 
drawing-room  of  the  private  mansion.  I  met  the  gentle- 
man at  the  club  at  the  appointed  hour,  and  after  his 
writing  my  name  in  the  visitors'  book,  we  proceeded  to 
the  dining-room,  where  we  partook  of  a  good  dinner. 

We  had  been  in  the  room  but  a  short  time,  when  a 
small  man,  dressed  in  black,  with  his  coat  buttoned  up 
to  the  chin,  entered  the  saloon,  and  took  a  seat  at  the 
table  hard  by.  My  friend,  in  a  low  whisper,  informed 
me  that  this  person  was  one  of  the  French  refugees.  He 
was  apparently  not  more  than  thirty  years  of  age,  and 
exceedingly  good-looking, —  his  person  being  slight,  his 
feet  and  hands  very  small  and  well-shaped,  especially  his 
hands,  which  were  covered  with  kid  gloves,  so  tightly 
drawn  on  that  the  points  of  the  finger-nails  were  visible 
thrarugh  them.  His  face  was  mild  and  almost  womanly 
in  its  beauty,  his  eyes  soft  and  full,  his  brow  open  and 
ample,  his  features  well  defined,  and  approaching  to  the 
ideal  Greek  in  contour ;  the  lines  about  his  mouth  were 
exquisitely  sweet,  and  yet  resolute  in  expression ;  his 
hair  was  short  —  his  having  no  moustache  gave  him 
nothing  of  the  look  of  a  Frenchman;  and  I  was  not  a 
little  surprised  when  informed  that  the  person  before  me 
was  Louis  Blanc.  I  could  scarcely  be  persuaded  to  be- 
lieve that  one  so  small,  so  child-like  in  stature,  had 
taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  revolution  of  1848.  He 
held  in  his  hand  a  copy  of  La  Presse^  and  as  soon  as  he 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD,         125 

was  seated  opened  it  and  began  to  devour  its  contents. 
The  gentleman  with  whom  I  was   dining  was  not  ac- 
quainted with  him,  but  at  the  close  of  our  dinner  ho 
procured  me  an  introduction  through  another  gentleman. 
As  we  were  returning  to  our  lodgings,  we  saw  in  Ex- 
eter-street, Strand,  one  of  those  exhibitions  that  can  be 
seen  in  almost  any  of  the  streets  in  the  suburbs  of  the 
metropolis,  but  which  is  something  of  a  novelty  to  those 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.     This  was  an  exhi- 
bition of  ^'  Punch  and  Judy.''     Everything  was  in  full 
operation  when  vfc'  reached   the   spot.     A  puppet   ap- 
peared, eight  or  ten  inches  from  the  waist  upwards,  with 
an  enormous  face,  huge  nose,  mouth  widely  grinning, 
projecting  chin,   cheeks  covered  with  grog-blossoms,  a 
large  protuberance   on  his  back,  another  on  his  chest  ; 
yet   with    these   deformities   he   appeared   uncommonly 
happy.     This  was  Mr.  Punch.     He  held  in  his  right 
hand  a  tremendous  bludgeon,   with  which  he   amused 
himself  by  rapping  on  the  head  every  one  who  camo 
within  his  reach.     This  exhibition  seems  very  absurd, 
yet  not  less  than  one  hundred  were  present  ~  children, 
boys,  old  men,  and  even  gentlemen  and    ladies,  were 
standing   by,   and   occasionally  greeting   the   performer 
with  the   smile  of  approbation.     Mr.  Punch,  however, 
was  not  to  have  it  all  his  own  way,  for  another  and  bet- 
ter sort  of  Panch-like  exhibition   appeared  a  few  yards 
off,  that  took  away  Mr.  Punch's  audience,  to  the  great 
dissatisfaction  of  that  gentleman.     This  was  an  exhibi- 
tion called  the  Fantoccini,  and  far  superior  to  any  of  the 
11=^ 


126        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

street  performances  which  I  have  yet  seen.  The  curtain 
rose  and  displayed  a  beautiful  theatre  in  miniature,  and 
most  gorgeously  painted.  The  organ  which  accompanied 
it  struck  up  a  hornpipe,  and  a  sailor,  dressed  in  his  blue 
jacket,  made  his  appearance,  and  commenced  keeping 
time  with  the  utmost  correctness.  This  figure  was  not 
'  so  long  as  Mr.  Punch,  but  much  better  looking.  At  the 
close  of  the  hornpipe  the  little  sailor  made  a  bow,  and 
tripped  off,  apparently  conscious  of  having  deserved  the 
undivided  applause  of  the  bystanders.  The  curtain 
dropped ;  but  in  two  or  three  minutes  it  was  again  up,  and 
a  rope  was  discovered  extended  on  two  cross  pieces  for 
dancing  upon.  The  tune  was  changed  to  an  air  in 
which  the  time  was  marked  ;  a  graceful  figure  appeared, 
jumped  upon  the  rope  with  its  balance-pole,  and  dis- 
plaj^ed  all  the  manoeuvres  of  an  expert  performer  on  the 
tight-rope.  Many  who  would  turn  away  in  disgust  from 
Mr.  Punch  will  stand  for  hours  and  look  at  the  perform- 
ances of  the  Fantoccini.  If  people,  like  the  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  will  sometimes  ''  allow  themselves  to  be 
happy,'-'  they  can  hardly  fail  to  have  a  hearty  laugh  at 
the  drolleries  of  the  Fantoccini.  There  may  be  degrees 
of  absurdity  in  the  manner  of  wasting  our  time,  but  there 
is  an  evident  affectation  in  decrying  these  humble  and 
innocent  exhibitions,  by  those  who  will  sit  till  two  or 
three  in  the  morning  to  witness  a  pantomime  at  a  theatre 
royal. 

^  "^  "itc  ■^  4k  -Uf 

•TS'  "TV'  -JTr  fl^  'K  -?? 

An  autumn  sun  shone  brightly  through  a  remarkably 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABEOAD.        127 

transparent  atmosphere  this  morning,  which  vras  a  most 
striking  contrast  to  the  weather  we  had  had  during  the 
past  three  days  ;  and  I  again  set  out  to  see  some  of  the 
lions  of  the  city,  commencing  with  the  Tower  of  London. 
Every  American,  on  returning  home  from  a  visit  to  the 
Old  World,  speaks  with  pride  of  the  places  he  saw  while 
in  Europe  ;  and  of  the  many  resorts  of  interest  he  has 
read  of,  few  have  made  a  more  lasting  impression  upon 
his  memory  than  the  Tower  of  London.  The  stories  of 
the  imprisoning  of  kings  and  queens,  the  murdering  of 
princes,  the  torturing  of  men  and  w^omen,  without  regard 
to  birth,  education  or  station,  and  of  the  burning  and  re- 
building of  the  old  pile,  have  all  sunk  deep  into  his 
heart.  A  walk  of  twenty  minutes,  after  being  set  down 
at  the  bank  by  an  omnibus,  brought  me  to  the  gate  of  the 
Tower.  A  party  of  friends  who  were  to  meet  me  there 
had  not  arrived ;  so  I  had  an  opportunity  of  inspecting  the 
grounds,  and  taking  a  good  view  of  the  external  appear- 
ance of  the  old  and  celebrated  building.  The  Tower  is 
surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  and  around  this  a  deep  ditch 
partly  filled  with  stagnated  water.  The  wall  encloses 
twelve  acres  of  ground,  on  which  stand  the  several 
towers,  occupying,  with  their  walks  and  avenues,  the 
vfhole  space.  The  most  ancient  part  of  the  building  is 
called  the  ''  White  Tower,''  so  as  to  distinguish  it  from 
the  parts  more  recently  built.  Its  walls  are  seventeen 
feet  in  thickness,  and  ninety-two  in  height,  exclusive  of 
the  turrets,  of  which  there  are  four.  My  company 
arrived,  and  we  entered  the  Tower  through  four  massive 


128  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD. 

gateSj  the  innermost  one  being  pointed  out  as  the 
^^  Water,  or  Traitors^  Gate/'  so  called  from  the  fact  that 
it  opened  to  the  river,  and  through  it  the  criminals  were 
usually  brought  to  the  prison  within.  But  this  passage 
is  now  closed  up.  We  visited  the  various  apartments  in 
the  old  building.  The  room  in  the  Bloody  Tower  where 
the  infant  princes  were  put  to  death  by  the  command  of 
their  uncle,  Richard  III.,  also  the  recess  behind  the 
gate  where  the  bones  of  the  young  princes  were  con- 
cealed, were  shown  to  us.  The  warden  of  the  prison,  who 
showed  us  through,  seemed  to  have  little  or  no  venera- 
tion for  Henry  VIII. ;  for  he  often  cracked  a  joke  or 
told  a  story  at  the  expense  of  the  murderer  of  Anne 
Boleyn.  The  old  man  wiped  the  tear  from  his  eye  as  he 
pointed  out  the  grave  of  Lady  Jane  Grey.  This  w^as 
doubtless  one  of  the  best  as  well  as  most  innocent  of 
those  who  lost  their  lives  in  the  Tower ;  young,  virtuous 
and  handsome,  she  became  a  victim  to  the  ambition  of 
her  own  and  her  husband's  relations.  I  tried  to  count 
the  names  on  the  wall  in  '^Beauchamp's  Tower,''  but 
they  were  too  numerous.  Anne  Boleyn  was  imprisoned 
here.  The  room  in  the  ^^  Brick  Tower  "  where  Lady 
Jane  Grey  was  imprisoned  was  pointed  out  as  a  place  of 
interest.  We  were  next  shown  into  the  ^'  White  Tower." 
'We  passed  through  a  long  room  filled  with  many  things 
having  a  warlike  appearance ;  and  among  them  a 
number  of  equestrian  figures,  as  large  as  life,  and  clothed 
in  armor  and  trappings  of  the  various  reigns  from 
Edward  I.  to  James  II.,  or  from  1272  to  1685.     Eliza- 


■  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        129 

beth;  or  the  ''  Maiden  Queen,"  as  the  warden  called  her, 
was  the  most  imposing  of  the  group  ;  she  was  on  a  cream- 
colored  charger.  We  left  the  Maiden  Queen,  to  examine 
the  cloak  upon  which  General  Wolf  died  at  the  storming 
of  Quebec.  In  this  room  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  im- 
prisoned, and  here  was  written  his  '^  History  of  the 
World.''  in  his  own  hand,  upon  the  wall,  is  written, 
^'  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a 
crown  of  life."  His  Bible  is  still  shown,  with  these 
memorable  lines  written  in  it  by  himself  a  short  time 
before  his  death  : 

**  Even  such  is  Timej  that  takes  on  trust, 
Our  youth,  our  joy,  our  aU  we  have. 
And  pays  us  but  with  age  and  dust  ; 
Who  in  the  dark  and  silent  grave. 
When  we  have  wandered  all  our  ways. 
Shuts  up  the  story  of  our  days." 

Spears,  battle-axes,  pikes,  helmets,  targets,  bows  and 
arrows,  and  many  instruments  of  torture,  whose  names  I 
did  not  learn,  grace  the  walls  of  this  room.  The  block 
on  which  the  Earl  of  Essex  and  Anne  Boleyn  were  be- 
headed was  shown  among  other  objects  of  interest.  A 
view  of  the  ''  Queen's  Jev/els"  closed  our  visit  to  the 
Tower.  The  gold  staff  of  St.  Edward,  and  the  Baptis- 
mal Font  used  at  the  royal  christenings,  made  of  solid 
silver,  and  more  than  four  feet  high,  were  among  the 
jewels  here  exhibited.  The  Sword  of  Justice  was  there, 
as  if  to  watch  the  rest  of  the  valuables.     However,  this 


180        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

was  not  the  sword  that  Peter  used.  Our  acquaintance 
with  De  Foe,  Sir  Walter  E-aleigh  and  Chaucer,  through 
their  writings,  and  the  knowledge  that  they  had  been 
incarcerated  within  the  walls  of  the  bastile  that  we  were 
just  leaving,  caused  us  to  look  back  again  and  again  upon 
its  dark-gray  turrets. 

I  closed  the  day  with  a  look  at  the  interior  of  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral.  A  service  was  just  over,  and  we  met 
a  crowd  coming  out  as  we  entered  the  great  building. 
^^  Service  is  over,  and  tuppence  for  all  that  wants  to 
stay,''  was  the  first  sound  that  caught  our  ears.  In  the 
Burlesque  of  ^'Esmeralda,''  a  man  is  met  in  the  belfry 
of  the  Notre  Dame  at  Paris,  and,  being  asked  for  money 
by  one  of  the  vergers,  says, 

**  I  paid  three  pence  at  the  door, 
And  since  I  came  in  a  great  deal  more  ;  ^ 

Upon  my  honor,  you  have  emptied  my  purse,  — 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral  could  not  do  worse." 

I  felt  inclined  to  join  in  this  sentiment  before  I  left 
the  church.  A  fine  statue  of  ''Surly  Sam''  Johnson 
was  one  of  the  first  things  that  caught  our  eyes  on  look- 
ing around.  A  statue  of  Sir  Edward  Packenham,  Avho 
fell  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  was  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  great  hall.  As  we  had  walked  over  the 
ground  where  the  general  fell,  we  viewed  his  statue 
with  more  than  ordinary  interest.  We  were  taken  from 
one  scene  of  interest  to  another^  until  we  found  ourselves 
in  the  '^Whispering  Gallery,''     From  the  dome  we  had 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        131 

a  splendid  view  of  the  metropolis  of  the  world.  A  scaf- 
fold was  erected  up  here  to  enable  an  artist  to  take 
sketches,  from  which  a  panorama  of  London  was  painted. 
The  artist  was  three  years  at  work.  The  painting  is  now 
exhibited  at  the  Colosseum :  but  the  brain  of  the  artist 
was  turned,  and  he  died  insane.  Indeed,  one  can 
scarcely  conceive  how  it  could  be  otherwise.  You  in 
America  have  no  idea  of  the  immensity  of  this  building. 
Pile  together  half  a  dozen  of  the  largest  churches  in  New 
York  or  Boston^  and  you  will  have  but  a  faint  represent- 
ation of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 

M,  -iLf  '^  -^^  -i!^  -^ 

^  'VV  "7^  'Ti'  'TV'  -?f 

I  have  just  returned  from  a  stroll  of  two  hours  through 
Westminster  Abbey.  We  entered  the  building  at  a  door 
near  Poet's  Corner,  and,  naturally  enough,  looked  around 
for  the  monuments  of  the  men  whose  imaginative  powers 
have  contributed  so  much  to  instruct  and  amuse  man- 
kind. I  was  not  a  little  disappointed  in  the  few  I  saw. 
In  almost  any  church-yard  you  may  see  monuments  and 
tombs  far  superior  to  anything  in  Poets'  Corner.  A  few 
only  have  monuments.  Shakspeare,  who  wrote  of  man 
to  man,  and  for  man  to  the  end  of  time,  is  honored  with 
one.  Addison's  monument  is  also  there  ;  but  the  greater 
number  have  nothing  more  erected  to  their  memories 
than  busts  or  medallions.  Poets'  Corner  is  not  splendid 
in  appearance,  yet  I  observed  visitors  lingering  about  it, 
as  if  they  were  tied  to  the  spot  by  love  and  veneration 
for  some  departed  friend.  All  seemed  to  regard  it  as 
classic  ground.     No  sound  louder  than  a  whisper  was 


132  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

heard  during  the  whole  time,  except  the  verger  treading 
over  the  marble  floor  with  a  light  step.  There  is  great 
pleasure  in  sauntering  about  the  tombs  of  those  with 
whom  we  are  familiar  through  their  writings ;  and  we 
tear  ourselves  from  their  ashes,  as  we  would  from  those 
of  a  bosom  friend.  The  genius  of  these  men  spreads 
itself  over  the  whole  panorama  of  nature,  giving  us  one 
vast  and  varied  picture,  the  color  of  which  will  endure  to 
the  end  of  time.  None  can  portray  like  the  poet  the 
passions  of  the  human  soul.  The  statue  of  Addison,  clad 
in  his  dressing-gown,  is  not  far  from  that  of  Shakspeare. 
He  looks  as  if  lie  had  just  left  the  study,  after  finishing 
some  chosen  paper  for  the  Spectator,  This  memento  of 
a  great  man  was  the  work  of  the  British  public.  Such 
a  mark  of  national  respect  was  but  justice  to  the  one  who 
had  contributed  more  to  purify  and  raise  the  standard  of 
English  literature  than  any  man  of  his  day.  We  next 
visited  the  other  end  of  the  same  transept,  near  the 
northern  door.  Here  lie  Mansfield,  Chatham,  Fox,  the 
second  William  Pitt,  Grattan,  Wilberforce  and  a  few 
other  statesmen.  But,  above  all,  is  the  stately  monu- 
ment of  the  Earl  of  Chatham.  In  no  other  place  so 
small  do  so  many  great  men  lie  together.  To  these  men, 
whose  graves  strangers  from  all  parts  of  the  world  wish 
to  view,  the  British  public  are  in  a  great  measure  in- 
debted for  England's  fame.  The  high  preeminence  which 
England  has  so  long  enjoyed  and  maintained  in  the  scale 
of  empire  has  constantly  been  the  boast  and  pride  of  the 
English  people.     The  warm  panegyrics  that  have  been 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD.        133 

lavished  on  her  constitution  and  laws,  the  songs  chanted 
to  celebrate  her  glory,  the  lustre  of  her  arms,  as  the 
glowing  theme  of  her  warriors,  the  thunder  of  her  artil- 
lery in  proclaiming  her  moral  prowess,  her  flag  being 
unfurled  to  every  breeze  and  ocean,  rolling  to  her  shores 
the  tribute  of  a  thousand  realms,  show  England  to  be  the 
greatest  nation  in  the  world,  and  speak  volumes  for  the 
great  departed,  as  well  as  for  those  of  the  living  present. 
One  requires  no  company,  no  amusements,  no  books,  in 
such  a  place  as  this.  Time  and  death  have  placed  within 
those  walls  sufficient  to  occupy  the  mind,  if  one  should 
stay  here  a  week. 

On  my  return,  I  spent  an  hour  very  pleasantly  in 
the  Royal  Academy,  in  the  same  building  as  the 
National  Gallery.  Many  of  the  paintings  here  are  of  a 
fine  order.  Oliver  Cromwell  looking  upon  the  headless 
corpse  of  King  Charles  I.  appeared  to  draw  the  greatest 
number  of  spectators.  A  scene  from  ^^  As  You  Like 
It ''  was  one  of  the  best  executed  pieces  we  saw.  This 
was  ^'  Rosalind,  Celia  and  Orlando.''  The  artist  did 
himself  and  the  subject  great  credit.  Kemble,  in  Ham- 
let, with  that  ever-memorable  skull  in  his  hand,  was  one 
of  the  pieces  which  we  viewed  with  no  little  interest.  It 
is  strange  that  Hamlet  is  always  represented  as  a  thin, 
lean  man,  when  the  Hamlet  of  Shakspeare  was  a  fat, 
John  Bull  kind  of  a  man. 

But  the  best  piece  in  the  gallery  was  ^^  Dante  medi- 
tating the  episode  of  Francesca  da  Rimini  and  Paolo 
Malatesta,  S'Inferno,  Canto  V/'  Our  first  interest  for 
12 


134        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

the  great  Italian  poet  was  created  by  reading  Lord  By- 
i-on's  poem,  ''  The  Lament  of  Dante."  'From  that  hour 
we  felt  like  examining  everything  connected  with  the 
poet.  The  history  of  poets,  as  well  as  painters,  is  writ- 
ten in  their  works.  The  best  written  life  of  Goldsmith 
is  to  be  found  in  his  poem  of  ^^  The  Traveller,"  and  his 
novel  of  ^'  The  Vicar  of  Vfakefield."  Boswell  could  not 
have  written  a  better  life  of  himself  than  he  has  done  in 
giving  the  Biography  of  Dr.  Johnson.  It  seems  clear 
that  no  one  can  be  a  great  poet  without  having  been 
sometime  during  life  a  lover,  and  having  lost  the  object 
of  his  affection  in  some  mysterious  way.  Burns  had  his 
Highland  Mary,  Byron  his  Mary,  and  Dante  was  not 
without  his  Beatrice.  Whether  there  ever  lived  such  a 
person  as  Beatrice  seems  to  be  a  question  upon  which 
neither  of  his  biographers  has  thrown  much  light. 
However,  a  Beatrice  existed  in  the  poet's  mind,  if  not 
on  earth.  His  attachment  to  Beatrice  Portinari,  and 
the  linking  of  her  name  with  the  immortality  of  his 
great  poem,  left  an  indelible  impression  upon  his  future 
character.  The  marriage  of  the  object  of  his  affections 
to  another,  and  her  subsequent  death,  and  the  poet's 
exile  from  his  beloved  Florence,  together  with  his  death 
amongst  strangers,  all  give  an  interest  to  the  poet's 
writings  which  could  not  be  heightened  by  romance 
itself.  When  exiled  and  in  poverty,  Dante  found  a 
friend  in  the  father  of  Francesca.  And  here,  under  the 
roof  of  his  protector,  he  wrote  his  great  poem.  The 
time  the  painter  has  chosen  is  evening.     Day  and  night 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        135 

meet  in  mid-air :  one  star  is  alone  visible.  Sailing  in 
vacancy  are  the  shadows  of  the  lovers.  The  countenance 
of  Francesca  is  expressive  of  hopeless  agony.  The  de- 
lineations are  sublime^  the  conception  is  of  the  highest 
order,  and  the  execution  admirable.  Dante  is  seated  in 
a  marble  vestibule,  in  a  meditating  attitude,  the  face 
partly  concealed  by  the  right  hand  upon  which  it  is  rest- 
ing. On  the  whole,  it  is  an  excellently  painted  piece, 
and  causes  one  to  go  back  with  a  fresh  relish  to  the 
Italian's  celebrated  poem. 

In  coming  out  we  stopped  a  short  while  in  the  upper 
room  of  the  gallery,  and  spent  a  few  minutes  over  a 
painting  representing  Mrs.  Siddons  in  one  of  Shaks- 
peare's  characters.  This  is  by  Sir  Joshua  Keynolds,  and 
is  only  one  of  the  many  pieces  that  we  have  seen  of  this 
great  artist.  His  genius  was  vast  and  powerful  in  its 
grasp,  his  fancy  fertile,  and  his  inventive  faculty  inex- 
haustible in  its  resources.  He  displayed  the  very  highest 
powers  of  genius  by  the  thorough  originality  of  his  con- 
ceptions, and  by  the  entirely  new  path  that  he  struck 
out  in  art.  Well  may  Englishmen  be  proud  of  his  name. 
And  as  time  shall  step  between  his  day  and  those  that 
follow  after  him,  the  more  will  his  works  be  appreciated. 
We  have  since  visited  his  grave,  and  stood  over  his 
monument  in  St.  Paul's. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

To  give  implicit  credence  to  eacli  tale 

Of  monkish  legends,  —  relics  to  order  ; 
To  think  God  honored  by  the  cowl  or  veil, 

Eegardless  who,  or  what,  the  emblem  wore, 
Indeed  is  mockery,  mummery,  nothing  more  : 

But  if  cold  Scepticism  usurp  the  place 
That  Superstition  held  in  days  of  yore, 

We  may  not  be  in  much  more  hopeful  case 
Than  if  we  still  implored  the  Virgin  Mary's  grace. 

Barton. 

Some  days  since,  I  left  the  metropolis  to  fulfil  a  few 
engagements  to  visit  provincial  towns ;  and  after  a  ride 
of  nearly  eight  hours,  we  were  in  sight  of  the  ancient 
city  of  York.  It  was  night,  the  moon  was  in  her  zenith, 
and  there  seemed  nothing  between  her  and  the  earth  but 
glittering  cold.  The  moon,  the  stars,  and  the  innumer- 
able gas-lights,  gave  the  city  a  panoramic  appearance. 
Like  a  mountain  starting  out  of  a  plain,  there  stood  the 
cathedral  in  its  glory,  looking  down  upon  the  surround- 
ing buildings,  with  all  the  appearance  of  a  Gulliver 
standing  over  the  Lilliputians.  Night  gave  us  no  oppor- 
tunity to  view  the  minster.  However,  we  were  up  the 
next  morning  before  the  sun,  and  walking  round  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        137 

cathedral  with  a  degree  of  curiosity  seldom  excited 
within  us.  It  is  thought  that  a  building  of  the  same 
dimensions  would  take  fifty  years  to  complete  it  at  the 
present  time,  even  with  all  the  improvements  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  would  cost  no  less  than  the  enor- 
mous sum  of  two  millions  of  pounds  sterling.  From 
what  I  had  heard  of  this  famous  cathedral,  my  expecta- 
tions were  raised  to  the  highest  point ;  but  it  surpassed 
all  the  idea  that  I  had  formed  of  it.  On  entering  the 
building,  we  lost  all  thought  of  the  external  appearance 
by  the  matchless  beauty  of  the  interior.  The  echo  pro- 
duced by  the  tread  of  our  feet  upon  the  floor  as  we 
entered,  resounding  through,  the  aisles,  seemed  to  say, 
•'  Pat  off  your  shoes,  for  the  place  whereon  you  tread  is 
holy  ground.''  We  stood  with  hat  in  hand,  and  gazed 
with  wonder  and  astonishment  down  the  incomparable 
vista  of  more  than  five  hundred  feet.  The  organ,  which 
stands  near  the  centre  of  the  building,  is  said  to  be  one 
of  the  finest  in  the  world.  A  wall,  in  front  of  which  is 
a  screen  of  the  most  gorgeous  and  florid  architecture,  and 
executed  in  solid  stone,  separates  the  nave  from  the  ser- 
vice choir.  The  beautiful  workmanship  of  this  makes  it 
appear  so  perfect,  as  almost  to  produce  the  belief  that  it 
is  tracery- work  of  wood.  We  ascended  the  rough  stone 
steps  through  a  winding  stair  to  the  turrets,  where  we 
had  such  a  view  of  the  surrounding  country  as  can  be 
obtained  from  no  other  place.  On  the  top  of  the  centre 
and  highest  turret  is  a  grotesque  figure  of  a  fiddler; 
rather  a  strange-looking  object,  w^e  thought,  to  occupy 
12=^ 


188        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

the  most  elevated  pinnacle  on  the  house  of  God.  All 
dwellings  in  the  neighborhood  appear  like  so  many 
dwarfs  crouching  at  the  feet  of  the  minster ;  while  its  own 
vastness  and  beauty  impress  the  observer  with  feelings 
of  awe  and  sublimity.  As  we  stood  upon  the  top  of  this 
stupendous  mountain  of  ecclesiastical  architecture,  and 
surveyed  the  picturesque  hills  and  valleys  around,  im- 
agination recalled  the  tumult  of  the  sanguinary  battles 
fought  in  sight  of  the  edifice.  The  rebellion  of  Octavius 
near  three  thousand  years  ago,  his  defeat  and  flight  to 
the  Scots,  his  return  and  triumph  over  the  Romans,  and 
being  crowned  king  of  all  Britain ;  the  assassination  of 
Oswald,  King  of  the  Northumbrians  ;  the  flaying  alive 
of  Osbert ;  the  crowning  of  Richard  III.;  the  siege  by 
William  the  Conqueror;  the  siege  by  Cromwell,  and 
the  pomp  and  splendor  with  which  the  different  monarchs 
had  been  received  in  York,  all  appeared  to  be  vividly 
before  me.  While  we  were  thus  calling  to  our  aid  our 
knowledge  of  history,  a  sweet  peal  from  the  lungs  of  the 
ponderous  organ  below  cut  short  our  stay  among  the  tur- 
rets, and  we  descended  to  have  our  organ  of  tune  grati- 
fied, as  well  as  to  finish  the  inspection  of"  the  interior. 

I  have  heard  the  sublime  melodies  of  Handel,  Haydn 
and  Mozart,  performed  by  the  most  skilful  musicians ; 
I  have  listened  with  delight  and  awe  to  the  soul-moving 
compositions  of  those  masters,  as  they  have  been  chanted 
in  the  most  magnificent  churches;  but  never  did  I  hear 
such  music,  and  played  upon  such  an  instrument,  as  that 
sent  forth  by  the  great  organ  in  the  Cathedral  of  York. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        139 

The  verger  took  much  delight  in  showing  us  the  horn 
that  was  once  mounted  with  gold,  but  is  now  garnished 
with  brass.  We  viewed  the  monuments  and  tombs  of 
the  departed,  and  then  spent  an  hour  before  the  great 
north  window.  The  design  on  the  painted  glass,  which 
tradition  states  was  given  to  the  church  by  five  virgin 
sisters,  is  the  finest  thing  of  the  kind  in  Great  Britain. 
I  felt  a  relief  on  once  more  coming  into  the  open  air,  and 
again  beholding  Nature's  own  sunlight.  The  splendid 
ruin  of  St.  Mary's  Abbey,  with  its  eight  beautiful 
light  Gothic  v/indows,  next  attracted  our  attention.  A 
visit  to  the  castle  finished  our  stay  in  York ;  and  as  we 
were  leaving  the  old  city  we  almost  imagined  that  we 
heard  the  chiming  of  the  bells  for  the  celebration  of  the 
first  Christian  Sabbath,  with  Prince  Arthur  as  the  pre- 
siding genius. 

-^  4k  4fc  -iU  -^  -4^ 

■TV  -TT-  -Tf  'ff'  -Tf  -TT 

England  stands  preeminently  the  first  government  in  the 
world  for  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press.  Not  even 
in  our  own  beloved  America  can  the  man  who  feels  him- 
self oppressed  speak  as  he  can  in  Great  Britain.  In 
some  parts  of  England,  however,  the  freedom  of  thought 
is  tolerated  to  a  greater  extent  than  in  others ;  and  of 
the  places  favorable  to  reforms  of  all  kinds,  calculated  to 
elevate  and  benefit  mankind,  Newcastle-on-Tyne  doubt- 
less takes  the  lead.  Surrounded  by  innumerable  coal- 
mines, it  furnishes  employment  for  a  large  laboring 
population,  many  of  whom  take  a  deep  interest  in  the 
passing  events  of  the  day,  and,  consequently,  are  a  read- 


140  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABBOAD. 

ing  class.  The  public  debater  or  speaker,  no  matter 
•what  may  be  his  subject,  who  fails  to  get  an  audience  in 
other  towns,  is  sure  of  a  gathering  in  the  Music  Hall, 
or  Lecture  Room,  in  Newcastle. 

Here  I  first  had  an  opportunity  of  coming  in  contact 
with  a  portion  of  the  laboring  people  of  Britain.  I 
have  addressed  large  and  influential  meetings  in  New- 
castle and  the  neighboring  towns,  and  the  more  I  see  and 
learn  of  the  condition  of  the  working-classes  of  England, 
the  more  I  am  satisfied  of  the  utter  fallacy  of  the  state- 
ments often  made  that  their  condition  approximates  to  that 
of  the  slaves  of  America.  Whatever  may  be  the  disad- 
vantages that  the  British  peasant  labors  under,  he  is  free ; 
and  if  he  is  not  satisfied  with  his  employer,  he  can  make 
choice  of  another.  He  also  has  the  right  to  educate 
his  children ;  and  he  is  the  equal  of  the  most  wealthy 
person  before  an  English  court  of  justice.  But  how  is 
it  with  the  American  slave  ?  He  has  no  right  to  him- 
self;  no  right  to  protect  his  wife,  his  child,  or  his  own 
person.  He  is  nothing  more  than  a  living  tool.  Be- 
yond his  field  or  workshop  he  know^s  nothing.  There  is 
no  amount  of  ignorance  he  is  not  capable  of  He  has 
not  the  least  idea  of  the  face  of  this  earth,  nor  of  the 
history  or  constitution  of  the  country  in  which  he  dwells. 
To  him  the  literature,  science  and  art,  the  progressive 
history  and  the  accumulated  discoveries  of  by-gone 
ages,  are  as  if  they  had  never  been.  The  past  is  to  him 
as  yesterday,  and  the  future  scarcely  more  than  to-mor- 
row.    Ancestral  monuments  he  has  none  ;  written  docu- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        141 

ments,  fraught  with  cogitations  of  other  times,  he  has 
none ;  and  any  instrumentality  calculated  to  awaken  and 
expound  the  intellectual  activity  and  comprehension  of  a 
present  or  approaching  generation,  he  has  none.  His 
condition  is  that  of  the  leopard  of  his  own  native  Africa. 
It  lives,  it  propagates  its  kind ;  but  never  does  it  indicate 
a  movement  towards  that  all  but  angelic  intelligence  of 
man.  The  slave  eats,  drinks  and  sleeps,  all  for  the 
benefit  of  the  man  who  claims  his  body  as  his  property. 
Before  the  tribunals  of  his  country  he  has  no  voice.  He 
has  no  higher  appeal  than  the  mere  will  of  his  owner. 
He  knows  nothing  of  the  inspired  Apostles  through  their 
writings.  He  has  no  Sabbath,  no  church,  no  Bible,  no 
means  of  grace, —  and  yet  we  are  told  that  he  is  as  well 
off  as  the  laboring  classes  of  England.  It  is  not  enough 
that  the  people  of  my  country  should  point  to  their 
Declaration  of  Independence,  which  declares  that  ''all 
men  are  created  equal."  It  is  not  enough  that  they 
should  laud  to  the  skies  a  constitution  containing  boasting 
declarations  in  favor  of  freedom.  It  is  not  enough  that 
they  should  extol  the  genius  of  Washington,  the  patriotism 
of  Henry,  or  the  enthusiasm  of  Otis.  The  time  has 
come  w^hen  nations  are  judged  by  the  acts  of  the  pres- 
ent, instead  of  the  past.  And  so  it  must  be  with 
America.  In  no  place  in  the  United  Kingdom  has  the 
American  slave  warmer  friends  than  in  Newcastle. 

^  ^  ^  ^  =i(<  ^    , 

I  am  now  in  Shefiield,  and  have  just  returned  from  a 
visit  to  James  Montgomery,  the  poet.     In  company  with 


142  PLACES  AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

James  Wall,  Esq.,  I  proceeded  to  the  Mount,  the  resi- 
dence of  Mr.  Montgomery ;  and  our  names  being  sent  in, 
we  were  soon  in  the  presence  of  the  '^  Christian  poet.'^  He 
held  in  his  left  hand  the  Eclectic  Review  for  the  month, 
and  with  the  right  gave  me  a  hearty  shake,  and  bade  me 
^'  Welcome  to  Old  England."  He  was  anything  but  like 
the  portraits  I  had  seen  of  him,  and  the  man  I  had  in 
my  mind's  eye.  I  had  just  been  reading  his  ^'Pelican 
Island,"  and  I  eyed  the  poet  with  no  little  interest.  He 
is  under  the  middle  size;  his  forehead  high  and  well 
formed,  the  top  of  which  was  a  little  bald ;  his  hair  of  a 
yellowish  color,  his  eyes  rather  small  and  deep-set,  the 
nose  long  and  slightly  acquiline.  his  mouth  rather  small, 
and  not  at  all  pretty.  He  was  dressed  in  black,  and  a 
large  white  cravat  entirely  hid  his  neck  and  chin ;  his 
having  been  afflicted  from  childhood  with  salt-rheum 
was  doubtless  the  cause  of  his  chin  being  so  completely 
buried  in  the  neckcloth.  Upon  the  whole,  he  looked 
more  like  one  of  our  American  Methodist  parsons  than 
any  one  I  have  seen  in  this  country.  He  entered  freely 
into  conversation  with  us.  He  said  he  should  be  glad  to 
attend  my  lecture  that  evening,  but  that  he  had  long 
since  quit  going  out  at  night.  He  mentioned  having 
heard  William  Lloyd  Garrison  some  years  before,  and 
with  whom  he  was  well  pleased.  He  said  it  had  long 
been  a  puzzle  to  him  how  Americans  could  hold  slaves 
and  still  retain  their  membership  in  the  churches.  When 
we  rose  to  leave,  the  old  man  took  my  hand  between  his 
two,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  said,  ^^  Go  on  your  Chris- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         143 

tian  mission,  and  may  the  Lord  protect  and  prosper  yon  ! 
Your  enslaved  countrymen  have  my  sympathy,  and  shall 
have  my  prayers.''  Thus  ended  our  visit  to  the  bard  of 
Sheffield.  Long  after  I  had  quitted  the  presence  of  the 
poet,  the  following  lines  of  his  were  ringing  in  my  ears : 

** Wandeiei,  "wlnilier  dost  thou  roam? 
Weary  wanderer,  old  and  gray, 
Wherefore  hast  thou  left  thine  home, 
In  the  sunset  of  thy  day  ? 
AVelcome,  wanderer,  as  thou  art, 
All  my  blessings  to  partake  ; 
Yet  thrice  welcome  to  my  heart. 
For  thine  injured  people's  sake. 
Wanderer,  whither  wouldst  thou  roam  ? 
To  what  region  far  away  ? 
Bend  thy  steps  to  find  a  home. 
In  the  twilight  of  thy  day. 
Where  a  tyrant  never  trod. 
Where  a  slave  was  never  known  — 
But  where  Nature  worships  God 
In  the  wilderness  alone." 

Mr.  Montgomery  seems  to  have  thrown  his  entire  soul 
into  his  meditations  on  the  wrongs  of  Switzerland.  The 
poem  which  we  have  just  quoted  is  unquestionably  one 
of  his  best  productions,  and  contains  more  of  the  fire  of 
enthusiasm  than  all  his  other  works.  We  feel  a  rever- 
ence almost  amounting  to  superstition  for  the  poet  who 
deals  with  nature.  And  w4io  is  more  capable  of  under- 
standing the  human  heart  than  the  poet  ?  Who  has  bet- 
ter known  the  human  feelings  than  Shakspeare ;  better 


144        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

painted  than  Milton  the  grandeur  of  virtue;  better 
sighed  than  Byron  over  the  subtle  weaknesses  of  Hope  ? 
Who  ever  had  a  sounder  taste,  a  more  exact  intellect, 
than  Dante  ?  or  who  has  ever  tuned  his  harp  more  in 
favor  of  freedom  than  our  own  Whittier  1 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  How  changed,  alas  !  from  that  revered  abode. 
Graced  by  proud  majesty  in  ancient  days, 
When  monks  recluse  these  sacred  pavements  trod, 
And  taught  the  unlettered  world  its  Maker's  praise  ! 

Keats.    • 

In  passing  through  Yorkshire,  we  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  it  offered  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  extensive  and 
interesting  ruin  of  Kirkstall  Abbey,  which  lies  embo- 
somed in  a  beautiful  recess  of  Airedale,  about  three  miles 
from  Leeds.  A  pleasant  drive  over  a  smooth  road 
brought  us  abruptly  in  sight  of  the  Abbey.  The  tran- 
quil and  pensive  beauty  of  the  desolate  monastery,  as  it 
reposes  in  the  lap  of  pastoral  luxuriance,  and  amidst  the 
touching  associations  of  seven  centuries,  is  almost  beyond 
description,  when  viewed  from  where  we  first  beheld  it. 
After  arriving  at  its  base,  we  stood  for  some  moments 
under  the  mighty  arches  that  lead  into  the  great  hall, 
gazing  at  its  old  gray  walls  frowning  with  age.  At  the 
distance  of  a  small  field,  the  Aire  is  seen  gliding  past 
the  foot  of  the  lawn  on  which  the  ruin  stands,  after  it 
has  left  those  precincts,  sparkling  over  a  weir  with  a 
13 


146        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD. 

pleasing  murmur.     We  could  fully  enter  into  the  feel- 
ings of  the  poet  when  he  says  : 

**  Beautiful  fabric  !  even  in  decay 

And  desolation,  beauty  still  is  thine  ; 
As  the  rich  sunset  of  an  autumn  day, 

When  gorgeous  clouds  in  glorious  hues  combine 
To  render  homage  to  its  slow  decline. 

Is  more  majestic  in  its  parting  hour  : 
Even  so  thy  mouldering,  venerable  shrine 
Possesses  now  a  more  subduing  power 
Than  in  thine  earlier  sway,  with  pomp  and  pride  thy  dower." 

The  tale  of  ^-Mary,  the  Maid  of  the  Inn,"  is  sup- 
posed, and  not  without  foundation,  to  be  connected  with 
this  abbey.  ''Hark  to  Eover,"  the  name  of  the  house 
where  the  key  is  kept,  was,  a  century  ago,  a  retired  inn 
or  pot-house,  and  the  haunt  of  many  a  desperate  high- 
wayman and  poacher.  The  anecdote  is  so  well  known 
that  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  relate  it.  It,  however,  is 
briefly  this : 

''  One  stormy  night,  as  two  travellers  sat  at  the  inn, 
each  having  exhausted  his  news,  the  conversation  was 
directed  to  the  abbey,  the  boisterous  night,  and  Mary's 
heroism ;  when  a  bet  was  at  last  made  by  one  of  them, 
that  she  would  not  go  and  bring  back  from  the  nave  a 
slip  of  the  alder-tree  growing  there.  Mary,  however, 
did  go ;  but,  having  nearly  reached  the  tree,  she  heard  a 
low,  indistinct  dialogue ;  at  the  same  time,  something 
black  fell  and  rolled  towards  her,  which  afterwards 
proved  to  be  a  hat.  Directing  her  attention  to  the  place 
whence  the  conversation  proceeded,  she  saw,  from  behind 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         147 

a  pillar,  two  men  carrying  a  murdered  body :  they 
passed  near  tlie  place  where  she  stood,  a  heavy  cloud  was 
swept  from  off  the  face  of  the  moon,  and  Mary  fell  sense- 
less —  one  of  the  murderers  was  her  intended  husband  ! 
She  was  awakened  from  her  swoon,  but  — her  reason 
had  fled  forever."  Mr.  Southey  wrote  a  beautiful 
poem  founded  on  this  story,  which  will  be  found  in  his 
published  works.  We  spent  nearly  three  hours  in  wan- 
dering through  these  splendid  ruins.  It  is  both  curious 
and  interesting  to  trace  the  early  history  of  these  old 
piles,  which  become  the  resort  of  thousands,  nine  tenths 
of  whom  are  unaware  either  of  the  classic  ground  on 
which  they  tread,  or  of  the  peculiar  interest  throwi;i 
around  the  spot  by  the  deeds  of  remote  ages. 

During  our  stay  in  Leeds,  we  had  the  good  fortune  to 
become  acquainted  with  Wilson  Armistead,  Esq.  This 
gentleman  is  well  known  as  an  able  writer  against  slave- 
ry. His  most  elaborate  work  is  ^^A  Tribute  for  the 
Negro."  This  is  a  volume  of  five  hundred  and  sixty 
pages,  and  is  replete  with  facts  refuting  the  charges  of 
inferiority  brought  against  the  negro  race.  Few  Eng- 
lish gentlemen  have  done  more  to  hasten  the  day  of  the 
slave's  liberation  than  Wilson  Armistead. 

A  few  days  after,  I  paid  a  visit  to  Newstead  Abbey, 
the  far-famed  residence  of  Lord  Byron.  I  posted  from 
Hucknall  over  to  Newstead  one  pleasant  morning,  and, 
being  provided  with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Colonel- 
Wild  man,  I  lost  no  time  in  presenting  myself  at  the  door 
of  the  abbey.     But,  unfortunately  for  me,  the  colonel 


148  PLACES   AND    PEOPLK   ABROAD. 

was  at  Mansfield,  in  attendance  at  the  Assizes  —  he  be- 
ing one  of  the  county  magistrates.  I  did  not,  however, 
lose  the  object  of  my  visit,  as  every  attention  was  paid 
in  showing  me  about  the  premises.  I  felt  as  every  one 
must  who  gazes  for  the  first  time  upon  these  walls,  and 
remembers  that  it  was  here,  even  amid  the  comparative 
ruins  of  a  building  once  dedicated  to  the  sacred  cause  of 
Religion  and  her  twin  sister,  Charity,  that  the  genius  of 
Byron  was  first  developed  ;  here  that  he  paced  with 
youthful  melancholy  the  halls  of  his  illustrious  ancestors, 
and  trode  the  walks  of  the  long-banished  monks.  The 
housekeeper  —  a  remarkably  good-looking  and  polite 
woman  —  showed  us  through  the  different  apartments, 
and  explained  in  the  most  minute  manner  every  object 
of  interest  connected  with  the  interior  of  the  building. 
We  first  visited  the  Monk's  Parlor,  which  seemed  to 
contain  nothing  of  note,  except  a  very  fine-stained  win- 
dow—  one  of  the  figures  representing  St.  Paul,  sur- 
mounted by  a  cross.  We  passed  through  Lord  Byron's 
Bed-room,  the  Haunted  Chamber,  the  Library  and  the 
Eastern  Corridor,  and  halted  in  the  Tapestry  Bed-room, 
which  is  truly  a  magnificent  apartment,  formed  by  the 
Byrons  for  the  use  of  King  Charles  11.  The  ceiling  is 
richly  decorated  with  the  Byron  arms.  We  next  visited 
the  grand  Drawing-room,  probably  the  finest  in  the 
building.  This  saloon  contains  a  large  number  of  splen- 
did portraits,  among  v^hich  is  the  celebrated  portrait  of 
Lord  Byron,  by  Phillips.     In  this  room  we  took  into 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        149 

our  hand  the  skull-cup,  of  which  so  much  has  been  writ- 
ten, and  that  has  on  it : 

*'  Start  not — nor  deem  my  spirit  fled  ; 
In  me  behold  the  only  skull 
From  which,  unlike  a  living  head. 
Whatever  flows  is  never  dull. 

''  I  lived,  I  loved,  I  quaffed  like  thee  ; 
I  died  —  let  earth  my  bones  resign  : 
Fill  up  —  thou  canst  not  injure  me  ; 
The  worm  hath  fouler  lips  than  thine. 

"  Better  to  hold  the  sparkling  grape, 

Than  nurse  the  earth-worm's  slimy  brood  ; 
And  circle  in  the  goblet's  shape 

The  drink  of  gods,  than  reptile's  food. 

**  Where  once  my  wit,  perchance,  hath  shone. 
In  aid  of  others  let  me  shine  ; 
And  when,  alas  !  our  brains  are  gone, 
Yf  hat  nobler  substitute  than  wine  ? 

"  Quaff  while  thou  canst  —  another  race, 
When  thou  and  thine  like  thee  are  sped, 
May  rescue  thee  from  earth's  embrace, 
And  rhyme  and  revel  with  the  dead. 

"  W^hy  not?  since  through  life's  little  day 
Our  heads  such  sad  efiects  produce  ; 
Redeemed  from  worms  and  wasting  clay, 
This  chance  is  theirs,  to  be  of  use." 

Leaving  this  noble  room,  we  descended  by  a  few  pol- 
ished oak  steps  into  the  West  Corridor,  from  which  we 
entered  the  grand   Dining   Hall,  and   through  several 
other  rooms,  until  we  reached  the   Chapel.     Here  wa 
13^ 


150        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

were  shown  a  stone  coffin  which  had  been  found  near  the 
high  altar,  when  the  workmen  were  excavating  the  vault 
intended  by  Lord  Byron  for  himself  and  his  dog.  The 
coffin  contained  the  skeleton  of  an  abbot,  and  also  the 
identical  skull  from  which  the  cup  of  which  I  have 
made  mention  was  made.  We  then  left  the  building, 
and  took  a  stroll  through  the  grounds.  After  passing  a 
pond  of  cold  crystal  water,  we  came  to  a  dark  wood,  in 
which  are  two  leaden  statues  of  Pan,  and  a  female  satyr 
—  very  fine  specimens  as  works  of  art.  We  here  in- 
spected the  tree  whereon  Byron  carved  his  own  name 
and  that  of  his  sister,  with  the  date,  all  of  which  are  still 
legible.  However,  the  tree  is  now  dead,  and  we  were 
informed  that  Colonel  Wildman  intended  to  have  it  cut 
down,  so  as  to  preserve  the  part  containing  the  inscrip- 
tion. After  crossing  an  interesting  and  picturesque  part 
of  the  gardens,  we  arrived  within  the  precincts  of  the 
ancient  chapel,  near  which  we  observed  a  neat  marble 
monument,  and  which  we  supposed  to  have  been  erected 
to  the  memory  of  some  of  the  Byrons ;  but,  on  drawing 
near  to  it,  we  read  the  following  inscription : 

*'  Near  this  spot  are  deposited  the  Remains  of  one  who  possessed  Beauty  without 
Vanity,  Strength  without  Insolence,  Courage  without  Ferocity,  and  all  the  Virtues 
of  Man  without  his  Vices.  This  Praise,  which  would  be  unmeaning  Flattery  if  in- 
scribed over  human  ashes,  is  but  a  just  tribute  to  the  Memory  of  Boatswain,  a 
Dog,  who  was  born  at  Newfoundland,  May,  1803,  and  died  at  Newstead  Abbey, 
1, 1808. 

'*  When  some  proud  son  of  man  returns  to  earth, 
Unknown  to  glory,*  but  upheld  by  birth. 
The  sculptured  art  exhausts  the  pomp  of  woe. 
And  stoned  urns  record  who  rests  below ; 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        151 

When  all  is  done,  upon  the  tomb  is  seen 

Not  what  he  was,  but  what  he  should  have  been. 

But  the  poor  dog,  in  life  the  firmest  friend, 

The  first  to  welcome,  foremost  to  defend, 

Whose  honest  heart  is  still  his  master's  own. 

Who  labors,  fights,  lives,  breathes  for  him  alone, 

Unhonorcd  falls,  unnoticed  all  his  worth. 

Denied  in  heaven  the  soul  he  held  on  earth  ; 

While  man,  vain  insect !  hopes  to  be  forgiven, 

And  claims  himself  a  sole,  exclusive  heaven. 

0,  man  !  thou  feeble  tenant  of  an  hour. 

Debased  by  slavery,  or  corrupt  by  power. 

Who  knows  thee  well  must  quit  thee  with  disgust, 

Degraded  mass  of  animated  dust ; 

Thy  love  is  lust,  thy  friendship  all  a  cheat. 

Thy  smiles  hypocrisy,  thy  words  deceit  ! 

By  nature  vile,  ennobled  but  by  name. 

Each  kindred  brute  might  bid  thee  blush  for  shame. 

Ye,  who  perchance  behold  this  simple  urn. 

Pass  on  —  it  honors  none  you  wish  to  mourn  : 

To  mark  a  friend's  remains  these  stones  arise  ; 

I  never  knew  but  one, —  and  here  he  lies." 

By  a  will  which  his  lordship  executed  in  1811,  he 
directed  that  his  own  body  should  be  buried  in  a  vault  in 
the  garden,  near  his  faithful  dog.  This  feeling  of  affec- 
tion to  his  dumb  and  faithful  follower,  commendable  in 
itself,  seems  here  to  have  been  carried  beyond  the  bounds 
of  reason  and  propriety. 

In  another  part  of  the  grounds  we  saw  the  oak-tree 
planted  by  the  poet  himself.  It  has  now  attained  a 
goodly  size,  considering  the  growth  of  the  oak,  and  bids 
fair  to  become  a  lasting  memento  to  the  noble  bard,  and 
to  be  a  shrine  to  which  thousands  of  pilgrims  will  resort 


152        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

in  future  ages,  to  do  homage  to  his  mighty  genius.  This 
tree  promises  to  share  in  after  times  the  celebrity  of 
Shakspeare's  mulberry,  and  Pope's  willow.  Near  by,  and 
in  the  tall  trees,  the  rooks  were  keeping  up  a  tremendous 
noise.  After  seeing  everything  of  interest  connected 
with  the  great  poet,  we  entered  our  chaise,  and  left  the 
premises.  As  we  were  leaving,  I  turned  to  take  a  fare- 
well look  at  the  abbey,  standing  in  solemn  grandeur, 
the  long  ivy  clinging  fondly  to  the  rich  tracery  of  a 
former  age.  Proceeding  to  the  little  town  of  Hucknall, 
we  entered  the  old  gray  parish  church,  which  has  for 
ages  been  the  last  resting-place  of  the  Byrons,  and  where 
repose  the  ashes  of  the  poet,  marked  by  a  neat  marble 
slabj  bearing  the  following  inscription  : 

In  the  vault  beneath, 
where  many  of  his  Ancestors  and  his  Mother  are 
Buried, 
lie  the  remains  of 
George  Gordon  Noel  Byron, 
Lord  Byron,  of  Rochdale, 
in  the  County  of  Lancaster, 
the  author  of*  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage." 
He  was  born  in  London,  on  the 
22nd  of  January,  1788. 
He  died  at  Missolonghi,  in  Western  Greece,  on  the 

19th  of  April,  1824, 

Engaged  in  the  glorious  attempt  to  restore  that 

country  to  her  ancient  grandeur  and  renown. 

His  Sister,  the  Honorable 
Augusta  Maria  Leigh, 
placed  this  Tablet  to  his  Memory. 


•    PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD.  153 

From  an  Album  that  is  kept  for  visitors  to  register 
their  names  in^  I  copied  the  following  lines^  composed  by 
William  Howitt,  immediately  after  the  interment : 

*'  Rest  in  thy  tomb,  young  lieir  of  glory,  rest ! 
Rest  in  thy  rustic  tomb,  wliich  thou  shalt  make 
A  spot  of  light  upon  thy  country's  breast, 
Known,  honored,  haunted  ever  for  tliy  sake. 
Thither  romantic  pilgrims  shall  betake 
Themselves  from  distant  lands.     When  we  are  still 
In  centuries  of  sleep,  thy  fame  shall  vrake. 
And  thy  great  memory  with  deep  feelings  fill 
These  scenes  which  thou  hast  trod,  and  hallow  every  hill.'' 

This  closed  my  visit  to  the  interesting  scenes  associated 
with  Byron's  strange  and  eventful  history —  scenes  that' 
ever  acquire  a  growing  charm  as  the  lapse  of  years  softens 
the  errors  of  the  man,  and  confirms  the  genius  of  the 
poet. 

The  following  lines,  written  by  Byron  in  early  life, 
were  realized  in  his  death  in  a  foreign  land : 

**  When  Time  or  soon  or  late  shall  bring 
The  dreamless  sleep  that  lulls  the  dead, 
Oblivion  !  may  thy  languid  limb 
Wave  gently  o'er  my  dying  bed  ! 

"  No  band  of  friends  or  heirs  be  there, 
To  weep,  or  wish  the  coming  blow  : 
No  maiden,  with  dishevelled  hair, 
To  feel,  or  feign,  decorous  woe. 

"  But  silent  let  me  sink  to  Earth, 

With  no  officious  mourners  near  ; 
I  would  not  mar  one  hour  of  miith, 
Nor  startle  friendship  with  a  tear." 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

**  Now,  this  once  gorgeous  edifice,  if  reared 
^  By  piety,  which  sought  with  honest  aim 

The  glory  of  the  Lord,  should  be  revered 

Even  for  that  cause,  by  those  who  seek  the  same. 
Perchance  the  builders  erred  ;  but  who  shall  blame 

Error,  nor  feel  that  they  partake  it  too  ? 
Then  judge  with  charity,  whate'er  thy  name, 

Be  thou  a  Pagan,  Protestant,  or  Jew  ; 
Nor  with  a  scornful  glance  these  Papal  reliques  view." 

Barton. 

It  was  on  a  lovely  morning  that  I  found  myself  on 
board  the  little  steamer  Wye,  passing  out  of  Bristol 
harbor.  In  going  down  the  river,  we  saw  on  our  right 
the  stupendous  rocks  of  St.  Vincent  towering  some  four 
or  five  hundred  feet  above  our  heads.  By  the  swiftness 
of  our  fairy  steamer,  we  were  soon  abreast  of  Cook's 
Folly,  a  singular  tower,  built  by  a  man  from  whom  it 
takes  its  name,  and  of  which  the  following  romantic  story 
is  told  :  ^'  Some  years  since  a  gentleman,  of  the  name 
of  Cook,  erected  this  tower,  which  has  since  gone  by  the 
name  of  '  Cook's  Folly.'  A  son  having  been  born,  he 
was  desirous  of  ascertaining,  by  means  of  astrology,  if  he 
would  live  to  enjoy  his  property.     Being  himself  a  firm 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        155 

believer,  like  the  poet  Dryden,  that  certain  information 
might  be  obtained  from  the  above  science,  he  caused  the 
child's  horoscope  to  be  drawn,  and  found,  to  his  dismay, 
that  in  his  third,  sixteenth,  or  twenty-first  year,  he 
w^ould  be  in  danger  of  meeting  Avith  some  fearful  calamity 
or  sudden  death,  to  avert  which  he  caused  the  turret  to 
be  constructed,  and  the  child  placed  therein.  Secure,  as 
he  vainly  thought,  there  he  lived,  attended  by  a  faithful 
servant,  their  food  and  fuel  being  conveyed  to  them  by 
means  of  a  pulley-basket,  until  he  was  old  enough  to  wait 
upon  himself  On  the  eve  of  his  twenty-first  year  his 
parent's  hopes  rose  high,  and  great  were  the  rejoicings 
prepared  to  welcome  the  young  heir  to  his  home.  But, 
alas  !  no  human  skill  could  avert  the  dark  fate  which 
clung  to  him.  The  last  night  he  had  to  pass  alone  in 
the  turret,  a  bundle  of  fagots  was  conveyed  to  him  as 
usual,  in  which  lay  concealed  a  viper,  which  clung  to  his 
hand.  The  bite  was  fatal ;  and,  instead  of  being  borne 
in  triumph,  the  dead  body  of  his  only  son  was  the  sad 
spectacle  which  met  the  sight  of  his  father." 

We  crossed  the  channel,  and  soon  entered  the  mouth 
of  that  most  picturesque  of  rivers,  the  Wye.  As  we 
neared  the  town  of  Chepstow  the  old  castle  made  its  ap- 
pearance, and  a  fine  old  ruin  it  is.  Being  previously 
provided  with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  a  gentleman  in 
Chepstow,  I  lost  no  time  in  finding  him  out.  This  gen- 
tleman gave  me  a  cordial  reception,  and  did  what  Eng- 
lishmen seldom  ever  do,  lefit  me  his  saddle-horse  to  ride 
to  the  abbey.     While  lunch  was  in  preparation  I  took  a 


156         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABEOAD. 

stroll  through  the  castle  which  stood  near  by.  We 
entered  the  castle  through  the  great  doorway,  and  were 
soon  treading  the  walls  that  had  once  sustained  the 
cannon  and  the  sentinel,  but  were  now  covered  with 
weeds  and  wild-flowers.  The  drum  and  fife  had  once 
been  heard  within  these  walls  —  the  only  music  now  is 
the  cawing  of  the  rook  and  daw.  We  paid  a  hasty  visit 
to  the  various  apartments,  remaining  longest  in  those  of 
most  interest.  The  room  in  which  Martin  the  Regicide 
was  imprisoned  nearly  twenty  years  was  pointed  out  to 
to  us.  The  Castle  of  Chepstow  is  still  a  magnificent 
pile,  towering  upon  the  brink  of  a  stupendous  cliff,  on 
reaching  the  top  of  which,  we  had  a  splendid  view  of  the 
surrounding  country.  Time,  however,  compelled  us  to 
retrace  our  steps,  and,  after  partaking  of  a  lunch,  we 
mounted  a  horse  for  the  first  time  in  ten  years,  and 
started  for  Tintern  Abbey.  The  distance  from  Chepstow 
to  the  abbey  is  about  five  miles,  and  the  road  lies  along 
the  banks  of  the  river.  The  river  is  walled  in  on  either 
side  by  hills  of  much  beauty,  clothed  from  base  to  summit 
with  the  richest  verdure.  I  can  conceive  of  nothing 
more  striking  than  the  first  appearance  of  the  abbey. 
As  we  rounded  a  hill,  all  at  once  we  saw  the  old  ruin 
standing  before  us  in  all  its  splendor.  This  celebrated 
ecclesiastical  relic  of  the  olden  time  is  doubtless  the  finest 
ruin  of  its  kind  in  Europe.  Embosomed  amongst  hills, 
and  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  most  fairy-like  river  in 
the  world,  its  beauty  can  scarcely  be  surpassed.  We 
halted  at  the  '^  Beaufort  Arms,"  left  our  horse,  and  sal- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         157 

lied  forth  to  view  the  abbey.  The  sun  was  pouring  a 
flood  of  light  upon  the  old  gray  walls,  lighting  up  its 
dark  recesses,  as  if  to  give  us  a  better  opportunity  of 
viewing  it.  I  gazed  with  astonishment  and  admiration 
at  its  many  beauties,  and  especially  at  the  superb  Gothic 
windows  over  the  entrance-door.  The  beautiful  Gothic 
pillars,  with  here  and  there  a  representation  of  a  praying 
priest,  and  mailed  knights,  with  saints  and  Christian 
martyrs,  and  the  hundreds  of  Scriptural  representations, 
all  indicate  that  this  was  a  place  of  considerable  import- 
ance in  its  palmy  days.  The  once  stone  floor  had  disap- 
peared, and  we  found  ourselves  standing  on  a  floor  of 
unbroken  green  grass,  swelling  back  to  the  old  walls,  and 
looking  so  verdant  and  silken  that  it  seemed  the  very 
floor  of  fancy.  There  are  more  romantic  and  w^ilder 
places  than  this  in  the  world,  but  none  more  beautiful. 
The  preservation  of  these  old  abbeys  should  claim  the 
attention  of  those  under  whose  charge  they  are,  and  we 
felt  like  joining  with  the  poet,  and  saying  — 

"  0  ye  who  dwell 
Around  yon  ruins,  guard  the  precious  charge 
From  hands  profane  !    0  save  the  sacred  pile  — 
O'er  which  the  wing  of  centuries  has  flown 
Darkly  and  silently,  deep-shadowing  all 
Its  pristine  honors  —  from  the  ruthless  grasp 
Of  future  violation  !  " 

In  contemplating  these  ruins  more  closely,  the  mind 
insensibly  reverts  to  the  period  of  feudal  and  regal  op- 
pression, when   structures   like  that  of  Tintern  Abbey 
14 


158        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

necessarily  became  the  scenes  of  stirring  and  highly- 
important  events.  How  altered  is  the  scene  !  Where 
were  formerly  magnificence  and  splendor,  the  glittering 
array  of  priestly  prowess,  the  crowded  halls  of  haughty 
bigots,  and  the  prison  of  religious  offenders,  there  is  now 
but  a  heap  of  mouldering  ruins.  The  oppressed  and  the 
oppressor  have  long  since  lain  down  together  in  the  peace- 
ful grave.  The  ruin,  generally  speaking,  is  unusually 
perfect,  and  the  sculpture  still  beautifully  sharp.  The 
outward  walls  are  nearly  entire,  and  are  thickly  clad 
with  ivy.  Many  of  the  windows  are  also  in  a  good  state 
of  preservation ;  but  the  roof  has  long  since  fallen  in. 
The  feathered  songsters  were  fluttering  about,  and  pour- 
ing forth  their  artless  lays  as  a  tribute  of  joy ;  while  the 
lowing  of  the  herds,  the  bleating  of  flocks,  and  the  hum 
of  bees  upon  the  farm  near  by,  all  burst  upon  the  ear, 
and  gave  the  scene  a  picturesque  sublimity  that  can  be 
easier  imagined  than  described.  Most  assuredly  Shaks- 
peare  had  such  ruins  in  view  when  he  exclaimed, 

"  The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yes,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve, 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision. 
Leave  not  a  wreck  behind." 

In  the  afternoon  we  returned  to  Bristol,  and  I  spent 
the  greater  part  of  the  next  day  in  examining  the  inte- 
rior of  Eedcliffe  Church.  Few  places  in  the  west  of 
England  have  greater  claims  upon  the  topographer  and 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABKOAJJ.  159 

historian  than  the  church  of  St.  Mary's,  Redcliffe.  Its 
antiquity,  the  beauty  of  its  architecture,  and,  above  all, 
the  interesting  circumstances  connected  with  its  history, 
entitle  it  to  peculiar  notice.  It  is  also  associated  with  the 
enterprise  of  genius ;  for  its  name  has  been  blended  with 
the  reputation  of  Rowley,  of  Canynge,  and  of  Chatterton, 
and  no  lover  of  poetry  and  admirer  of  art  can  visit  it 
without  a  degree  of  enthusiasm.  And,  w^hen  the  old 
building  shall  have  mouldered  into  ruins,  even  these  will 
be  trodden  with  veneration,  as  sacred  to  the  recollection 
of  genius  of  the  highest  order.  Ascending  a  winding 
stair,  w^e  were  shown  into  the  treasury  room.  The  room 
forms  an  irregular  octagon,  admitting  light  through  nar- 
row, unglazed  apertures,  upon  the  broken  and  scattered 
fragments  of  the  famous  Kowleian  chests,  that,  wdth  the 
rubble  and  dust  of  centuries,  cover  the  floor.  It  is  here 
creative  fancy  pictures  forth  the  sad  image  of  the  spirit 
of  the  spot  —  the  ardent  boy,  flushed  and  fed  by  hope, 
musing  on  the  brilliant  deception  he  had  conceived, 
whose  daring  attempt  has  left  his  name  unto  the  intel- 
lectual world  as  a  marvel  and  a  mystery. 

That  a  boy  under  tw^elve  years  of  age  should  write  a 
series  of  poems,  imitating  the  style  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, and  palm  these  poems  off  upon  the  world  as  the 
work  of  a  monk,  is  indeed  strange;  and  that  these 
should  become  the.  object  of  interesting  contemplation 
to  the  literary  world,  and  should  awaken  inquiries, 
and  exercise  the  talents  of  a  Southey,  a  Bryant,  a 
Miller,  a  Mathias,  and  others,   savors  more  of  romance 


160  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

than  reality.     I  had  visited  the  room  in   a  garret   in 
High  Holborn  where   this  poor  boy  died ;  I  had  stood 
over  a  grave  in  the  burial-ground  of  Shoe-Lane  Work- 
house,   which   was   pointed  out  to  me  as  the  last  rest- 
ing-place of   Chatterton ;    and  now   I  was  in  the  room 
where,  it  was  alleged,  he  obtained  the  manuscripts  that 
gave  him  such   notoriety.     We  descended  and  viewed 
other  portions  of  the  church.     The  effect  of  the  chancel, 
as  seen  behind  the  pictures,  is   very  singular,  and  sug- 
gestive of  many   swelling    thoughts.     We   look   at  the 
great  east  window — it  is  unadorned  with   its   wonted 
painted  glass ;  we  look  at  the  altar-screen  beneath,  on 
which  the  light  of  day  again  falls,  and  behold  the  injuries 
it  has  received  at  the  hands  of  time.     There  is  a  dreary 
mournfulness  in  the  scene  which  fastens  on  the  mind, 
and  is  in  unison  with   the  time-worn  mouldering  frag- 
ments that  are  seen  all  around  us.     And  this  dreariness 
is  not  removed  by  our  tracing  the  destiny  of  man  on  the 
storied  pavements  or  on  the  graven  brass,  that  still  bears 
upon  its  surface  the  names  of  those  who  obtained  the 
world's  regard  years  back.     This  old  pile  is  not  only  an 
ornament  to  the  city,  but  it  stands  a  living  monument  to 
the  genius  of  its  founder.     Bristol  has  long  sustained  a 
high  position,  as  a  place  from  which  the  American  abo- 
litionists  have   received   substantial   encouragement    in 
their  arduous  labors  for  the   emancipation  of  the  slaves 
of  that  land ;  and  the  writer  of  this  received  the  best 
evidence  that  in  this  respect  the  character  of  the  people 
had  not  been  exaggerated,    especially  as  regards   the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        161 

^^  Clifton  LadiesV  An ti- Slavery  Society."  From  Bristol 
I  paid  a  hasty  visit  to  the  Scotch  capital. 

Edinburgh  is  the  most  picturesque  of  all  the  towns 
which  I  have  visited  since  my  arrival  in  the  father-land. 
Its  situation  has  been  compared  to  that  of  Athens ;  but  it 
is  said  that  the  modern  Athens  is  superior  to  the  ancient. 
I  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  idea  that  I  had  seen  the 
most  beautiful  of  cities,  after  beholding  those  fashionable 
resorts,  Paris  and  Versailles.  I  have  seen  nothing  in 
the  way  of  public  grounds  to  compare  with  the  gardens 
of  Versailles,  or  the  Champs  Elysees,  at  Paris ;  and  as 
for  statuary,  the  latter  place  is  said  to  take  the  lead  of 
the  rest  of  the  world. 

The  general  appearance  of  Edinburgh  prepossesses  one 
in  its  favor.  The  town,  being  built  upon*the  brows  of  a 
large  terrace,  presents  the  most  wonderful  perspective. 
Its  first  appearance  to  a  stranger,  and  the  first  impres- 
sion, can  scarcely  be  but  favorable.  In  my  first  walk 
through  the  town  I  was  struck  with  the  difierence  in  the 
appearance  of  the  people  from  the  English.  But  the  dif- 
ference between  the  Scotch  and  the  Americans  is  very 
great.  The  cheerfulness  depicted  in  the  countenances  of 
the  people  here,  and  their  free-and-easy  appearance,  is 
very  striking  to  a  stranger.  He  who  taught  the  sun  to 
shine,  the  flowers  to  bloom,  the  birds  to  sing,  and  blesses 
ns  with  rain,  never  intended  that  his  creatures  should 
look  sad.  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  the  Amer- 
icans and  any  other  people  which  I  have  seen.  The 
14=^ 


162        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

Scotch  are  healthy  and  robust,  unlike  the  long-faced, 
sickly-looking  Americans. 

While  on  our  journey  from  London  to  Paris,  to  attend 
the  Peace  Congress,  I  could  not  but  observe  the  marked 
difference  between  the  English  and  American  delegates. 
The  former  looked  as  if  their  pockets  had  been  filled 
with  sandwiches,  made  of  good  bread  and  roast  beef  ; 
while  the  latter  appeared  as  if  their  pockets  had  been 
filled  with  Hollo  way's  pills  and  Mrs.  Kidder's  cordial. 

I  breakfasted  this  morning  in  a  room  in  which  the  poet 
Burns,  as  I  was  informed,  had  often  sat.  The  conversa- 
tion here  turned  upon  Burns.  -  The  lady  of  the  house 
pointed  to  a  scrap  of  poetry  which  was  in  a  frame  hang- 
ing on  the  wall,  written,  as  she  said,  by  the  poet,  on 
hearing  the  people  rejoicing  in  a  church  over  the  intelli- 
gence of  a  victory.     I  copied  it,  and  will  give  it  to  you  : 

"  Ye  liypocrites  !  are  these  your  pranks. 
To  murder  men  and  give  God  thanks  ? 
For  shame  !  give  o'er,  proceed  no  farther  ; 
God  won't  accept  your  thanks  for  murder." 

The  fact  that  I  was  in  the  room  where  Scotland's  great 
national  poet  had  been  a  visitor  caused  me  to  feel  that  I 
was  on  classic,  if  not  hallowed  ground.  On  returning 
from  our  morning  visit,  we  met  a  gentleman  with  a  col- 
ored lady  on  each  arm.     0 remarked,  in  a  very  dry 

manner,  ''If  they  were  in  Georgia,  the  slaveholders 
would  make  them  walk  in  a  more  hurried  gait  than  they 
do."     I  said  to  my  friend  that,   if  he  meant  the  pro- 


PLACES   AND     PEOPLE   ABllOAD.  163 

slavery  prejudice  would  not  suffer  them  to  walk  peace- 
ably through  the  streets,  they  need  go  no  further  than 
the  pro-slavery  cities  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia. 
When  walking  through  the  streets,  I  amused  myself  by 
*watching  C— — 's  countenance ;  and,  in  doing  so,  imagined 
I  saw  the  changes  experienced  by  every  fugitive  slave  in 
his  first  month's  residence  in  this  country.  A  sixteen 
months'  residence  has  not  yet  familiarized  me  with  the 

change. 

'^1$  ^  ^  :^f  ■^  -^ 

I  remained  in  Edinburgh  a  day  or  two,  which  gave  me 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  some  of  the  lions  in  the  way  of 

public  buildings,  &c.,  in  company  with  our  friend  C . 

I  paid  a  visit  to  the  Royal  Institute,  and  inspected  the 
very  fine  collection  of  paintings,  statues,  and  other  pro- 
ductions of  art.  The  collection  in  the  Institute  is  not  to 
be  compared  to  the  British  Museum  at  London,  or  the 
Louvre  at  Paris,  but  is  probably  the  best  in  Scotland. 
Paintings  from  the  hands  of  many  of  the  masters,  such 
as  Sir  A.  Vandyke,  Tiziano,  Vercellio  and  Van  Dellen, 
were  hanging  on  the  wall,  and  even  the  names  of  Ru- 
bens and  Titian  were  attached  to  some  of  the  finer  speci- 
mens. Many  of  these  represent  some  of  the  nobles  and 
distinguished  families  of  Rome,  Athens,  Greece,  &c.  A 
beautiful  one,  representing  a  group  of  the  Lomellini 
family  of  Genoa,  seemed  to  attract  the  attention  of  most 
of  the  visitors. 

In  visiting  this  place,  we   passed  close  by  the  monu- 
ment of  Sir  Walter  Scott.     This  is  the  most  exquisite 


164  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

thing  of  the  kind  that  I  have  seen  since  coming  to  this 
country.  It  is  said  to  be  the  finest  monument  in  Europe. 
There  sits  the  author  of  '' Waverley,"  with  a  book  and 
pencil  in  hand,  taking  notes.  A  beautiful  dog  is  seated 
by  his  side.  Whether  this  is  meant  to  represent  his 
favorite  dog,  Camp,  at  whose  death  the  poet  shed  so 
many  tears,  we  were  not  informed ;  but  I  was  of  opinion 
that  it  might  be  the  faithful  Percy,  whose  monument 
stands  in  the  grounds  at  Abbotsford.  Scott  was  an  ad- 
mirer of  the  canine  tribe.  One  may  form  a  good  idea 
of  the  appearance  of  this  distinguished  writer  when  liv- 
ing, by  viewing  this  remarkable  statue.  The  statue  is 
very  beautiful,  but  not  equal  to  the  one  of  Lord  Byron, 
which  was  executed  to  be  placed  by  the  side  of  Johnson, 
Milton  and  Addison,  in  Poets'  Corner,  Westminster 
Abbey ;  but  the  vestry  not  allowing  it  a  place  there,  it 
now  stands  in  one  of  the  colleges  at  Cambridge.  While 
viewing  the  statue  of  Byron,  I  thought  he,  too,  should 
have  been  represented  with  a  dog  by  his  side ;  for  he,  like 
Scott,  was  remarkably  fond  of  dogs ;  so  much  so  that  he 
intended  to  have  his  favorite.  Boatswain,  interred  by  his 
side. 

We  paid  a  short  visit  to  the  monuments  of  Burns  and 
Allan  Bamsay,  and  the  renow^ned  old  Edinburgh  Castle. 
The  castle  is  now  used  as  a  barrack  for  infantry.  It  is 
accessible  only  from  the  High  Street,  and  must  have  been 
impregnable  before  the  discovery  of  gunpowder.  In  the 
wars  with  the  English,  it  was  twice  taken  by  stratagem  ; 
once  in  a  very  daring  manner,  by  climbing  up  the  most 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        165 

inaccessible  part  of  the  rock  upon  which  it  stands,  and 
where  a  foe  was  least  expected,  and  putting  the  guard  to 
death  ;  and  at  another  time,  by  a  party  of  soldiers  dis- 
guising themselves  as  merchants,  and  obtaining  admis- 
sion inside  the  castle  gates.  They  succeeded  in  prevent- 
ing the  gates  from  being  closed  until  reinforced  by  a 
party  of  men  under  Sir  Wm.  Douglas,  who  soon  over- 
powered the  occupants  of  the  castle. 

We  could  not  resist  the  temptation  held  out  to  see  the 
palace  of  Holyrood.  It  was  in  this  place  that  the  beau- 
tiful but  unfortunate  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  resided  for 
a  number  of  years.  On  reaching  the  palace,  we  were 
met  at  the  door  by  an  elderly-looking  woman,  wdth  a  red 
face,  garnished  with  a  pair  of  second-hand  curls,  the 
whole  covered  with  a  cap  having  the  widest  border  that  I 
had  seen  for  years.  She  was  very  kind  in  showing  us 
about  the  premises,  especially  as  we  were  foreigners,  no 
doubt  expecting  an  extra  fee  for  politeness.  The  most 
interesting  of  the  many  rooms  in  this  ancient  castle  is 
the  one  which  was  occupied  by  the  queen,  and  where  her 
Italian  favorite,  Rizzio,  was  murdered. 

But  by  far  the  most  interesting  object  which  we 
visited  while  in  Edinburgh  was  tne  house  where  the  cele- 
brated Reformer,  John  Knox,  resided.  It  is  a  queer-looking 
old  building,  with  a  pulpit  on  the  outside,  and  above  the 
door  are  the  nearly  obliterated  remains  of  the  follow- 
ing inscription:  '^  Lufe.  God.  Above.  Al.  And.  your. 
Nichbour.  As  you.  Self"  This  was  probably  traced 
under  the  immediate  direction  of  the  great  Reformer. 


166        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

Such  an  inscription  put  upon  a  house  of  worship  at  the 
present  day  would  be  laughed  at.  I  have  given  it  to 
you,  punctuation  and  all,  just  as  it  stands. 

The  general  architecture  of  Edinburgh  is  very  impos- 
ing, whether  we  regard  the  picturesque  disorder  of  the 
buildings  in  the  Old  Town,  or  the  symmetrical  propor- 
tions of  the  streets  and  squares  in  the  New.  But  on 
viewing  this  city,  which  has  the  reputation  of  being  the 
finest  in  Europe,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  had  none 
of  those  sumptuous  structures  which,  like  St.  Paul's, 
or  Westminster  Abbey,  York  Minster,  and  some  other 
of  the  English  provincial  cathedrals,  astonish  the  behold- 
er alike  by  their  magnitude  and  their  architectural 
splendor.  But  in  no  city  which  I  have  visited  in  the 
kingdom  is  the  general  standard  of  excellence  better 
maintained  than  in  Edinburgh. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"  I  was  a  traveller  then  upon  the  moor  ; 
I  saw  the  hare  that  raced  about  with  joy  ; 
I  heard  the  woods  and  distant  waters  roar, 
Or  heard  them  not,  as  happy  as  a  boy." 

Wordsworth. 

I  AM  glad  once  more  to  breathe  an  atmosphere  uncon- 
taminated  by  the  fumes  and  smoke  of  a  city  with  its 
population  of  three  hundred  thousand  inhabitants.     In 

company  with  my  friend  C ^,  I  left  Glasgow  on  the 

afternoon  of  the  23d  inst.,  for  Dundee,  a  beautiful  town 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Tay.  One  like  my- 
self, who  has  spent  the  best  part  of  an  eventful  life  in 
cities,  and  who  prefers,  as  I  do,  a  country  to  a  town  life, 
feels  a  greater  degree  of  freedom  when  surrounded  by 
forest  trees,  or  country  dwellings,  and  looking  upon  a 
clear  sky,  than  when  walking  through  the  thronged 
thoroughfares  of  a  city,  with  its  dense  population,  meet- 
ing every  moment  a  new  or  strange  face,  which  one  has 
never  seen  before,  and  never  expects  to  see  again. 

Although  I  had  met  with  one  of  the  warmest  public 
receptions  with  which  I  have  been  greeted  since  my  ar* 
rival  in  the  country,  and  had  had  an  opportunity  of  shak- 


168        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

ing  hands  with  many  noble  friends  of  the  slave,  whose 
names  I  had  often  seen  in  print,  yet  I  felt  glad  to  see 
the  tall  chimneys  and  smoke  of  Glasgow  receding  in  the 
distance,  as  our  ''iron-horse"  was  taking  us  with  almost 
lightning  speed  from  the  commercial  capital  of  Scotland. 

The  distance  from  Glasgow  to  Dundee  is  some  seventy 
or  eighty  miles,  and  we  passed  through  the  finest  coun- 
try which  I  have  seen  in  this  portion  of  the  queen's 
dominions.  We  passed  through  the  old  town  of  Stirling, 
which  lies  about  thirty  miles  distant  from  Glasgow,  and 
is  a  place  much  frequented  by  those  who  travel  for  pleas- 
ure. It  is  built  on  the  brow^  of  a  hill,  and  the^  castle 
from  which  it  most  probably  derived  its  name  may  be 
seen  from  a  distance.  Had  it  not  been  for  a  ''  profes- 
sional "  engagement  the  same  evening  at  Dundee,  I 
would  most  assuredly  have  halted  to  take  a  look  at  the 
old  building. 

The  castle  is  situated  or  built  on  an  isolated  rock, 
which  seems  as  if  nature  had  thrown  it  there  for  that 
purpose.  It  was  once  the  retreat  of  the  Scottish  kings, 
and  famous  for  its  historical  associations.  Here  the 
''  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  with  the  magic  ring,  sought  the 
monarch  to  intercede  for  her  father ;  here  James  II. 
murdered  the  Earl  of  Douglas ;  here  the  beautiful  but 
unfortunate  Mary  was  made  queen ;  and  here  John 
Knox,  the  Reformer,  preached  the  coronettion  sermon  of 
James  VI.  The  Castle  Hill  rises  from  the  valley  of  the 
Forth,  and  makes  an  imposing  and  picturesque  appear- 
ance.    The  windings  of  the  noble  river,  till  lost  in  the 


•  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD.  169 

distance,  present  pleasing  contrasts,  scarcely  to  be  sur- 
passed. 

The  speed  of  our  train,  after  passing  Stirling,  brought 
before  us,  in  quick  succession,  a  number  of  fine  villas 
and  farm-houses.  Every  spot  seemed  to  have  been 
arrayed  by  nature  for  the  reception  of  the  cottage  of 
some  happy  family.  During  this  ride  we  passed  many 
sites  where  the  lawns  were  made,  the  terraces  defined 
and  levelled,  the  groves  tastefully  clumped,  the  ancient 
trees,  though  small  when  compared  to  our  great  forest 
oaks,  were  beautifully  sprinkled  here  and  there,  and  in 
everything  the  labor  of  art  seemed  to  have  been  antici- 
pated by  nature.  Cincinnatus  could  not  have  selected 
a  prettier  situation  for  a  farm  than  some  which  pre- 
sented themselves  during  this  delightful  journey.  At 
last  we  arrived  at  the  place  of  our  destination,  where 
our  friends  were  in  waiting  for  us. 

As  I  have  already  forwarded  to  you  a  paper  contain- 
ing an  account  of  the  Dundee  meeting,  I  shall  leave  you 
to  judge  from  these  reports  the  character  of  the  demon- 
stration. Yet  I  must  mention  a  fact  or  two  connected 
with  our  first  evening's  visit  to  this  town.  A  few  hours 
after  our  arrival  in  the  place,  we  were  called  upon  by  a 
gentleman  whose  name  is  known  wherever  the  English 
language  is  spoken  — one  whose  name  is  on  the  tongue 
of  every  student  and  school-boy  in  this  country  and 
America,  and  what  lives  upon  their  lips  will  live  and  be 
loved  forever. 

We  were  seated  over  a  cup  of  strong  teaj  to  revive  our 
15 


170  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAB. 

spirits  for  the  evening,  when  our  friend  entered  the  room, 
accompanied  by  a  gentleman,  small  in  stature,  and  appa- 
rently seventy-five  years  of  age,  yet  he  appeared  as 
active  as  one  half  that  age.  Feeling  half  drowsy  from 
riding  in  the  cold,  and  then  the  sudden  change  to  a 
warm  fire,  I  was  rather  inclined  not  to  move  on  the  en- 
trance of  the  stranger.  But  the  name  of  Thomas  Dick, 
LL.D.,  roused  me  in  a  moment  from  my  lethargy;  I 
could  scarcely  believe  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of  the 
^^  Christian  Philosopher."  Dr.  Dick  is  one  of  the  men 
to  whom  the  age  is  indebted.  I  never  find  myself  in  the 
presence  of  one  to  whom  the  world  owes  so  much,  with- 
out feeling  a  thrilling  emotion,  as  if  I  were  in  the  land 
of  spirits.  Dr.  Dick  had  come  to  our  lodgings  to  see 
and  congratulate  William  and  Ellen  Craft  upon  their 
escape  from  the  republican  Christians  of  the  United 
States ;  and  as  he  pressed  the  hand  of  the  ^^  white  slave," 
and  bid  her  ^^  welcome  to  British  soil,"  I  saw  the  silent 
tear  stealing  down  the  cheek  of  this  man  of  genius. 
How  I  wished  that  the  many  slaveholders  and  pro- 
slavery  professed  Christians  of  America,  who  have  read 
and  pondered  the  philosophy  of  this  man,  could  have 
been  present!  Thomas  Dick  is  an  abolitionist  —  one 
who  is  willing  that* the  world  should  know  that  he  hates 
the  ^^  peculiar  institution."  At  the  meeting  that  even- 
ing, Dr.  Dick  was  among  the  most  prominent.  But 
this  was  not  the  only  distinguished  man  who  took  part 
on  that  occasion. 

Another  great  mind  was  on  the  platform,  and  entered 


.PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        171 

his  solemn  protest  in  a  manner  long  to  be  remembered 
by  those  present.  This  was  the  Rev.  George  GilfiUan, 
well  known  as  the  author  of  the  ' '  Portraits  of  Literary 
Men."  Mr.  GilfiUan  is  an  energetic  speaker,  and  would 
have  been  the  lion  of  the  evening,  even  if  many  others 
who  are  more  distinguished  as  platform  orators  had  been 
present.  I  think  it  was  Napoleon  who  said  that  the 
enthusiasm  of  others  abated  his  own.  At  any  rate,  the 
spirit  with  which  each  speaker  entered  upon  his  duty  for 
the  evening  abated  my  own  enthusiasm  for  the  time 
being.  The  last  day  of  our  stay  in  Dundee,  I  paid  a 
visit,  by  invitation^  to  Dr.  Dick,  at  his  residence  in  the 
little  village  of  Broughty  Ferry.  We  found  the  great 
astronomer  in  his  parlor  waiting  for  us.  From  the  par- 
lor we  went  to  the  new  study,  and  here  I  felt  more  at 
ease,  for  I  went  to  see  the  philosopher  in  his  study,  and 
not  in  his  drawing-room.  But  even  this  room  had  too 
much  the  look  of  nicety  to  be  an  author's  sanctum ; 
and  I  inquired  and  was  soon  informed  by  Mrs.  Dick, 
that  I  should  have  a  look  at  the  ^'  old  study.'' ^ 

During  a  sojourn  of  eighteen  months  in  Great  Britain, 
I  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  with  several  distin- 
guished literary  characters,  and  have  always  managed, 
while  at  their  places  of  abode,  to  see  the  table  and  favor- 
ite chair.  William  and  Ellen  Craft  were  seeing  what 
they  could  see  through  a  microscope,  when  Mrs.  Dick 
returned  to  the  room,  and  intimated  that  we  could  now 
see  the  old  literary  workshop.  I  followed,  and  was  soon 
in  a  room  about  fifteen  feet  square,  with  but  one  window. 


172  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABBOAI). 

which  occupied  one  side  of  the  room.  The  walls  of  the 
other  three  sides  were  lined  with  books,  and  many  of 
these  looked  the  very  personification  of  age.  I  took  my 
seat  in  the  ^*  old  arm-chair  ;^^  and  here,  thought  I,  is 
the  place  and  the  seat  in  which  this  distinguished  man 
sat  while  weaving  the  radiant  wreath  of  renown  which 
now,  in  his  old  age,  surrounds  him,  and  whose  labors 
will  be  more  appreciated  by  future  ages  than  the  present. 
I  took  a  farewell  of  the  author  of  the  ^^  Solar  Sys- 
tem," but  not  until  I  had  taken  a  look  through  the  great 
telescope  in  the  observatory.  This  instrument,  through 
which  I  tried  to  see  the  heavens,  was  not  the  one  in- 
vented by  Galileo,  but  an  improvement  upon  the  orig- 
inal. On  leaving  this  learned  man,  he  shook  hands  with 
us,  and  bade  us  '^  God  speed''  in  our  mission;  and  I  left 
the  philosopher,  feeling  I  had  not  passed  an  hour  more 
agreeably  with  a  literary  character  since  the  hour 
which  I  spent  with  the  poet  Montgomery  a  few  months 
since.  And,  by-the-by,  there  is  a  resemblance  between 
the  poet  and  the  philosopher.  In  becoming  acquainted 
with  great  men  I  have  become  a  convert  to  the  opinion 
that  a  big  nose  is  an  almost  necessary  appendage  to  the 
form  of  a  man  with  a  giant  intellect.  If  those  whom  I 
have  seen  be  a  criterion,  such  is  certainly  the  case.  But 
I  have  spun  out  this  too  long,  and  must  close. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

*'  Proud  relic  of  the  miglity  dead  ! 
Be  mine  with  shuddering  awe  to  tread 

Thy  roofless  weedy  hall, 
And  mark,  with  fancy's  kindling  eye. 
The  steel-clad  ages,  gliding  by, 
Thy  feudal  pomp  recall." 

Keats. 

I  CLOSED  my  last  in  the  ancient  town  of  Melrose,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tweed,  and  within  a  stone's  throw  of 
the  celebrated  ruins  from  which  the  town  derives  its 
name.  The  valley  in  which  Melrose  is  situated,  and  the 
surrounding  hills,  together  with  the  monastery,  have  so 
often  been  made  a  theme  for  the  Scottish  bards,  that  this 
has  become  the  most  interesting  part  of  Scotland.  Of 
the  many  gifted  writers  who  have  taken  up  the  pen, 
none  have  done  more  to  bring  the  Eildon  Hills  and  Mel- 
rose Abbey  into  note  than  the  author  of  '^  Waver  ley." 
But  who  can  read  his  writings  without  a  regret  that  he 
should  have  so  woven  fact  and  fiction  together  that  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  discriminate  between  the  one  and 
the  other  ? 

We  arrived  at  Melrose  in  the  evening,  and  proceeded 
15^ 


174  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

to  the  chapel  where  our  meeting  was  to  be  held,  and 
where  our  friends,  the  Crafts,  were  warmly  greeted.  On 
returning  from  the  meeting  we  passed  close  by  the  ruins 
of  Melrose,  and,  very  fortunately,  it  was  a  moonlight 
night.  There  is  considerable  difference  of  opinion  among 
the  inhabitants  of  the  place  as  regards  the  best  time  to 
view  the  abbey.  The  author  of  the  ^^Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel ''  says  : 

' '  If  tliou  wouldst  view  fair  Melrose  aright, 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moonlight : 
For  the  gay  beams  of  lightsome  day 
Gild  but  to  flout  the  ruins  gray." 

In  consequence  of  this  admonition,  I  was  informed 
that  many  persons  remain  in  town  to  see  the  ruins  by 
moonlight.  Aware  that  the  moon  did  not  send  its  rays 
upon  the  old  building  every  night  in  the  year,  I  asked  the 
keeper  what  he  did  on  dark  nights.  He  replied  that  he 
had  a  large  lantern,  which  he  put  upon  the  end  of  a  long 
pole,  and  with  this  he  succeeded  in  lighting  up  the  ruins. 
This  good  man  labored  hard  to  convince  me  that  his 
invention  was  nearly,  if  not  quite  as  good,  as  nature's 
own  moon.  But  having  no  need  of  an  application  of  his 
invention  to  the  abbey,  I  had  no  opportunity  of  judging 
of  its  effect.  I  thought,  however,  that  he  had  made  a 
moon  to  some  purpose,  when  he  informed  me  that  some 
nights,  with  his  pole  and  lantern,  he  earned  his  four  or 
five  shillings.  Not  being  content  with  a  view  by  ^'  moon- 
light alone/'  I  was  up  the  next  morning  before  the  sun, 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        175 

and  paid  my  respects  to  the  abbey.  I  was  too  early  for 
the  keeper,  and  he  handed  me  the  key  through  the  win- 
dow, and  I  entered  the  ruins  alone.  It  is  one  labyrinth 
of  gigantic  arches  and  dilapidated  halls,  the  ivy  growing 
and  clinging  wherever  it  can  fasten  its  roots,  and  the 
whole  as  fine  a  picture  of  decay  as  imagination  could 
create.  This  was  the  favorite  resort  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
and  furnished  him  much  matter  for  the  ^'Layof  the 
Last  Minstrel."  He  could  not  have  selected  a  more  fit- 
ting place  for  solitary  thought  than  this  ancient  abode 
of  monks  and  priests.  In  passing  through  the  cloisters 
I  could  not  but  remark  the  carvings  of  leaves  and 
flowers,  wrought  in  stone  in  the  most  exquisite  mannerj 
looking  as  fresh  as  if  they  were  just  from  the  hands  of 
the  artist.  The  lapse  of  centuries  seems  not  to  have 
made  any  impression  upon  them,  or  changed  their  appear- 
ance in  the  least.  I  sat  down  among  the  ruins  of  the 
abbey.  The  ground  about  was  piled  up  with  magnifi- 
cent fragments  of  stone,  representing  various  texts  of 
Scripture,  and  the  quaint  ideas  of  the  priests  and  monks 
of  that  age.  Scene  after  scene  swept  through  my  fancy 
as  I  looked  upon  the  surrounding  objects.  I  could 
almost  imagine  I  saw  the  bearded  monks  going  from  hall 
to  hall,  and  from  cell  to  cell.  In  visiting  these  dark 
cells,  the  mind  becomes  oppressed  by  a  sense  of  the 
utter  helplessness  of  the  victims  who  once  passed  over 
the  thresholds  and  entered  these  religious  prisons.  There 
was  no  help  or  hope  but  in  the  will  that  ordered  their 
fate.     How  painful  it  is  to  gaze  upon  these  walls,  and  to 


176  PLACES  AND    PEOPLE   ABROAB. 

think  how  many  tears  were  shed  by  their  inmates, 
"when  this  old  monastery  lyas  in  its  glory  !  I  ascended 
to  the  top  of  the  ruin  by  a  circuitous  stairway,  v/hose 
stone  steps  were  worn  deep  from  use  by  many  who,  like 
myself,  had  visited  them  to  gratify  a  curiosity.  From 
the  top  of  the  abbey  I  had  a  splendid  view  of  the  sur- 
rounding hills  and  the  beautiful  valley  through  which 
flow  the  Gala  Water  and  Tweed.  This  is  unquestion- 
ably the  most  splendid  specimen  of  Gothic  architectural 
I'uin  in  Scotland.  But  any  description  of  mine  conveys 
but  a  poor  idea  to  the  fancy.  To  be  realized,  it  must  be 
seen. 

During  the  day,  we  paid  a  visit  to  Abbotsford,  the 
splendid  mansion  of  the  late  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Bart. 
This  beautiful  seat  is  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed, 
just  below  its  junction  with  the  Gala  Water.  It  is  a 
dreary -looking  spot,  and  the  house  from  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  has  the  appearance  of  a  small,  low  castle. 
In  a  single  day's  ride  through  England  one  may  see 
half  a  dozen  cottages  larger  than  Abbotsford  house.  I 
was  much  disappointed  in  finding  the  premises  under- 
going repairs  and  alterations,  and  that  all  the  trees  be- 
tween the  house  and  the  river  had  been,  cut  down.  This 
is  to  be  regretted  the  more,  because  they  were  planted, 
nearly  every  one  of  them,  by  the  same  hand  that  waved 
its  wand  of  enchantment  over  the  world.  The  fountain 
had  been  removed  from  where  it  had  been  placed  by  the 
hands  of  the  poet  to  the  centre  of  the  yard ;  and  even  a 
small  stone  that  had  been  placed  over  the  favorite  dog 


PLAGES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        177 

^^  Percy  "  had  been  taken  np  and  thrown  among  some 
loose  stones.  One  visits  Abbotsford  because  of  the  genius 
of  the  man  that  once  presided  over  it.  Everything  con- 
nected with  the  great  poet  is  of  interest  to  his  admirers, 
and  anything  altered  or  removed  tends  to  diminish  that 
interest.  We  entered  the  house,  and  were  conducted 
through  the  great  hall,  which  is  hung  all  round  with 
massive  armor  of  all  descriptions,  and  other  memorials 
of  ancient  times.  The  floor  is  of  white  and  black  marble. 
In  passing  through  the  hall,  we  entered  a  narrow  arched 
room,  stretching  quite  across  the  building,  having  a  win- 
dow at  each  end.  This  little  or  rather  narrow  room  is 
filled  with  all  kinds  of  armor,  which  is  arranged  with 
great  taste.  We  were  next  shown  into  the  dining-room, 
vfhose  roof  is  of  black  oak,  richly  carved.  In  this  room 
is  a  painting  of  the  head  of  Queen  Mary,  in  a  charger, 
taken  the  day  after  the  execution.  Many  other  interest- 
ing portraits  grace  the  walls  of  this  room.  But  by  far 
the  finest  apartment  in  the  building  is  the  drawing-room, 
with  a  lofty  ceiling,  and  furnished  with  antique  ebony 
furniture.  After  passing  through  the  library,  with  its 
twenty  thousand  volumes,  we  found  ourselves  in  the 
study,  and  I  sat  down  in  the  same  chair  where  once  sat 
the  poet :  while  before  me  was  the  table  upon  which 
were  wTitten  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  ^'  Waverley," 
and  other  productions  of  this  gifted  writer.  The  clothes 
last  worn  by  the  poet  were  shown  to  us.  There  was  the 
broad-skirted  blue  coat,  with  its  large  buttons,  the  plaid 
trousers,  the  heavy  shoes,  the  black  vest  and  white  hat. 


178  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

These  were  all  in  a  glass  case,  and  all  looked  the  poet 
and  novelist.  But  the  inside  of  the  buildings  had  under- 
gone alterations,  as  well  as  the  outside.  In  passing 
through  the  library,  we  saw  a  granddaughter  of  the  poet. 
She  was  from  London,  and  was  only  on  a  visit  of  a  few 
days.  She  looked  pale  and  dejected,  and  seemed  as  if 
she  longed  to  leave  this  secluded  spot  and  return  to  the 
metropolis.  She  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  hot-house 
plant.  I  don't  think  the  Scotch  could  do  better  than  to 
purchase  Abbotsford,  while  it  has  some  imprint  of  the 
great  magician,  and  secure  its  preservation  ;  for  I  am  sure 
that,  a  hundred  years  hence,  no  place  will  be  more  fre- 
quently visited  in  Scotland  than  the  home  of  the  late 
Sir  Walter  Scott.  After  sauntering  three  hours  about 
the  premises,  I  left,  but  not  without  feeling  that  I  had 
been  well  paid  for  my  trouble  in  visiting  Abbotsford. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  in  company  with 
the  Crafts,  I  took  a  drive  to  Dryburgh  Abbey.  It  is  a 
ruin  of  little  interest,  except  as  being  the  burial-place  of 
Scott.  The  poet  lies  buried  in  St.  Mary's  Aisle.  His 
grave  is  in  the  left  transept  of  the  cross,  and  close  to 
where  the  high  altar  formerly  stood.  Sir  Walter  Scott 
chose  his  own  grave,  and  he  could  not  have  selected  a 
sunnier  spot  if  he  had  roamed  the  wide  world  over.  A 
shaded  window  breaks  the  sun  as  it  falls  upon  his  grave. 
The  ivy  is  creeping  and  clinging  wherever  it  can,  as  if  it 
would  shelter  the  poet's  grave  from  the  weather.  The 
author  lies  between  his  wife  and  eldest  son,  and  there  is 
only  room  enough  for  one  grave  more,  and  the  son's  wife 
has  the  choice  of  being  buried  here. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        179 

The  four  o'clock  train  took  us  to  Hawick ;  and  after 
a  pleasant  visit  in  this  place,  and  the  people  registering 
their  names  against  American  slavery,  and  the  Fugitive 
Bill  in  particular,  we  set  out  for  Carlisle,  passing  through 
the  antique  town  of  Langholm.  After  leaving  the  lat- 
ter place,  we  had  to  travel  by  coach.  But  no  matter 
hoYf  one  travels  here,  he  travels  at  a  more  rapid  rate 
than  in  America.  The  distance  from  Langholm  to  Car- 
lisle, twenty  miles,  occupied  only  tw^o  and  a  half  hours 
in  the  journey.  It  was  a  cold  day,  and  I  had  to  ride  on 
the  outside,  as  the  inside  had  been  taken  up.  We  changed 
horses  and  took  in  and  put  out  passengers  with  a  rapidity 
which  seems  almost  incredible.  The  road  was  as  smooth 
as  could  be  imagined. 

We  bid  farewell  to  Scotland,  as  we  reached  the  little 
town  of  Gretna  Green.  This  town,  being  on  the  line 
between  England  and  Scotland,  is  noted  as  the  place 
where  a  little  cross-eyed,  red-faced  blacksmith,  by  the 
name  of  Priestly,  first  set  up  his  own  altar  to  Hymen, 
and  married  all  who  came  to  him,  without  regard  to  rank 
or  station,  and  at  prices  to  suit  all.  It  was  worth  a  ride 
through  this  part  of  the  country,  if  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  see  the  town  where  more  clandestine  marriages 
have  taken  place  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  w^orld. 
A  ride  of  eight  or  nine  miles  brought  us  in  sight  of  the 
Eden,  winding  its  way  slowly  through  a  beautiful  val- 
ley, with  farms  on  either  side,  covered  with  sheep  and 
cattle.  Four  very  tall  chimneys,  sending  forth  dense 
columns  of  black  smoke,  announced  to  us  that  we  were 


180        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

near  Carlisle.  I  was  really  glad  of  this,  for  Ulysses 
was  never  more  tired  of  the  shores  of  Ilion  than  I  of  the 
top  of  that  coach. 

We  remained  over  night  at  Carlisle,  partaking  of  the 
hospitality  of  the  prince  of  bakers,  and  left  the  next 
day  for  the  lakes,  where  we  had  a  standing  invitation  to 
pay  a  visit  to  a  distinguished  literary  lady.  A  cold  ride 
of  about  fifty  miles  brought  us  to  the  foot  of  Lake  Win- 
dermere, a  beautiful 'sheet  of  water,  surrounded  by  moun- 
tains that  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  which  should 
approach  nearest  the  sky.  The  margin  of  the  lake  is 
carved  out  and  built  up  into  terrace  above  terrace,  until 
the  slopes  and  windings  are  lost  in  the  snow-capped  peaks 
of  the  mountains.  It  is  not  surprising  that  such  men  as 
Southey,  Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  and  others,  resorted  to 
this  region  for  inspiration.  After  a  coach  ride  of  five 
miles  (passing  on  our  journey  the  ^'  Dove's  Nest,'  home 
of  the  late  Mrs.  Hemans),  we  were  put  down  at  the 
door  of  the  Salutation  Hotel,  Ambleside,  and  a  few 
minutes  after  found  ourselves  under  the  roof  of  the 
authoress  of  ^'Society  in  America."  I  know  not  how 
it  is  with  others,  but,  for  my  own  part,  I  always  form  an 
opinion  of  the  appearance  of  an  author  whose  writings  I 
am  at  all  familiar  with,  or  a  statesman  whose  speeches  I 
have  read.  I  had  pictured  in  my  own  mind  a  tall,  stately- 
looking  lady  of  about  sixty  years,  as  the  authoress  of 
^^  Travels  in  the  East ;  "  and  for  once  I  was  right,  with 
the  single  exception  that  I  had  added  on  too  many  years 
by  twelve.     The  evening  was  spent  in  talking  about  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        181 

United  States  ;  and  William  Craft  had  to  go  through  the 

narrative  of  his  escape  from  slavery.     When  I  retired 

for  the  night,  I  found  it  almost  impossible  to  sleep.    The 

idea  that  I  was  under  the  roof  of  the  authoress  of  ^^  The 

Hour  and  the  Man/'  and  that  I  was  on  the  banks  of  the 

sweetest  lake  in  Great  Britain,  within  half  a  mile  of  the 

residence  of  the  late  poet  Wordsworth,  drove  sleep  from 

my  pillow.     But  I  must  leave  an  account  of  my  visit  to 

the  Lakes  for  a  future  chapter. 

When  I  look  around  and  see  the  happiness  here,  even 

among  the  poorer  classes,  and  that  too  in  a  country  where 

the  soil  is  not  at  all  to   be   compared   with  our    own, 

I  mourn  for  our   down-trodden   countrymen,    who    are 

plundered,  oppressed  and  made  chattels  of,  to  enable  an 

ostentatious  aristocracy  to  vie  with  each  other  in  splendid 

extravagance. 

16 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

•    «  Why  weeps  the  Muse  for  England  ?    What  appears 
In  England's  case  to  move  the  Muse  to  tears? 
From  side  to  side  of  her  delightful  isle 
Is  she  not  clothed  with  a  perpetual  smile  ? 
Can  nature  add  a  charm,  or  art  confer 
A  new-found  luxury,  not  seen  in  her  V* 

COWPER. 

My  last  left  me  under  the  hospitable  roof  of  Harriet 
Martineau.  I  had  long  had  an  invitation  to  visit  this 
distinguished  friend  of  our  race,  and  as  the^jp^vitation 
was  renewed  during  my  tour  through  the  north,  I  did 
not  feel  disposed  to  decline  it,  and  thereby  lose  so  favor- 
able an  opportunity  of  meeting  with  one  who  had  writ- 
ten so  much  in  behalf  of  the  oppressed  of  our  land. 
About  a  mile  from  the  head  of  Lake  Windermere,  and 
immediately  under  Wonsfell,  and  encircled  by  mountains 
on  all  sides  except  the  south-west,  lies  the  picturesque 
little  town  of  Ambleside ;  and  the  brightest  spot  in  the 
place  is  "  The  Knoll,''  the  residence  of  Miss  Martineau. 

We  reached  ''The  Knoll"  a  little  after  night-fall, 
and  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand  by  Miss  M.,  who  was 
waiting  for  us,  trumpet  in  hand,  soon  assured  us  that  we 
had  met  with  a  warm  friend. 


-^  I 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        183 

It  IS  not  my  intention  to  lay  open  the  scenes  of  domes- 
tic life  at  "  The  Knoll,"  nor  to  describe  the  social  parties 
of  which  my  friends  and  I  were  partakers  during  our 
sojourn  within  the  hospitable  walls  of  this  distinguished 
writer ;  but  the  name  of  Miss  M.  is  so  intimately  connect- 
ed with  the  Anti-slavery  movement  by  her  early  writ- 
ings, and  those  have  been  so  much  admired  by  the  friends 
of  the  slave  in  the  United  States,  that  I  deem  it  not  at 
all  out  of  place  for  me  to  give  my  readers  some  idea  of 
the  authoress  of '^  Political  Economy,"  ^'Travels  in  the 
East,"  "  The  Hour  and  the  Man,"  &c. 

The  dwelling  is  a  cottage  of  moderate  size,  built  after 
Miss  M.'s  own  plan,  upon  a  rise  of  land,  from  which  it 
derives  the  name  of  ^^  The  Knoll."  The  library  is  the 
largest  room  in  the  building,  and  upon  the  walls  of  it 
were  hung  some  beautiful  engravings  and  a  continental 
map.  On  a  long  table,  which  occupied  the  centre  of  the 
room,  were  the  busts  of  Shakspeare,  Newton,  Milton,  and 
a  few  other  literary  characters  of  the  past.  One  side  of 
the  room  was  taken  up  with  a  large  case,  filled  with  a 
choice  collection  of  books  ;  and  everything  indicated  that 
it  was  the  home  of  genius  and  of  taste. 

The  room  usually  occupied  by  Miss  M.,  and  where  we 
found  her  on  the  evening  of  our  arrival,  is  rather  small, 
and  lighted  by  two  large  windows.  The  walls  of  this 
room  were  also  decorated  with  prints  and  pictures,  and 
on  the  mantel-shelf  were  some  models  in  terra  cotta  of 
Italian  groups.  On  a  circular  table  lay  casts,  medal- 
lions, and  some  very  choice  water-color  drawings.    Under 


184  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

the  south  window  stood  a  small  table  covered  with  newly- 
opened  letters,  a  portfolio,  and  several  new  books,  with 
here  and  there  a  page  turned  down,  and  one  with  a  paper- 
knife  between  its  leaves,  as  if  it  had  only  been  half  read. 
I  took  up  the  last-mentioned,  and  it  proved  to  be  the 
^'  Life  and  Poetry  of  Hartley  Coleridge,"  son  of  S.  T. 
Coleridge.  It  was  just  from  the  press,  and  had,  a  day 
or  two  before,  been  forwarded  to  her  by  the  publisher. 
Miss  M.  is  very  deaf,  and  always  carries  in  her  left  hand 
a  trumpet ;  and  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  on  learning 
from  her  that  she  had  never  enjoyed  the  sense  of  smell, 
and  only  on  one  occasion  the  sense  of  taste,  and  that  for 
a  single  moment.  Miss  M.  is  loved  with  a  sort  of  idol- 
atry by  the  people  of  Ambleside,  and  especially  the  poor, 
to  whom  she  gives  a  course  of  lectures  every  winter  gra- 
tuitously. She  finished  her  last  course  th^^^ij^  before 
our  arrival.  She  was  much  pleased  with  Ellen^  Craft, 
and  appeared  delighted  with  the  story  of  herself  and  hus- 
band's escape  from  slavery,  as  related  by  the  latter,  dur- 
ing the  recital  of  which  I  several  times  saw  the  silent 
tear  stealing  down  her  cheek,  and  which  she  tried  in  vain 
to  hide  from  us. 

When  Craft  had  finished,  she  exclaimed,  ^^I  would 
that  every  woman  in  the  British  empire  could  hear  that 
tale  as  I  have,  so  that  they  might  know  how  their  own 
sex  was  treated  in  that  boasted  land  of  liberty.''  It 
seems  strange  to  the  people  of  this  country,  that  one  so 
white  and  so  ladylike  as  Mrs.  Craft  should  have  been  a 


•  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        185 

slave,  and  forced  to  leave  the  land  of  her  nativity  and 
seek  an  asylum  in  a  foreign  country. 

The  morning  after  our  arrival  I  took  a  stroll  by  a  cir- 
cuitous pathway  to  the  top  of  Loughrigg  Fell.  At  the 
foot  of  the  mount  I  met  a  peasant,  who  very  kindly 
offered  to  lend  me  his  donkey,  upon  which  to  ascend  the 
mountain.  Never  having  been  upon  the  back  of  one  of 
these  long-eared  animals,  I  felt  some  hesitation  about 
trusting  myself  upon  so  diminutive  looking  a  creature. 
But,  being  assured  that  if  I  would  only  resign  myself  to 
his  care,  and  let  him  have  his  own  way,  I  would  be  per- 
fectly safe,  I  mounted,  and  off  we  set.  "We  had,  how- 
ever, scarcely  gone  fifty  rods,  when,  in  passing  over  a 
narrow  part  of  the  path  and  overlooking  a  deep  chasm,  one 
of  the  hind  feet  of  the  donkey  slipped,  and  with  an  invol- 
untary shudder  I  shut  my  eyes  to  meet  my  expected 
doom;  bpt,  fortunately,  the  little  fellow  gained  his  foot- 
hold, and  in  all  probability  saved  us  both  from  a  prema- 
ture death.  After  we  had  passed  over  this  dangerous 
place  I  dismounted ;  and,  as  soon  as  my  feet  had  once 
more  gained  terra  firma,  I  resolved  that  I  would  never 
again  yield  my  own  judgment  to  that  of  any  one,  not 
even  to  a  donkey. 

It  seems  as  if  nature  had  amused  herself  in  throwing 
these  mountains  together.  From  the  top  of  Loughrigg 
Fell  the  eye  loses  its  power  in  gazing  upon  the  objects 
below.  On  our  left  lay  Eydal  Mount,  the  beautiful  seat 
of  the  late  poet  Wordsworth ;  while  to  the  right,  and 
away  in  the  dim  distance,  almost  hidden  by  the  native 
16* 


186  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

trees,  was  the  cottage  where  once  resided  Mrs.  Hemans. 
And  below  us  lay  Windermere,  looking  more  like  a  river 
than  a  lake,  and  which,  if  placed  bj  the  side  of  our  own 
Ontario,  Erie  or  Huron,  would  be  lost  in  the  fog.  But 
here  it  looks  beautiful  in  the  extreme,  surrounded  as  it  is 
by  a  range  of  mountains  that  have  no  parallel  in  the 
United  States  for  beauty.  Amid  a  sun  of  uncommon 
splendor,  dazzling  the  eye  with  the  reflection  upon  the 
water  below,  we  descended  into  the  valley,  and  I  was 
soon  again  seated  by  the  fireside  of  our  hospitable  hostess. 
In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  we  took  a  drive  to  the 
^^  Dove's  Nest,"  the  home  of  the  late  Mrs.  Hemans. 

We  did  not  see  the  inside  of  the  house,  on  account  of 
its  being  occupied  by  a  very  eccentric  man,  who  will  not 
permit  a  woman  to  enter  the  house ;  and  it  is  said  that 
he  has  been  known  to  run  when  a  female  had  uncon- 
sciously intruded  herself  upon  his  premises.  -  As  our 
company  was  in  part  composed  of  ladies,  we  had  to  share 
their  fate,  and  therefore  were  prevented  from  seeing  the 
interior  of  the  ^'  Dove's  Nest."  The  exhibitor  of  such  a 
man  would  be  almost  sure  of  a  prize  at  the  Great  Exhi- 
bition. 

At  the  head  of  Grassmere  Lake,  and  surrounded  by  a 
few  cottages,  stands  an  old,  gray,  antique-looking  parish 
church,  venerable  with  the  lapse  of  centuries,  and  the 
walls  partly  covered  with  ivy,  and  in  the  rear  of  which  is 
the  parish  burial-ground.  After  leaving  the  ''  Dove's 
Nest,"  and  having  a  pleasant  ride  over  the  hills  and  be- 
tween the  mountains,  and  just  as  the  sun  was  disappear- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        187 

ing  behind  them,  we  arrived  at  the  gate  of  Grassmere 
Church  ;  and,  alighting  and  following  Miss  M.,  we  soon 
found  ourselves  standing  over  a  grave,  marked  by  a  sin- 
gle stone,  and  that,  too,  very  plain,  with  a  name  deeply 
cut.  This  announced  to  us  that  we  were  standing  over 
the  grave  of  William  Wordsworth.  He  chose  his  own 
grave,  and  often  visited  the  spot  before  his  death.  He 
lies  in  the  most  sequestered  spot  in  the  whole  grounds ; 
and  the  simplicity  and  beauty  of  the  place  were  enough  to 
make  one  in  love  with  it,  to  be  laid  so  far  from  the  bustle 
of  the  world,  and  in  so  sweet  a  place.  The  more  one 
becomes  acquainted  with  the  literature  of  the  Old  World, 
the  more  he  must  love  her  poets.  Among  the  teachers 
of  men,  none  are  more  worthy  of  study  than  the  poets ; 
and,  as  teachers,  they  should  receive  far  more  credit  than 
is  yielded  to  them.  No  one  can  look  back  upon  the  lives 
of  Dante,  Shakspeare,  Milton,  Goethe,  Cowper,  and 
many  others  that  we  might  name,  without  being  reminded 
of  the  sacrifices  which  they  made  for  mankind,  and  which 
were  not  appreciated  until  long  after  their  deaths.  We 
need  look  no  further  than  our  own  country  to  find  men 
and  women  wielding  the  pen  practically  and  powerfully 
for  the  right.  It  is  acknowledged  on  all  hands,  in  this 
country,  that  England  has  the  greatest  dead  poets,  and 
America  the  greatest  living  ones.  The  poet  and  the  true 
Christian  have  alike  a  hidden  life.  Worship  is  the  vital 
element  of  each.  Poetry  has  in  it  that  kind  of  utility 
which  good  men  find  in  their  Bible,  rather  than  such 
convenience  as  bad  men  often  profess  to  draw  from  it. 


188        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

It  ennobles  the  sentiments,  enlarges  the  affections,  kindles 
the  imagination,  and  gives  to  us  the  enjoyment  of  a  life 
in  the  past,  and  in  the  future,  as  well  as  in  the  present. 
Under  its  light  and  warmth,  we  wake  from  our  torpidity 
and  coldness,  to  a  sense  of  our  capabilities.  This  impulse 
once  given,  a  great  object  is  gained.  Schiller  has  truly 
said,  '^Poetry  can  be  to  a  man  what  love  is  to  a  hero. 
It  can  neither  counsel  him,  nor  smite  him,  nor  perform 
any  labor  for  him ;  but  it  can  bring  him  up  to  be  a  hero, 
can  summon  him  to  deeds,  and  arm  him  with  strength  for 
all  he  ought  to  be.'^  I  have  often  read  with  pleasure  the 
sweet  poetry  of  our  own  Whitfield,  of  Buffalo,  which  has 
appeared  from  time  to  time  in  the  columns  of  the  newspa- 
pers. I  have  always  felt  ashamed  of  the  fact  that  he 
should  be  compelled  to  wield  the  razor  instead  of  the  pen 
for  a  living.  Meaner  poets  than  James  M.  Whitfield  are 
now  living  by  their  compositions ;  and  were  he  a  white 
man  he  would  occupy  a  different  position. 

Near  the  grave  of  Wordsworth  is  that  of  Hartley 
Coleridge.  This  name  must  be  lifted  up  as  a  beacon, 
with  all  its  pleasant  and  interesting  associations ;  it  must 
be  added  to  the  list  in  which  some  names  of  brighter 
fame  are  written  —  Burns,  Byron,  Campbell,  and  others 
their  compeers.  They  had  all  the  rich  endowment  of 
genius,  and  might,  in  achieving  fame  for  themselves, 
have  gained  glory  for  God,  and  great  good  for  man. 
But  they  looked  ^'upon  the  wine  when  it  was  red,''  and 
gave  life  and  fame,  and  their  precious  gifts,  and  God's 
blessing,  for  its  false  and  ruinous  joys.     We  would  not 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        189 

drag  forth  their  names  that  we  may  gloat  over  their 
infirmities.  We  pity  them  for  their  sad  fall.  We  ac- 
knowledge the  strength  of  their  temptations,  and,  walk- 
ing backwards,  would  throw  a  mantle  over  their  frailties. 
But  these  men  are  needed,  also,  as  warnings.  The  moral 
world  must  have  its  light-houses.  Thousands  of  young 
men  are  running  down  upon  the  same  rocks  on  which 
they  were  cast  away.  If  the  light  of  their  genius  has 
made  them  conspicuous,  let  us  then  use  their  conspicuity, 
and  throw  a  ray  from  them,  as  from  a  beacon,  far  out 
upon  the  dim  and  perilous  sea. 

Hartley  Coleridge  was  the  eldest  son  of  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge,  poet  and  metaphysician.  He  had  some  of  his 
father's  gifts,  particularly  his  captivating  conversational 
power,  and  his  propensity  for  novel  and  profound  specu- 
lation. He  had  also  his  father's  infirmity  of  purpose. 
In  the  case  of  the  son,  the  reason,  as  the  world  is  now 
informed  in  a  biography  written  by  his  brother,  was  that 
he  early  became  the  slave  of  intemperate  habits,  from 
which  no  aspirations  of  his  own  heart,  no  struggles  with 
the  enslaving  appetite,  and  no  efforts  of  sympathizing 
and  sorrowful  friends,  could  ever  deliver  him.  He 
gained  a  fellowship  in  Oriel  College,  Oxford,  and  for- 
feited it  in  consequence  of  these  habits.  He  then  cast 
himself,  as  a  literary  adventurer,  into  the  wild  vortex  of 
London  life ;  failed  sadly  in  all  his  projects ;  drank  deep 
of  the  treacherous  wine-cup,  often  to  his  own  shame  and 
the  chagrin  of  his  friends,  from  whom  he  would  some- 
times hide  himself  in  places  where  restraint  was  unknown 


190  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABEOAD. 

and  shame  forgotteiij  that  he  might  be  delivered  from 
their  reproachful  pity.  In  the  end,  he  betook  himself  to 
a  cottage  near  Grassmere,  and  where,  on  the  6th  of  Jan- 
uary, 1849,  he  died,  not,  we  trust,  without  penitence 
and  faith  in  the  Eedeemer  of  guilty  and  wTetched  men. 

Hartley  Coleridge  tells  us,  in  one  of  his  confessions, 
that  his  first  resort  to  wine  was  for  the  purpose  of  seek- 
ing relief  from  the  sting  of  defeated  ambition.  This 
temptation  was  necessarily  brief  in  its  duration ;  for  time 
would  gradually  extract  this  sting  from  his  sensitive 
mind  and  heart.  This,  therefore,  w^as  not  the  doorway 
of  the  path  which  led  him  down  to  the  gulf  The  ''  wine 
parties"  of  Oxford  were  the  scenes  in  which  Hartley 
Coleridge  was  betrayed  and  lost.  We  have  but  a  mo- 
mentary glimpse  of  these  things  in  the  biography ;  but 
that  glimpse  is  sufficient.  It  reveals  to  us  what  in  pop- 
ular language  is  called  a  gay  scone,  but  which  to  us, 
and  in  reality,  is  sombre  as  death.  In  the  midst  of  it 
there  sits  a  bright-eyed,  enthusiastic,  impetuous  young 
man,  heated  with  repeated  draughts  of  wine,  urged  by 
his  fellow-revellers  to  drink  deeper,  yielding  readily  to 
their  solicitations,  and  pouring  forth  all  the  while  a 
stream  of  continuous  and  sparkling  discourse,  which  fas- 
cinated his  companions  by  its  wit,  its  facility  and  its 
beauty.  Alas !  how  many  of  those  companions,  it  may 
be,  are  with  him  in  graves  where  men  can  only  weep  and 
be  silent ! 

It   has  often  been  said,   and  with  much  truth,  that 
there  is  no  more  dangerous  gift  for  a  young  man  than 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        191 

to  be  able  to  sing  a  good  song.  It  is  equally  dangerous, 
we  think,  to  be  known  as  a  good  talker.  The  gift  of 
rapid,  brilliant,  mirth-moving  speech,  is  a  perilous  pos- 
session. The  dullards,  for  whose  amusement  this  gift  is 
so  often  invoked,  know  well  that  to  ply  its  possessor 
with  wine  is  the  readiest  way  to  bring  out  its  power. 
But  in  the  end  the  wine  destroys  the  intellect,  and  the 
man  of  wit  degenerates  into  a  buiBToon,  and  dies  a  drunk- 
ard. Such  is  the  brief  life  and  history  of  many  a  young 
man,  who,  behind  the  stained-glass  windows  of  the 
fashionable  restaurant^  or  in  the  mirrored  and  cushioned 
rooms  of  the  club-house,  was  hailed  as  the  ^'  prince  of 
good  fellows,"  and  the  rarest  of  wits.  The  laughing 
applauders  pass  on,  each  in  his  own  way,  and  he  who 
made  them  sport  is  left  to  struggle  in  solitude  with  the 
enemy  they  have  helped  to  fasten  upon  him.  Let  every 
young  man  who  longs  for  these  gifts,  and  envies  their 
possessors,  remember  '^  poor  Hartley  Coleridge."  Let 
them  be  warned  by  the  fate  of  one  who  was  caught  in 
the  toils  they  are  weaving  around  themselves,  and  per- 
ished therein,  leaving  behind  him  the  record  of  a  life  of 
unfulfilled  purposes,  and  of  great  departures  from  the 
path  of  duty  and  peace. 

After  remaining  a  short  time,  and  reading  the  epitaphs 
of  the  departed,  we  again  returned  to  ''The  Knoll." 
Nothing  can  be  m.ore  imposing  than  the  beauty  of  Eng- 
lish park  scenery,  and  especially  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Lakes.  Magnificent  lawns  that  extend  like  sheets  of 
vivid  green,  with  here  and  there  a  sprinkling  of  fine 


192        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

treeSj  heaping  up  rich  piles  of  foliage,  and  then  the  forest 
with  the  hare,  the  deer,  and  the  rabbit,  ^'  bounding  away 
to  the  covert,  or  the  pheasant  suddenly  bursting  upon 
the  wing  —  the  artificial  stream,  the  brook  taught  to 
wind  in  natural  meanderings,  or  expand  into  the  glassy 
lake,  with  the  yellow  leaf  sleeping  upon  its  bright 
waters,  and  occasionally  a  rustic  temple  or  sylvan  statue 
grown  green  and  dark  with  age,"  give  an  air  of  sanctity 
and  picturesque  beauty  to  English  scenery  that  is  un- 
known in  the  United  States.  The  very  laborer  with  his 
thatched  cottage  and  narrow  slip  of  ground-plot  before 
the  door,  the  little  flower-bed,  the  woodbine  trimmed 
against  the  wall,  and  hanging  its  blossoms  about  the 
windows,  and  the  peasant  seen  trudging  home  at  night- 
fall with  the  avails  of  the  toil  of  the  day  upon  his  back  — 
all  this  tells  us  of  the  happiness  both  of  rich  and  poor  in 
this  country.  And  yet  there  are  those  who  would  have 
the  world  believe  that  the  laborer  of  England  is  in  a  far 
worse  condition  than  the  slaves  of  America.  Such  per- 
sons know  nothing  of  the  real  condition  of  the  working 
classes  of  this  country.  At  any  rate,  the  poor  here,  as 
well  as  the  rich,  are  upon  a  level,  as  far  as  the  laws  of 
the  country  are  concerned.  The  more  one  becomes  ac- 
quainted with  the  English  people,  the  more  one  has  to 
admire  them.  They  are  so  different  from  the  people  of 
our  own  country.  Hospitality,  frankness  and  good 
humor,  are  always  to  be  found  in  an  Englishman.  After 
a  ramble  of  three  days  about  the  Lakes,  we  mounted  the 
coach,  bidding  Miss  Martineau  farewell,  and  quitted  the 
lake  district. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

**  And  there  are  dresses  splendid  but  fantastical, 

Masks  of  all  times  and  nations,  Turks  and  Jews, 

And  Harlequins  and  Clowns  with  feats  gymnastical  ; 

Greeks,  Romans,  Yankee-doodles,  and  Hindoos." 

PRESUMiNa  that  you  will  expect  from  me  some  ac- 
count of  the  great  World's  Fair,  I  take  my  pen  to  give 
you  my  own  impressions,  although  I  am  afraid  that  any- 
thing which  I  may  say  about  this  '^lion  of  the  day'' 
will  fall  far  short  of  a  description.  On  Monday  last,  I 
quitted  my  lodgings  at  an  early  hour,  and  started  for  the 
Crystal  Palace.  The  day  was  fine,  such  as  we  seldom 
experience  in  London,  with  a  clear  sky,  and  invigorating 
air,  whose  vitality  was  as  rousing  to  the  spirits  as  a  blast 
from  the  ''  horn  of  Astolpho."  Although  it  was  not  yet 
ten  o'clock  when  I  entered  Piccadilly,  every  omnibus  was 
full,  inside  and  out,  and  the  street  was  lined  with  one 
living  stream,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  all  wending 
their  way  to  the  ^^  Glass  House."  No  metropolis  in  the 
world  presents  such  facilities  as  London  for  the  reception 
of  the  Great  Exhibition  now  collected  within  its  walls. 
Throughout  its  myriads  of  veins  the  stream  of  industry 
and  toil  pulses  with  sleepless  energy.  Every  one  seems 
17 


194  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

to  feel  that  this  great  capital  of  the  world  is  the  fittest 
place  wherein  they  might  offer  homage  to  the  dignity  of 
toil.  I  had  already  begun  to  feel  fatigued  by  my  pedes- 
trian excursions  as  I  passed  ^^  Apsley  House/',  the  resi- 
dence of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  emerged  into  Hyde 
Park. 

I  had  hoped  that  on  getting  into  the  Park  I  would  be 
out  of  the  crowd  that  seemed  to  press  so  heavily  in  the 
street.  But  in  this  I  was  mistaken.  I  here  found  my- 
self surrounded  by  and  moving  with  an  overwhelming 
mass,  such  as  I  had  never  before  witnessed.  And,  away 
in  the  distance,  I  beheld  a  dense  crowd,  and  above  every 
other  object  was  seen  the  lofty  summit  of  the  Crystal 
Palace.  The  drive  in  the  Park  was  lined  with  princely- 
looking  vehicles  of  every  description.  The  drivers  in 
their  bright  red  and  gold  uniforms,  the  pages  and  footmen 
in  their  blue  trousers  and  white  silk  stockings,  and  the 
horses  dressed  up  in  their  neat,  silver-mounted  harness, 
made  the  scene  altogether  one  of  great  splendor.  I  vfas 
soon  at  the  door,  paid  my  shilling,  and  entered  the 
building  at  the  south  end  of  the  transept.  For  the  first 
ten  or  twenty  minutes,  I  was  so  lost  in  astonishment, 
and  absorbed  in  pleasing  wonder,  that  I  could  do  nothing 
but  gaze  up  and  down  the  vista  of  the  noble  building. 
The  Crystal  Palace  resembles  in  some  respects  the  inte- 
rior of  the  cathedrals  of  this  country.  One  long  avenue 
from  east  to  west  is  intercepted  by  a  transept,  which 
divides  the  building  into  two  nearly  equal  parfs.  This 
is  the  greatest  building  the  world  ever  saw,  before  which 


. PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  195 

the  Pyramids  of  Egypt,  and  the  Colossus  of  Rhodes  must 
hide  their  diminished  heads.  The  palace  was  not  full  at 
any  time  during  the  day,  there  being  only  sixty-four 
thousand  persons  present.  Those  who  love  to  study  the 
human  countenance  in  all  its  infinite  varieties  can  find 
ample  scope  for  the  indulgence  of  their  taste,  by  a  visit 
to  the  World's  Fair.  All  countries  are  there  repre- 
sented —  Europeans,  Asiatics,  Americans  and  Africans, 
with  their  numerous  subdivisions.  Even  the  exclusive 
Chinese,  wdth  his  hair  braided,  and  hanging  down  his 
back,  has  left  the  land  of  his  nativity,  and  is  seen  making 
long  strides  through  the  Crystal  Palace,  in  his  wooden- 
bottomed  shoes.  Of  all  places  of  curious  costumes  and 
different  fashions,  none  has  ever  yet  presented  such  a 
variety  as  this  Exhibition.  No  dress  is  too  absurd  to  be 
worn  in  this  place. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  freedom  in  the  Exhibition. 
The  servant  who  walks  behind  his  mistress  throu^  the 
Park  feels  that  he  can  crowd  against  her  in  the  Exhibi- 
tion. The  queen  and  the  day  laborer,  the  prince  and 
the  merchant,  the  peer  and  the  pauper,  the  Celt  and  the 
Saxon,  the  Greek  and  the  Frank,  the  Hebrew  and  the 
Russ,  all  meet  here  upon  terms  of  perfect  equality. 
This  amalgamation  of  rank,  this  kindly  blending  of  inter- 
ests, and  forgetfulness  of  the  cold  formalities  of  ranks 
and  grades,  cannot  but  be  attended  with  the  very  best 
results.^  was  pleased  to  see  such  a  goodly  sprinkling  of 
my  own  countrymen  in  the  Exhibition  —  I  mean  colored 
men  and  women — well-dressed,  and  moving  about  with 


196  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

their  fairer  brethren.  This,  some  of  our  pro-slavery 
Americans  did  not  seem  to  relish  very  well.  There  was 
no  help  for  it.  As  I  walked  through  the  American  part 
of  the  Crystal  Palace  some  of  our  Virginia  neighbors 
eyed  me  closely  and  with  jealous  looks,  especially  as  an 
English  lady  was  leaning  on  my  arm.  But  their  sneer- 
ing looks  did  not  disturb  me  in  the  least.  I  remained  the 
longer  in  their  department,  and  criticized  the  bad  aj)pear- 
ance  of  their  goods  the  more.  Indeed,  the  Americans, 
as  far  as  appearance  goes,  are  behind  every  other  coun- 
try in  the  Exhibition.  The  ^'  Greek  Slave"  is  the  only 
production  of  art  which  the  United  States  has  sent. 
And  it  would  have  been  more  to  their  credit  had  they 
kept  that  at  home.  In  so  vast  a  place  as  the  Great  Ex- 
hibition one  scarcely  knows  what  to  visit  first,  or  what  to 
look  upon  last.  After  wandering  about  through  the 
building  for  five  hours,  I  sat  down  in  one  of  the  galleries 
and  looked  at  the  fine  marble  statue  of  Virginius,  with 
the  knife  in  his  hand  and  about  to  take  the  life  of  his 
beloved  and  beautiful  daughter,  to  save  her  from  the 
hands  of  Appius  Claudius.  The  admirer  of  genius  will 
linger  for  hours  among  the  great  variety  of  statues  in 
the  long  avenue.  Large  statues  of  Lords  Eldon  and 
Stowell,  carved  out  of  solid  marble,  each  weighing  above 
twenty  tons,  are  among  the  most  gigantic  in  the  build- 
ing. 

I  was  sitting  with  my  four  hundred  paged  gmde-book 
before  me,  and  looking  down  upon  the  mov™  mass^ 
when  my  attention  was  called  to  a  small  group  of  gentle- 


•  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD.  197 

men  standing  near  the  statue  of  Shakspeare,  one  of  whom 
wore  a  white  coat  and  hat,  and  had  flaxen  hair,  and 
trousers  rather  short  in  the  legs.  The  lady  by  my  side, 
and  who  had  called  my  attention  to  the  group,  asked  if 
I  could  tell  what  country  this  odd-looking  gentleman 
was  from.  Not  wishing  to  run  the  risk  of  a  mistake, 
I  was  about  declining  to  venture  an  opinion,  when  the 
reflection  of  the  sun  against  a  mirror,  on  the  opposite 
side,  threw  a  brilliant  light  upon  the  group,  and  especi- 
ally on  the  face  of  the  gentleman  in  the  white  coat,  and 
I  immediately  recognized  under  the  brim  of  the  white 
liat  the  features  of  Horace  Greeley,  Esq.,  of  the  New 
York  Tribune.  His  general  appearance  was  as  much 
out  of  the  English  style  as  that  of  the  Turk  whom 
I  had  seen  but  a  moment  before,  in  his  bag-like  trou- 
sers, shufiling  along  in  his  slippers.  But  oddness  in 
dress  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Great  Exhibi- 
tion. 

Among  the  many  things  in  the  Crystal  Palace,  there 
are  some  which  receive  greater  attention  than  others, 
around  which  may  always  be  seen  large  groups  of  the 
visitors.     The    first   of    these   is    the   Koh-i-noor,    the 

^^  Mountain  of  Light."  This  is  the  largest  and  most 
valuable  diamond  in  the  world,  said  to  be  worth  two  mil- 
lion pounds  sterling.  It  is  indeed  a  great  source  of 
attraction  to  those  who  go  to  the  Exhibition  for  the  first 
time,  buMt  is  doubtful  whether  it  obtains  such  admiration 
afterwaMs.     We  saw  more  than  one  spectator  turn  away 

*  with  the  idea  that,  after  all,  it  was  only  a  piece  of  glass. 

17^. 


198         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABBOAB. 

After  some  jamming,  I  got  a  look  at  the  precious  jewel : 
and  although  in  a  brass-grated  cage,  strong  enough  to 
hold  a  lion,  I  found  it  to  be  no  larger  than  the  third  of  a 
hen's  egg.  Two  policemen  remain  by  its  side  day  and 
night. 

The  finest  thing  in  the  Exhibition  is  the  ^'Veiled 
Vestal/'  a  statue  of  a  w^oman  carved  in  marble,  with  a 
veil  over  her  face,  and  so  neatly  done  that  it  looks  as  if 
it  had  been  thrown  over  after  it  was  finished.  The  Ex- 
hibition presents  many  things  which  appeal  to  the  eye 
and  touch  the  heart,  and  altogether  it  is  so  decorated 
and  furnished  as  to  excite  the  dullest  mind,  and  satisfy 
the  most  fastidious. 

England  has  contributed  the  most  useful  and  substan- 
tial articles  ;  France,  the  most  beautiful ;  while  Russia, 
Turkey  and  the  West  Indies,  seem  to  vie  with  each 
other  in  richness.  China  and  Persia  are  not  behind. 
Austria  has  also  contributed  a  rich  and  beautiful  stock. 
Sweden,  Norway,  Denmark,  and  the  smaller  states  of 
Europe,  have  all  tried  to  outdo  themselves  in  sending 
goods  to  the  World's  Fair.  In  machinery,  England  has 
no  competitor.  In  art,  France  is  almost  alone  in  the 
Exhibition,  setting  aside  England.  .^ 

In  natural  productions  and  provisions,  America  stands 
alone  in  her  glory.  There  lies  her  pile  of  canvassed 
hams ;  whether  they  were  wood  or  real,  we  could  not  tell. 
There  are  her  barrels  of  salt  beef  and  pork,  hgk  beauti- 
ful white  lard,  her  Indian-corn  and  corn-mea^her  rice 
and  tobacco,   her   beef-tongues,  dried   peas,  and  a  few 


PLACES    AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  199 

bags  of  cotton.  The  contributors  from  the  United  States 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  this  was  an  exhibition  of 
art,  or  they  most  certainly  would  not  have  sent  provi- 
sions. But  the  United  States  takes  the  lead  in  the  con- 
tributions, as  no  other  country  has  sent  in  provisions. 
The  finest  thing  contributed  by  our  countrymen  is  a 
large  piece  of  silk  with  an  eagle  painted  upon  it,  sur- 
rounded by  stars  and  stripes. 

After  remaining  more  than  five  hours  in  the  great  tem- 
ple, I  turned  my  back  upon  the  richly-laden  stalls,  and  left 
the  Crystal  Palace.  On  my  return  home  I  was  more  for- 
tunate than  in  the  morning,  inasmuch  as  I  found  a  seat 
for  my  friend  and  myself  in  an  omnibus.  And  even  my 
ride  in  the  close  omnibus  was  not  without  interest.  For 
I  had  scarcely  taken  my  seat,  when  my  friend,  who  was 
seated  opposite  me,  with  looks  and  gesture  informed  me 
that  we  were  in  the  presence  of  some  distinguished  per- 
son. I  eyed  the  countenances  of  the  different  persons, 
but  in  vain,  to  see  if  I  could  find  any  one  who  by  his 
appearance  showed  signs  of  superiority  over  his  fellow- 
passengers.  I  had  given  up  the  hope  of  selecting  the 
person  of  note,  w^hen  another  look  from  my  friend  di- 
rected my  attention  to  a  gentleman  seated  in  the  corner 
of  the  omnibus.  He  was  a  tall  man,  with  strongly- 
marked  features,  hair  dark  and  coarse.  There  was  a 
slight  stoop  of  the  shoulder  —  that  bend  which  is  almost 
always  J;  characteristic  of  studious  men.  But  he  wore 
upon  hfe  countenance  a  forbidding  and  disdainful  frown, 
that  seemed  to  tell  one  that  he  thought  himself  better 


200        PLACES  AND  PROPLE  ABROAD. 

tlian  those  about  liim.  His  dress  did  not  indicate  a  man 
of  high  rank ;  and  had  we  been  in  Americaj  I  would 
have  taken  him  for  an  Ohio  farmer. 

While  I  was  scanning  the  features  and  general  ap- 
pearance of  the  gentleman,  the  omnibus  stopped  and  put 
down  three  or  four  of  the  passengers,  which  gave  me  an 
opportunity  of  getting  a  seat  by  the  side  of  my  friend, 
Avho,  in  a  low  whisper,  informed  me  that  the  gentleman 
whom  I  had  been  eying  so  closely  w^as  no  less  a  person 
than  Thomas  Carlyle.  I  had  read  his  '^  Hero-worship," 
and  '^  Past  and  Present,''  and  had  formed  a  high  opinion 
of  his  literary  abilities.  But  his  recent  attack  upon  the 
emancipated  people  of  the  West  Indies,  and  his  laborious 
article  in  favor  of  the  reestablishment  of  the  lash  and 
slavery,  had  created  in  my  mind  a  dislike  for  the  man, 
and  I  almost  regretted  that  we  were  in  the  same  omni- 
bus. In  some  things  Mr.  Carlyle  is  right:  but  in 
many  he  is  entirely  wrong.  As  a  writer,  Mr.  Carlyle 
is  often  monotonous  and  extravagant.  He  does  not  ex- 
hibit a  new  view  of  nature,  or  raise  insignificant  objects 
into  importance  ;  but  generally  takes  commonplace 
thoughts  and  events,  and  tries  to  express  them  in 
stronger  and  statelier  language  than  others.  He  holds 
no  communion  with  his  kind,  but  stands  alone,  without 
mate  or  fellow.  He  is  like  a  solitary  peak,  all  access  to 
which  is  cut  off.  He  exists  not  by  sympathy,  but  by  an- 
tipathy. Mr.  Carlyle  seems  chiefly  to  try  how  he  shall 
display  his  own  powers,  and  astonish  mankind,  by  start- 
ing new  trains  of  speculation,  or  by  expressing  old  ones 


.  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        201 

SO  as  not  to  be  understood.  He  cares  little  what  he 
saySj  so  as  he  can  say  it  differently  from  others.  To 
read  his  works,  is  one  thing ;  to  understand  them,  is  an- 
other. If  any  one  thinks  that  I  exaggerate,  let  him  sit 
for  an  hour  over  ^'  Sartor  Eesartus,"  and  if  he  does  not 
rise  from  its  pages,  place  his  three  or  four  dictionaries  on 
the  shelf,  and  say  I  am  right,  I  promise  never  again  to 
say  a  word  against  Thomas  Carlyle.  He  writes  one 
page  in  favor  of  reform,  and  ten  against  it.  He  would 
hang  all  prisoners  to  get  rid  of  them ;  yet  the  inmates  of 
the  prisons  and  ''workhouses  are  better  off  than  the 
poor."  His  heart  is  with  the  poor;  yet  the  blacks  of 
the  West  Indies  should  be  taught  that  if  they  will  not 
raise  sugar  and  cotton  by  their  own  free  Avill,  ''  Quashy 
should  have  the  whip  applied  to  him.''  He  frowns  upon 
the  reformatory  speakers  upon  the  boards  of  Exeter  Hall ; 
yet  he  is  the  prince  of  reformers.  He  hates  heroes  and 
assassins;  yet  Cromwell  was  an  angel,  and  Charlotte 
Corday  a  saint.  He  scorns  everything,  and  seems  to  be 
tired  of  what  he  is  by  nature,  and  tries  to  be  what  he  is 
not. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

'*  The  time  shall  come,  when,  free  as  seas  or  wind. 
Unbounded  Thames  shall  flow  for  all  mankind 
Whole  nations  enter  with  each  swelling  tide. 
And  seas  but  join  the  regions  they  divide  ; 
Earth's  distant  ends  our  glories  shall  behold. 
And  the  New  World  launch  forth  to  meet  the  Old." 

Pope. 

The  past  six  weeks  have  been  of  a  stirring  nature  in 
this  great  metropolis.  It  commenced  with  the  Peace 
Congress,  the  proceedings  of  which  have  long  since 
reached  you.  And  although  that  event  has  passed  off, 
it  may  not  be  out  of  place  here  to  venture  a  remark  or 
two  upon  its  deliberations. 

A  meeting  upon  the  subject  of  peace,  with  the  support 
of  the  monied  and  influential  men  who  rally  around  the 
peace  standard,  could  scarcely  have  been  held  in  Exeter 
Hall  without  creating  some  sensation.  From  all  parts 
of  the  world  flocked  delegates  to  this  practical  protest 
against  war.  And  among  those  who  took  part  in  the 
proceedings  were  many  men  whose  names  alone  would, 
even  on  ordinary  occasions,  have  filled  the  great  hall. 
The  speakers  were  chosen  from  among  the  representa- 
tives of  the  various  countries,  without  regard  to  dialect 


.PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD.  203 

or  complexion ;  and  the  only  fault  which  seemed  to  be 
found  with  the  committee's  arrangement  was,  that  in 
their  desire  to  get  foreigners  and  Londoners,  they  forgot 
the  country  delegates,  so  that  none  of  the  large  provin- 
cial towns  were  at  all  represented  in  the  Congress,  so  far 
as  speaking  was  concerned.  Manchester,  Leeds,  New- 
castle, and  all  the  important  towns  in  Scotland  aud  Ire- 
land, were  silenced  in  the  great  meeting.  T  need  not 
say  that  this  was  an  oversight  of  the  committee,  and  one, 
too,  that  has  done  some  injury.  Such  men  as  the  able 
chairman  of  the  late  Anti-Corn-Law  League  cannot  be 
forgotten  in  such  a  meeting,  without  giving  offence  to 
those  who  sent  him,  especially  wheri  the  committee 
brought  forward,  day  after  day,  the  same  speakers, 
chosen  from  amongst  the  metropolitan  delegation.  How- 
ever, the  meeting  was  a  glorious  one,  and  will  long  be 
remembered  with  delight  as  a  step  onward  in  the  cause 
of  peace.  Burritt's  Brotherhood  Bazaar  followed  close 
upon  the  heels  of  the  Peace  Congress;  and  this  had 
scarcely  closed,  when  that  ever-memorable  meeting  of 
the  American  fugitive  slaves  took  place  in  the  Hall  of 
Commerce. 

The  temperance  people  made  the  next  reformatory 
move.  This  meeting  took  place  in  Exeter  Hall,  and  was 
made  up  of  delegates  from  the  various  towns  in  the  king- 
dom. They  had  come  from  the  North,  East,  West  and 
South.  There  was  the  quick-spoken  son  of  the  Emer- 
ald Isle,  with  his  pledge  suspended  from  his  neck ; 
there,  too,  the  Scot,  speaking  his  broad  dialect ;  also  the 


204        PLACES  AKD  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

representatives  from  the  provincial  towns  of  England 
and  Wales,  who  seemed  to  speak  anything  but  good 
English. 

The  day  after  the  meeting  had  closed  in  Exeter  Hall, 
the  country  societies,  together  with  those  of  the  metrop- 
olis, assembled  in  Hjde  Park,  and  then  walked  to  the 
Crystal  Palace.  Their  number  while  going  to  the  Exhi- 
bition was  variously  estimated  at  from  fifteen  thousand 
to  twenty  thousand,  and  was  said  to  have  been  the  largest 
gathering  of  teetotallers  ever  assembled  in  London.  They 
consisted  chiefly  of  the  working  classes,  their  wives  and 
children  —  clean,  well-dressed  and  apparently  happy : 
their  looks  indicating  in  every  way  those  orderly  habits 
which,  beyond  question,  distinguish  the  devotees  of  that 
cause  above  the  common  laborers  of  this  country.  On 
arriving  at  the  Exhibition,  they  soon  distributed  them- 
selves among  the  departments,  to  revel  in  its  various 
w^onders,  eating  their  own  lunch,  and  drinking  from  the 
Crystal  Fountain. 

And,  now  I  am  at  the  world's  wonder,  I  will  remain 
here  until  I  finish  this  sheet.  I  have  spent  fifteen  davs 
in  the  Exhibition,  and  have  conversed  with  those  who 
have  spent  double  that  number  amongst  its  beauties,  and 
the  general  opinion  appears  to  be  that  six  months  would 
not  be  too  long  to  remain  within  its  walls  to  enable  one 
to  examine  its  laden  stalls.  Many  persons  make  the 
Crystal  Palace  their  home^  with  the  exception  of  night. 
I  have  seen  them  come  in  the  morning,  visit  the  dress- 
ing-room, then  go  to  the  refreshment-room,  and  sit  down 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        205 

to  breakfast  as  if  they  been  at  their  hotel.  Dinner  and 
tea  would  be  taken  in  turn. 

The  Crystal  Fountain  is  the  great  place  of  meeting  in 
the  Exhibition.  There  you  may  see  husbands  looking  for 
lost  wives,  wives  for  stolen  husbands,  mothers  for  their 
lost  children,  and  towns-people  for  their  country  friends ; 
and,  unless  you  have  an  appointment  at  a  certain  place  at 
an  hour,  you  might  as  well  prowl  through  the  streets  of 
London  to  find  a  friend  as  in  the  Great  Exhibition. 
There  is  great  beauty  in  the  '^  Glass  House."  Here,  in 
the  transept,  with  the  glorious  sunlight  coming  through 
that  wonderful  glass  roof,  may  the  taste  be  cultivated 
and  improved,  the  mind  edified,  and  the  feelings  chas- 
tened. Here,  surrounded  by  noble  creations  in  marble 
and  bronze,  and  in  the  midst  of  an  admiring  throng,  one 
may  gaze  at  statuary  which  might  fitly  decorate  the 
house  of  the  proudest  prince  in  Christendom. 

He  who  takes  his  station  in  the  gallery,  at  either  end, 
and  looks  upon  that  wondrous  nave,  or  who  surveys  the 
matchless  panorama  around  him  from  the  intersection 
of  the  nave  and  transept,  may  be  said,  without  presump- 
TOn  or  exaggeration,  to  see  all  the  kingdoms  of  this 
world  and  the  glory  of  them.  He  sees  not  only  a  greater 
collection  of  fine  articles,  but  also  a  greater  as  well  as 
more  various  assemblage  of  the  human  race,  than  ever 
before  was  gathered  under  one  roof 

One  of  the  beauties  of  this  great  international  gather- 
ing is,  that  it  is  not  confined  to  rank  or  grade.  The 
million  toilers  from  mine,  and  factory,  and  workshop, 
18 


206        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

and  loom,  and  officGj  and  fieldj  share  with  their  more 
wealthy  neighbors  the  feast  of  reason  and  imagination 
spread  out  in  the  Crystal  Palace. 

It  is  strange,  indeed,  to  see  so  many  nations  assembled 
and  represented  on  one  spot  of  British  ground.  In 
short,  it  is  one  great  theatre,  with  thousands  of  per- 
formers, each  playing  his  own  part.  England  is  there, 
with  her  mighty  engines  toiling  and  whirring,  indefati- 
gable in  her  enterprises  to  shorten  labor.  India  spreads 
her  glitter  and  paint.  France,  refined  and  fastidious,  is 
there  every  day,  giving  the  last  touch  to  her  picturesque 
group ;  and  the  other  countries,  each  in  its  turn  doing 
what  it  can  to  show  off.  The  distant  hum  of  thou- 
sands of  good-humored  people,  with  occasionally  a  na- 
tional anthem  from  some  gigantic  organ,  together  with 
the  noise  of  the  machinery,  seems  to  send  life  into  every 
part  of  the  Crystal  Palace. 

When  you  get  tired  of  walking  you  can  sit  down  and 
write  your  impressions,  and  there  is  the  ^^post"  to  re- 
ceive your  letter ;  or,  if  it  be  Friday  or  Saturday,  you 
may,  if  you  choose,  rest  yourself  by  hearing  a  Jiecture 
from  Professor  Anstead;  and  then,  before  leaving,  taw 
your  last  look,  and  see  something  that  you  have  not 
before  seen.  Everything  which  is  old  in  cities,  new  in 
colonial  life,  splendid  in  courts,  useful  in  industry,  beau- 
tiful in  nature,  or  ingenious  in  invention,  is  there  repre- 
sented. In  one  place  we  have  the  Bible  translated  into 
one  hundred  and  fifty  languages ;  in  another,  we  have 
saints  and  archbishops  painted  on  glass ;  in  another,  old 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD.  207 

palaces,  and  the  altars  of  a  John  Knox,  a  Baxter,  or 
some  other  divines  of  olden  time.  In  the  old  Temple 
of  Delphi  we  read  that  every  state  of  the  civilized  world 
had  its  separate  treasury,  where  Herodotus,  born  two 
thousand  years  before  his  time,  saw  and  observed  all 
kinds  of  prodigies  in  gold  and  silver,  brass  and  iron,  and 
even  in  linen.  The  nations  all  met  there,  on  one  common 
ground,  and  the  peace  of  the  earth  was  not  a  little  pro- 
moted by  their  common  interest  in  the  sanctity  and 
splendor  of  that  shrine.  As  long  as  the  Exhibition  lasts, 
and  its  memory  endures,  we  hope  and  trust  that  it  may 
shed  the  same  influence.  With  this  hasty  scrap  I  take 
leave  of  the  Great  Exhibition. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

**  And  gray  walls  moulder  round,  on  which  dull  time 
Feeds,  like  slow  fire  upon  a  hoary  brand  ; 
And  one  keen  pyramid,  with  wedge  sublime, 
Stands  o'er  the  dust  of  him  who  planned." 

Shelley. 

I  HAVE  just  finished  a  short  visit  to  the  far-famed 
city  of  Oxford,  which  has  not  unaptly  been  styled  the 
City  of  Palaces.  Aside  from  this  being  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal seats  of  learning  in  the  world,  it  is  distinguished 
alike  for  its  religious  and  political  changes  in  times  past. 
At  one  time  it  was  the  seat  of  Popery ;  at  another,  the 
uncompromising  enemy  of  Rome.  Here  the  tyrant 
Eichard  the  Third  held  his  court;  and  when  James  the 
First  and  his  son  Charles  the  First  found  their  capij^ 
too  hot  to  hold  them,  they  removed  to  their  loyal  city  oi 
Oxford.  The  writings  of  the  great  republicans  were 
here  committed  to  the  flames.  At  one  time  Popery  sent 
Protestants  to  the  stake  and  fagot ;  at  another,  a  Papist 
king  found  no  favor  with  the  people.  A  noble  monu- 
ment now  stands  where  Cranmer,  Ridley  and  Latimer, 
proclaimed  their  sentiments  and  faith,  and  sealed  them 
with  their  blood.     And  now  we  read  upon  the  town 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        209 

treasurer's  book— '^ For  three  loads  of  wood,  one  load  of 
fagots,  one  post,  two  chains  and  staples,  to  burn  Ridley 
and  Latimer,  £1  5s.  Ic/."  Such  is  the  information  one 
gets  by  looking  over  the  records  of  books  written  three 
centuries  ago. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day  on  which  I  arrived  at  Oxford, 
and,  instead  of  remaining  in  my  hotel,  I  sallied  forth  to 
take  a  survey  of  the  beauties  of  the  city.  I  strolled 
into  Christ  Church  Meadows,  and  there  spent  the  even- 
ing in  viewing  the  numerous  halls  of  learning  which 
surround  that  splendid  promenade.  And  fine  old  build- 
ings they  are  :  centuries  have  rolled  over  many  of  them, 
hallowing  the  old  walls,  and  making  them  gray  with 
age.  They  have  been  for  ages  the  chosen  homes  of 
piety  and  philosophy.  Heroes  and  scholars  have  gone 
forth  from  their  studies  here  into  the  great  field  of  the 
world,  to  seek  their  fortunes,  and  to  conquer  and  be  con- 
quered. As  I  surveyed  the  exterior  of  the  different  col- 
leges, I  could  here  and  there  see  the  reflection  of  the 
light  from  the  window  of  some  student,  who  was  busy  at 
Jus  studies,  or  throwing  away  his  time  over  some  trashy 
novel,  too  many  of  which  find  their  way  into  the  trunks 
or  carpet-bags  of  the  young  men  on  setting  out  for  col- 
lege. As  I  looked  upon  the  walls  of  these  buildings  I 
thought,  as  the  rough  stone  is  taken  from  the  quarry  to 
the  finisher,  there  to  be  made  into  an  ornament,  so  was 
the  young  mind  brought  here  to  be  cultivated  and  devel- 
oped. Many  a  poor,  unobtrusive  young  man,  with  the 
appearance  of  little  or  no  ability,  is  here  moulded  into  a 
18^ 


210  PLACES  AKB  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

hero,  a  scholarj  a  tyrant,  or  a  friend  of  humanity.  I 
never  look  upon  these  monuments  of  education  without  a 
feeling  of  regret  that  so  few  of  our  own  race  can  find  a 
place  w^ithin  their  walls.  And,  this  being  the  fact,  I  see 
more  and  more  the  need  of  our  people  being  encouraged 
tO-  turn  their  attention  more  seriously  to  self-education, 
and  thus  to  take  a  respectable  position  before  the  world, 
by  virtue  of  their  own  cultivated  minds  and  moral 
standing. 

Education,  though  obtained  by  a  little  at  a  time,  and 
that,  too,  over  the  midnight  lamp,  will  place  its  owner  in 
a  position  to  be  respected  by  all,  even  though  he  be 
black.  I  know  that  the  obstacles  which  the  laws  of  the 
land  and  of  society  place  between  the  colored  man  and 
education  in  the  United  States  are  very  great,  yet  if  one 
can  break  through  these  barriers  more  can ;.  and  if  our 
people  would  only  place  the  right  appreciation  upon  edu- 
cation, they  would  find  these  obstacles  are  easier  to  be 
overcome  than  at  first  sight  appears.  A  young  man 
once  asked  Carlyle  what  was  the  secret  of  success.  His 
reply  was,  '^Energy;  whatever  you  undertake,  do  it  with 
all  your  might."  Had  it  not  been  for  the  possession  of 
energy,  I  might  now  have  been  working  as  a  servant  for 
some  brainless  fellow  who  might  be  able  to  command  my 
labor  with  his  money,  or  I  might  have  been  yet  toiling 
in  chains  and  slavery.  But  thanks  to  energy,  not  only  for 
my  being  to-day  in  a  land  of  freedom,  but  also  for  my  dear 
girls  being  in  one  of  the  best  seminaries  in  France,  in- 
stead of  being  in  an  American  school,  where  the  finger 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABBOAD.        211 

of  scorn  would  be  pointed  at  them  by  those  whose  supe- 
riority rests  entirely  upon  their  having  a  whiter  skin. 

Oxford  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  finest  located  places  in  the 
kingdom,  and  every  inch  of  ground  about  it  seems  hallowed 
by  interesting  associations.  The  university,  founded  by 
the  good  King  Alfred,  still  throws  its  shadow  upon  the 
side- walk  ;  and  the  lapse  of  ten  centuries  seems  to  have 
made  but  little  impression  upon  it.  Other  seats  of  learn- 
ing may  be  entitled  to  our  admiration,  but  Oxford  claims 
our  veneration.  Although  the  lateness  of  the  night 
compelled  me,  yet  I  felt  an  unwillingness  to  tear  myself 
from  the  scene  of  such  surpassing  interest.  Few  places 
in  any  country  as  noted  as  Oxford  is  are  without  some 
distinguished  person  residing  within  their  precincts ;  and, 
knowing  that  the  city  of  palaces  was  not  an  exception  to 
this  rule,  I  resolved  to  see  some  of  its  lions.  Here,  of 
course,  is  the  head-quarters  of  the  Bishop  of  Oxford,  a 
son  of  the  late  William  Wilberforce,  Africa's  noble 
champion.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  seen  this 
distinguished  pillar  of  the  church ;  but  I  soon,  learned 
that  the  bishop's  residence  was  out  of  town,  and  that  he 
seldom  visited  the  city,  except  on  business.  I  then 
determined  to  see  one  who,  although  a  lesser  dignitary 
in  the  church,  is,  nevertheless,  scarcely  less  known  than 
the  Bishop  of  Oxford.  This  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Pusey, 
a  divine  whose  name  is  known  wherever  the  religion  of 
Jesus  is  known  and  taught,  and  the  acknowledged  head 
of  the  Puseyites.  On  the  second  morning  of  my  visit  I 
proceeded  to  Christ  Church  Chapel,  where  the  reverend 


212        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

gentleman  officiates.  Fortunately  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  the  doctor,  and  following  close  in  his  footsteps 
to  the  church.  His  personal  appearance  is  anything  but 
that  of  one  who  is  the  leader  of  a  growing  and  powerful 
party  in  the  church.  He  is  rather  under  the  middle 
size,  and  is  round-shouldered,  or  rather  stoops.  His 
profile  is  more  striking  than  his  front  face,  the  nose  being 
very  large  and  prominent.  As  a  matter  of  course,  I  ex- 
pected to  see  a  large  nose,  for  all  great  men  have  them. 
He  has  a  thoughtful  and  somewhat  sullen  brow,  a  firm  and 
somewhat  pensive  mouth,  a  cheek  pale,  thin,  and  deeply 
furrowed.  A  monk  fresh  from  the  cloisters  of  Tinterran 
Abbey,  in  its  proudest  days,  could  scarcely  have  made  a 
more  ascetic  and  solemn  appearance  than  did  Dr.  Pusey 
on  this  occasion.  He  is  not  apparently  above  forty-five, 
or,  at  most,  fifty  years  of  age,  and  his  w^hole  aspect  renders 
him  an  admirable  study  for  an  artist.  Dr.  Pusey's  style 
of  preaching  is  cold  and  tame,  and  one  looking  at  him 
would  scarcely  believe  that  such  an  apparently  uninter- 
esting man  could  cause  such' an  eruption  in  the  church  as 
he  has.  T  was  glad  to  find  that  a  colored  young  man 
was  among  the  students  at  Oxford. 

A  few  months  since,  I  paid  a  visit  to  our  countryman, 
Alexander  Crummel,  who  is  still  pursuing  his  studies  at 
Cambridge, —  a  place  which,  though  inferior  to  Oxford 
as  far  as  appearance  is  concerned,  is  yet  said  to  be  greatly 
its  superior  as  a  place  of  learning.  In  an  hour's  walk 
through  the  Strand,  Eegent-street  or  Piccadilly,  in 
London,  one  may  meet  half  a  dozen  colored  men^  who  are 


'C-N 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        213 

inmates  of  the  various  colleges  in  the  metropolis.  These 
are  all  signs  of  progress  in  the  cause  of  the  sons  of 
Africa.  Then  let  our  people  take  courage,  and  with 
that  courage  let  them  apply  themselves  to  learning.  A 
determination  to  excel  is  the  sure  road  to  greatness,  and 
that  is  as  open  to  the  black  man  as  the  white.  It  is 
that  which  has  accomplished  the  mightiest  and  noblest 
triumphs  in  the  intellectual  and  physical  world.  It  is 
that  which  has  made  such  rapid  strides  towards  civiliza- 
tion, and  broken  the  chains  of  ignorance  and  superstition 
which  have  so  long  fettered  the  human  intellect,  ^t  was 
determination  which  raised  so  many  worthy  individuals 
from  the  humble  walks  of  society,  and  from  poverty,  and 
placed  them  in  positions  of  trust  and  renown.  It  is  no 
slight  barrier  that  can  effectually  oppose  the  determina- 
tion of  the  will ;  —  success  must  ultimately  crown  its 
efiForts.  ^^  The  world  shall  hear  of  me,"  was  the  excla- 
mation of  one  whose  name  has  become  as  familiar  as 
household  words.  A  Toussaiiit  once  labored  in  the 
sugar-field  with  his  spelling-book  in  his  pocket,  amid  the 
combined  efforts  of  a;  nation  to  keep  him  in  ignorance. 
His  name  is  now  recorded  among  the  list  of  statesmen  of 
the  past.  A  Soulouque  was  once  a  slave,  and  knew  not 
how  to  read.  He  now  sits  upon  the  throne  of  an 
empire. 

In  our  own  country  there  are  men  who  once  held  the. 
plough,  and  that  too  without  any  compensation,  who  are 
now  presiding  at  the  editor's  table.  It  was  determina- 
tion that  brought  out  the  genius  of  a  Franklin,  and  a 


214  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

Fulton,  and  that  has  distinguished  many  of  the  Ameri- 
can statesmen,  who,  but  for  their  energy  and  determina- 
tion, would  never  have  had  a  name  beyond  the  precincts 
of  their  own  homes. 

It  is  not  always  those  who  have  the  best  advantages, 
or  the  greatest  talents,  that  eventually  succeed  in  their 
undertakings :  but  it  is  those  who  strive  with  untiring 
diligence  to  remove  all  obstacles  to  success,  and  who, 
with  unconquerable  resolution,  labor  on  until  the  rich 
reward  of  perseverance  is  within  their  grasp.  Then 
again  let  me  say  to  our  young  men.  Take  courage. 
^^  There  is  a  good  time  coming."  The  darkness  of  the 
night  appears  greatest  just  before  the  dawn  of  day. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

"  Blush  ye  not 
To  boast  your  equal  laws,  your  just  restraints, 
Your  rights  defined,  your  liberties  secured  ; 
Whilst,  with  an  iron  hand,  ye  crush  to  earth 
The  helpless  African,  and  bid  him  drink 
That  cup  of  sorrow  which  yourselves  have  dashed. 
Indignant,  from  Oppression's  fainting  grasp  ?  " 

William  Roscoe. 

The  love  of  freedom  is  one  of  those  natural  impulses 
of  the  human  breast  which  cannot  be  extinguished.  Even ' 
the  brute  animals  of  the  creation  feel  and  show  sorrow 
and  aflFection  when  deprived  of  their  liberty.  Therefore 
is  a  distinguished  writer  justified  in  saying,  ''Man  is 
free,  even  were  he  born  in  chains."  The  Americans 
boast,  and  justly  too,  that  Washington  was  the  hero  and 
model  patriot  of  the  American  Revolution, —  the  man 
whose  fame,  unequalled  in  his  own  day  and  country,  will 
descend  to  the  end  of  time,  the  pride  and  honor  of 
humanity.  The  American  speaks  with  pride  of  the 
battles  of  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill ;  and,  when  stand- 
ing in  Faneuil  Hall,  he  points  to  the  portraits  of  Otis, 
Adams,  Hancock,   Quincy,  Warren  and  Franklin,  and 


216        PLACES  ANB  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

tells  you  that  their  names  will  go  down  to  posterity 
among  the  world's  most  devoted  and  patriotic  friends  of 
human  liberty. 

It  was  on  the  first  of  August,  1851,  that,  a  number 
of  men,  fugitives  from  that  boasted  land  of  freedom, 
assembled  at  the  Hall  of  Commerce  in  the  city  of  London, 
for  the  purpose  of  laying  their  wrongs  before  the  British 
nation,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  give  thanks  to  the  God 
of  freedom  for  the  liberation  of  their  West  India  brethren 
on  the  first  of  August,  1834.  Little  notice  had  been 
given  of  the  intended  meeting,  yet  it  seemed  to  be  ^nown 
in  all  parts  of  the  city.  At  the  hour  of  half-past  seven, 
for  which  the  meeting  had  been  called,  the  spacious  hall 
was  well  filled,  and  the  fugitives,  followed  by  some  of  the 
most  noted  English  Abolitionists,  entered  the  hall,  amid 
the  most  deafening  applause,  and  took  their  seats  on  the 
platform.  The  appearance  of  the  great  hall  at  this  junc- 
ture was  most  splendid.  Besides  the  committee  of  fugi- 
tives, on  the  platform  there  were  a  number  of  the  oldest 
and  most  devoted  of  the  slaves'  friends.  On  the  left  of 
the  chair  sat  Geo.  Thompson,  Esq.,  M.P.  ;  near  him 
was  the  Kev.  Jabez  Burns,  D.D.,  and  by  his  side  the 
Rev.  John  Stevenson,  M.A.,  Wm.  Farmer,  Esq.,  R. 
Smith,  Esq.  ;  while  on  the  other  side  were  Joseph 
Hume,  Esq.,  M.P.,  John  Lee,  LL.D.,  Sir  J.  Walmsley, 
M.P.,  the  Rev.  Edward  Matthews,  John  Cunliff.  Esq., 
Andrew  Paton,  Esq.,  J.  P.  Edwards,  Esq.,  and  a  number 
of  colored  gentlemen  from  the  West  Indies.  The  body 
of  the  hall  was  not  without  its  distinguished  guests.    The 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  217 

Chapmans  and  Westons  of  Boston,  U.  S.,  were  there. 
The  Estlins  and  Tribes  had  come  all  the  way  from  Bristol 
to  attend  the  great  meeting.  The  Batons,  of  Glasgow, 
had  delayed  their  departure,  so  as  to  be  present.  The 
Massies  had  come  in  from  Upper  Clapton.  Not  far  from 
the  platform  sat  Sir  Francis  Knowles,  Bart. ;  still  further 
back  was  Samuel  Bowly,  Esq.,  while  near  the  door  were 
to  be  seen  the  greatest  critic  of  the  age,  and  England's 
best  living  poet.  Macaulay  had  laid  aside  the  pen, 
entered  the  hall,  and  was  standing  near  the  central  door, 
while  not  far  from  the  historian  stood  the  newly-ap- 
pointed Poet  Laureate.  The  author  of  ^'  In  Memoriam" 
had  been  swept  in  by  the  crowd,  and  was  standing  with 
his  arms  folded,  and  beholding  for  the  first  time  (and 
probably  the  last)  so  large  a  number  of  colored  men  in  '1 
one  room.  In  different  parts  of  the  hall  were  men  and 
women  from  nearly  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  besides  a 
large  number  who,  drawn  to  London  by  the  Exhibition, 
had  come  in  to  see  and  hear  these  oppressed  people  plead 
their  own  cause. 

The  writer  of  this  sketch  was  chosen  chairman  of  the 
meeting,  and  commenced  its  proceedings  by  delivering 
the  following  address,  which  we  cut  from  the  columns 
of  the  Morning  Advertiser  : 

^  ^'  The  chairman,  in  opening  the  proceedings,  remarked 
that,  although  the  metropolis  had  of  late  been  inundated 
with  meetings  of  various  characters,  having  reference  to 
almost  every  variety  of  subjects,  yet  that  the  subject 
19 


Jl 


218        PLACES  AMD  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

they  were  called  upon  that  evening  to  discuss  differed 
from  them  all.  Many  of  those  by  whom  he  was  sur- 
rounded, like  himself,  had  been  victims  to  the  inhuman 
institution  of  slavery,  and  were  in  consequence  exiled 
from  the  land  of  their  birth.  They  were  fugitives  from 
their  native  land,  but  not  fugitives  from  justice;  and  they 
had  not  fled  from  a  monarchical,  but  from  a  so-called 
republican  government.  They  came  from  amongst  a 
people  who  declared,  as  part  of  their  creed,  that  all  men 
were  born  free ;  but  who,  while  they  did  so,  made  slaves 
of  every  sixth  man,  woman  and  child,  in  the  country. 
(Hear,  hear.)  He  must  not,  however,  forget  that  one  of 
the  purposes  for  which  they  were  met  that  night  was  to 
commemorate  the  emancipation  of  their  brothers  and. 
sisters  in  the  isles  of  the  sea.  That  act  of  the  British 
Parliament,  and  he  might  add  in  this  case,  with  peculiar 
emphasis,  of  the  British  nation,  passed  on  the  twelfth 
day  of  August,  1833,  to  take  effect  on  the  first  day  of 
August,  1834,  and  which  enfranchised  eight  hundred 
thousand  Vv^est  Indian  slaves,  was  an  event  sublime  in  its 
nature,  comprehensive  and  mighty  in  its  immediate  in- 
fluences and  remote  consequences,  precious  beyond  ex- 
pression to  the  cause  of  freedom,  and  encouraging  beyond 
the  measure  of  any  government  on  earth  to  the  hearts 
of  all  enlightened  and  just  men.  This  act  was  the  result 
of  a  long  course  of  philanthropic  and  Christian  efforts  on 
the  part  of  some  of  the  best  men  that  the  world  ever  pro- 
duced. It  was  not  his  intention  to  go  into  a  discussion 
or  a  calculation   of  the   rise    and  fall  of  property,   or 


.  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         219 

whether  sugar  was  worth  more  or  less  by  the  act  of 
emancipation.  But  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  West 
Indies  was  a  blow  struck  in  the  right  direction,  at  thut 
most  inhuman  of  all  traffics,  the  slave-trade  —  a  trade 
which  would  never  cease  so  long  as  slavery  existed ;  for 
where  there  was  a  market  there  would  be  merchandise ; 
where  there  was  demand  there  would  be  a  supply  ;  where 
there  were  carcasses  there  would  be  vultures;  and  they 
might  as  well  attempt  to  turn  the  water,  and  make  it 
run  up  the  Niagara  river,  as  to  change  this  law. 

^^It  was  often  said  by  the  Americans  that  England 
was  responsible  for  the  existence  of  slavery  there,  be- 
cause it  was  introduced  into  that  country  while  the  colo- 
nies were  under  the  British  crown.  If  that  were  the 
case,  they  must  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  as  England 
abolished  slavery  in  the  West  Indies,  she  would  have 
done  the  same  for  the  American  States  if  she  had  had  the 
power  to  do  it ;  and  if  that  was  so,  they  might  safely  say 
that  the  separation  of  the  United  States  from  the  mother 
country  was  (to  say  the  least)  a  great  misfortune  to  one 
sixth  of  the  population  of  that  land.  England  had  set  a 
noble  example  to  America,  and  he  would  to  heaven  his 
countrymen  would  follow  the  example.  The  Americans 
boasted  of  their  superior  knowledge ;  but  they  needed  not 
to  boast  of  their  superior  guilt,  for  that  was  set  upon  a 
hill-top,  and  that,  too,  so  high,  that  it  required  not  the 
lantern  of  Diogenes  to  find  it  out.  Every  breeze  from 
the  western  world  brought  upon  its  wings  the  groans  and 
cries  of  the  victims  of  this  guilt.     Nearly  all  countries 


220  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABK0A1>. 

had  fixed  the  seal  of  disapprobation  on  slavery ;  and  when, 
at  some  future  age,  this  stain  on  the  page  of  history 
shall  be  pointed  at,  posterity  will  blush  at  the  discrepancy 
between  American  profession  and  American  practice. 
What  was  to  be  thought  of  a  people  boasting  of  their 
liberty,  their  humanity,  their  Christianity,  their  love  of 
justice,  and  at  the  same  time  keeping  in  slavery  nearly 
four  millions  of  God's  children,  and  shutting  out  from 
them  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  by  denying  the  Bible  to 
the  slave  !  (Hear,  hear.)  No  education,  no  marriage, 
everything  done  to  keep  the  mind  of  the  slave  in  dark- 
ness. There  was  a  wish  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  the 
Northern  States  to  shield  themselves  from  the  charge  of 
slaveholding ;  but,  as  they  shared  in  the  guilt,  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  letting  them  off  without  their  share  in  the 
odium. 

'^^  And  now  a  word  about  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill. 
That  measure  was  in  every  respect  an  unconstitutional 
measure.  It  set  aside  the  right  formerly  enjoyed  by  the 
fugitive  of  trial  by  jury ;  it  afibrded  to  him  no  protec- 
tion, no  opportunity  of  proving  his  right  to  be  free  ;  and 
it  placed  every  free  colored  person  at  the  mercy  of  any 
unprincipled  individual  who  might  wish  to  lay  claim  to 
him.  (Hear.)  That  law  is  opposed  to  the  principles 
of  Christianity  —  foreign  alike  to  the  laws  of  God  and 
man.  It  had  converted  the  whole  population  of  the  Free 
States  into  a  band  of  slave-catchers,  and  every  rood  of 
territory  is  but  so  much  hunting-ground,  over  which 
they  might  chase  the  fugitive.     But  while  they  w^ere 


PLACES    AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  221 

speaking  of  slavery  in  the  United  States,  they  must  not 
omit  to  mention  that  there  was  a  strong  feeling  in  that 
land,  not  only  against  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  but  also 
against  the  existence  of  slavery  in  any  form.  There 
was  a  band  of  fearless  men  and  women  in  the  United 
States,  whose  labors  for  the  slave  had  resulted  in  good 
beyond  calculation.  This  noble  and  heroic  class  had 
created  an  agitation  in  the  w^hole  country,  until  their 
principles  have  taken  root  in  almost  every  association  in 
the  land,  and  which,  with  God's  blessing,  will,  in  due 
time,  cause  the  Americans  to  put  into  practice  what  they 
have  so  long  professed.  (Hear,  hear.)  He  wished  it^o 
be  continually  held  up  before  the  country,  that  the 
Northern  States  are  as  deeply  implicated  in  the  guilt  of 
slavery  as  the  South.  The  North  had  a  population  of 
13,553,828  freemen;  the  South  had  a  population  of 
only  6,393,756  freemen;  the  North  has  152  representa- 
tives in  the  House,  the  South  only  81 ;  and  it  would  be^ 
seen  by  this  that  the  balance  of  power  was  with  the  Free 
States.  Looking,  therefore,  at  the  question  in  all  its 
aspects,  he  was  sure  that  there  was  no  one  in  this  coun- 
try but  who  would  find  out  that  the  slavery  of  the 
United  States  of  America  was  a  system  the  most  aban- 
doned and  the  most  tyrannical     (Hear,  hear.)" 

At  the  close  of  this  address,  the  Eev.  Edward  Mat- 
thews, from  Bristol,  but  who  had  recently  returned  from 
the  United  States,  where  he  had  been  maltreated  on  ac- 
count of  his  fidelity  to  the  cause  of  freedom,  was  intro- 
19^ 


222        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

ducedj  and  made  a  most  interesting  speech.  The  next 
speaker  was  George  Thompson,  Esq.,  M.P. ;  and  we 
need  only  say  that  his  eloquence,  which  has  seldom  if 
ever  been  equalled,  and  never  surpassed,  exceeded,  on  this 
occasion,  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  his  friends. 
All  who  sat  under  the  thundering  anathemas  which  he 
hurled  against  slavery  seemed  instructed,  delighted,  and 
animated.  Scarcely  any  one  could  have  remained  un- 
moved by  the  pensive  sympathies  that  pervaded  the  entire 
assembly.  There  were  many  in  the  meeting  who  had 
never  seen  a  fugitive  slave  before,  and  when  any  of  the 
speakers  would  refer  to  those  on  the  platform  the  whole 
audience  seemed  moved  to  tears.  No  meeting  of  the 
kind  held  in  London  for  years  created  a  greater  sensa- 
tion than  this  gathering  of  refugees  from  the  ^^  Land  of 
the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave.'' 

The  Rev.  J.  Burns,  D.D.,  next  made   an  eloquent 
speech,  and  was  followed  by  J.  P.  Edwards,  Esq. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

**  For  't  is  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich  ; 
And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 
So  Honor  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit.'* 

Shakspeaile. 

After  strolling,  for  more  than  two  hours,  through  the 
beautiful  town  of  Lemington,  in  which  I  had  that  morn- 
ing arrived,  a  gentleman,  to  whom  I  had  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction, asked  me  if  I  was  not  going  to  visit  Shaks- 
peare's  House.  It  was  only  then  that  I  called  to  mind 
the  fact  that  I  Avas  within  a  few  miles  of  the  birthplace 
of  the  world's  greatest  literary  genius.  A  horse  and 
chaise  was  soon  procured,  and  I  on  my  way  to  Stratford. 
A  quick  and  pleasant  ride  brought  me  to  the  banks  of 
the  Avon,  and,  a  short  time  after,  to  the  little  but  pic- 
turesque town  of  Stratford.  I  gave  the  horse  in  charge 
of  the  man-of- all- work  at  the  inn,  and  then  started  for 
the  much-talked-of  and  celebrated  cottage.  I  found  it 
to  be  a  small,  mean-looking  house  of  wood  and  plaster, 
the  walls  of  which  are  covered  with  names,  inscriptions 
and  hieroglyphics,  in  every  language,  by  people  of  all 
nations,  ranks  and  conditions,  from  the  highest  to  the 


224        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

lowest,  who  have  made  their  pilgrimage  there.  The  old 
shattered  and  worn-out  stock  of  the  gun  with  which 
Shakspeare  shot  Sir  Thomas  Lucy's  deer  was  shown  to 
us.  The  old-fashioned  tobacco-box  was  also  there.  The 
identical  sword  with  which  he  played  Hamlet,  the  lan- 
tern with  which  Romeo  and  Juliet  were  discovered,  lay 
on  the  table.  A  plentiful  supply  of  Shakspeare' s  mul- 
berry-tree was  there,  and  we  were  asked  if  we  did  not 
want  to  purchase ;  but,  fearing  that  it  was  not  the  genu- 
ine article,  we  declined.  In  one  of  the  most  gloomy  and 
dilapidated  rooms  is  the  old  chair  in  which  the  poet  used 
to  sit.  After  viewing  everything  of  interest,  and  paying 
the  elderly  young  woman  (old  maid)  her  accustomed  fee, 
we  left  the  poet's  birthplace  to  visit  his  grave.  We 
were  soon  standing  in  the  chancel  of  the  parish  church,  a 
large  and  venerable  edifice,  mouldering  with  age,  but 
finely  ornamented  within,  and  the  ivy  clinging  around 
without.  It  stands  in  a  beautiful  situation  on  the  banks 
of  the  Avon.     Garrick  has  most  truthfully  said : 

**  Thou  soft-flowing  Ay  on,  by  thy  silver  stream 
Of  things  more  than  mortal  sweet  Shakspeare  would  dream  ;^' 
The  fairies  by  moonlight  dance  round  his  green  bed, 
For  hallowed  the  turf  is  which  pillowed  his  head." 

The  picturesque  little  stream  runs  murmuring  at  the 
foot  of  the  chureh-yard,  disturbed  only  by  the  branches 
of  the  large  el^^  t^at  stand  on  the  banks,  and  whose 
limbs  droop  dpwB.  A  fiat  stone  is  the  only  thing  that 
marks  the  place  where  the  poet  lies  buried.     I  copied 


on 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         22 

the  following  verse  from  the  stone,  and  which  is  said  to 
have  been  written  by  the  bard  himself: 

**  Good  friend,  for  Jesus'  saKO,  forbeare 
To  dig  the  dust  enclosed  here  : 
Blessed  be  he  that  spares  these  stones, 
And  cursed  be  he  that  moves  my  bones." 

Above  the  grave,  in  a  niche  in  the  w^all,  is  a  bust  of 
the  poet,  placed  there  not  long  after  his  death,  and  which 
is  supposed  to  bear  some  resemblance.  Shakspeare's 
wife  and  daughter  lie  near  him.  After  beholding  every- 
thing of  any  possible  interest,  we  stepped  into  our  chaise 
and  were  soon  again  in  Lemington  ;  which,  by  the  by,  is 
the  most  beautiful  town  in  all  Great  Britain,  not  except- 
ing Cheltenham.  In  the  evening  I  returned  to  Coven- 
try, and  was  partaking  of  the  hospitality  of  my  excellent 
friend,  Joseph  Cash,  Esq.,  of  Sherburne  House,  and  had 
stretched  myself  out  on  a  sofa,  with  Carlyle's  Life  of 
Stirling  in  my  hands,  when  I  was  informed  that  the 
younger  members  of  the  family  were  preparing  to  attend 
a  lecture  at  the  Mechanics'  Institution.  I  did  not  feel 
inclined  to  stir  from  my  easy  position,  after  the  fatigues 
of  the  day ;  but,  learniDg  that  the  lecturer  was  George 
Dawson,  Esq.,  I  resolved  to  join  the  company. 

The  hall  was  nearly  filled  when  we  reached  it,  which 
was  only  a  few  minutes  before  the  commencement  of  the 
lecture.  The  stamping  of  feet  and  clapping  of  hands 
—  which  is  the  best  evidence  of  an  Englishman's  impa- 
tience —  brought   before   us   a   thin-faced,   spare-made, 


226        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

wiry-looking  man,  with  rather  a  dark  complexion  for  an 
Englishman,  but  with  prepossessing  features.  I  must 
confess  that  I  entered  the  room  with  some  little  preju- 
dice against  the  speaker,  caused  by  an  unfavorable  crit- 
icism from  the  pen  of  George  Gilfillan,  the  essayist. 
However,  I  was  happily  disappointed.  His  style  is 
witty,  keen  and  gentle,  vfith  the  language  of  the  draw- 
ing-room. His  smiling  countenance,  piercing  glance 
and  musical  voice,  captivated  his  audience.  Mr.  Daw- 
son's subject  was  ^'The  Rise  and  Spread  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  Race,''  and  he  showed  that  he  understood  his  task. 
During  his  discourse  he  said : 

^^  The  Greeks  and  Romans  sent  out  colonies ;  but  no 
nation  but  England  ever  before  gave  a  nation  birth.  The 
Americans  are  a  nation,  with  no  language,  no  creed,  no 
grave-yards.  Their  names  are  a  derivation ;  and  it  is 
laughable  to  see  the  pains  an  American  takes  to  appear 
national.  He  will  soon  explain  to  you  that  he  is  not  an 
Englishman,  but  a  free-born  citizen  of  the  U-nited 
States,  with  a  pretty  considerable  contempt  for  them 
British-ers.  These  notions  make  an  Englishman  smile ; 
the  Americans  are  a  nation  without  being  a  nation ;  they 
are  impressed  with  an  idea  that  they  have  characteristics, 
—  they  are  odd,  not  national,  and  remind  one  of  a  long, 
slender  youth,  somewhat  sallow,  who  has  just  had  a  new 
watch,  consequently  blasphemes  the  old  one ;  and  as  for 
the  watch  his  father  used,  what  is  it  ?  —  a  turnip  ;  by 
this  means  he  assumes  the  independent.  The  American 
is  independent ;  he  flaunts  it  in  your  face,  and  surprises 


PLACES    AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  227 

you  with  his  galvanic  attempts  at  showing  off  his  nation- 
ality. They  have,  in  fact,  no  literature ;  we  don't  want 
them  to  have  any,  as  long  as  they  can  draw  from  the  old 
country ;  the  feeling  is  kindly,  and  should  be  cherished  ; 
it  is  like  the  boy  at  Christmas  coming  home  to  spend  the 
holidaj^s.  Long  may  they  draw  inspiration  from  Shaks- 
peare  and  Milton,  and  come  again  and  again  to  the  old 
well.  Walking  down  Broadway  is  like  looking  at  a 
page  of  the  Polyglot  Bible.  America  was  founded  in  a 
great  thought,  peopled  through  liberty;  and  long  may 
that  country  be  the  noblest  thing  that  England  has  to 
boast  of 

'^  Some  people  think  that  we,  as  a  nation,  are  going 
down ;  that  we  have  passed  the  millennium  ;  but  there  is 
no  reason  yet.  We  have  work  to  do, —  gold  mines  to  dig, 
railways  to  construct,  &c.  &c.  When  all  the  work  is 
done,  then,  and  not  till  then,  will  the  Saxon  folk  have 
finished  their  destiny.  We  have  continents  to  fill  yet : 
our  work  is  not  done  till  Europe  is  free.  When  Emer- 
son visited  us,  he  said  that  England  was  not  an  old  coun- 
try, but  had  the  two-fold  character  of  youth  and  age ; 
he  saw  new  cities,  new  docks  ;  a  good  day's  work  yet  to 
be  done,  and  many  vast  undertakings  only  just  begun. 
The  coal,  the  iron  and  the  gold,  are  ours ;  we  have  noble 
days  in  store,  but  we  must  labor  more  than  we  have  yet 
done.  Talk  of  going  down !  —  we  have  hardly  arrived  at 
our  meridian.  We  have  our  faults ;  any  Frenchman  or 
German  may  point  them  out.  We  have  our  duties,  and 
often  waste  our  precious  moments  by  indulging  in  one 


228         PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

eternal  grumble  at  what  we  do,  compared  to  w^hat  we 
ought  to  do.  A  little  praise  is  good  sometimes, —  we 
walk  the  taller  for  it,  and  work  the  better.  Only  as 
we  know  our  work  here,  and  do  it  as  our  fathers  did, 
shall  we  promote  good ;  working  heartily,  and  not  fal- 
tering until  the  object  is  gained.  The  more  we  add  to 
the  happiness  of  a  people,  the  more  we  shall  be  worthy 
of  the  good  gifts  of  God." 

As  an  orator,  Mr.  Dawson  stands  deservedly  high ; 
and  was  on  several  occasions  applauded  to  the  echo.  He 
was  educated  for  the  ministry  in  the  Orthodox  persuasion, 
but  left  it  and  became  a  Unitarian,  and  has  since  gone  a 
step  further.  Mr.  Dawson  resides  in  Birmingham, 
where  he  has  a  fine  chapel,  and  a  most  intellectual  con- 
gregation, and  is  considered  the  Theodore  Parker  of 
England. 

It  is  indeed  strange,  the  impression  which  a  mind 
well  cultivated  can  make  upon  those  about  it ;  and  in 
this  we  see  more  clearly  the  need  of  education.  In  what- 
ever light  we  view  education,  it  cannot  fail  to  appear  the 
most  important  subject  that  can  engage  the  attention  of 
mankind.  When  we  contrast  the  ignorance,  the  rude- 
ness and  the  helplessness  of  the  savage,  with  the  knowl- 
edge, the  refinement  and  the  resources  of  civilized  man, 
the  difference  between  them  appears  so  wide,  that  they 
can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  of  the  same  species ;  yet 
compare  the  infant  of  the  savage  with  that  of  the  edu- 
cated and  enlightened  philosopher,  and  you  will  find  them 
in  all  respects  the  same.     The  same  high^  capacious 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         229 

powers  of  the  mind  lie  folded  up  in  both,  and  in  both  the 
organs  of  sensation  adapted  to  these  mental  powers  are 
exactly  similar.  All  the  difference  which  is  afterwards 
to  distinguish  them  depends  entirely  upon  their  educa- 
tion, energy  and  self-culture. 
20 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

**  Proud  pile  !  tliat  rearest  thy  hoary  head. 
In  ruin  vast,  in  silence  dread. 

O'er  Teme's  luxuriant  vale, 
Thy  moss-grown  halls,  thy  precincts  drear, 
To' musing  Fancy's  pensive  ear 

Unfold  a  varied  tale." 

It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  Decemberj  and  on  one  of 
the  coldest  nights  that  I  have  experienced,  that  I  found 
myself  seated  before  the  fire,  and  alone,  in  the  principal 
hotel  in  the  town  of  Ludlow,  and  within  a  few  minutes' 
walk  of  the  famous  old  castle  from  which  the  town  de- 
rives its  name.  A  ride  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
by  rail,  in  such  uncomfortable  carriages  as  no  country 
except  Great  Britain  furnishes  for  the  weary  traveller, 
and  twenty  miles  on  the  top  of  a  coach,  in  a  drenching 
rain,  caused  me  to  remain  by  the  fire's  side  to  a  later 
hour  than  I  otherwise  would  have  done.  ^'  Did  you 
rin^,  sir?"  asked  the  waiter,  as  the  clock  struck  twelve. 
'•  No,"  I  replied;  but  I  felt  that  this  was  the  servant's 
mode  of  informing  me  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  retire 
to  bed,  and  consequently  I  asked  for  a  candle,  and  was 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        231 

shown  to  my  chamber,  and  was  soon  in  bed.  From  the 
weiirht  of  the  coverin^z:  on  the  bed,  I  felt  sure  that  the 
extra  blanket  which  I  had  requested  to  be  put  on  w^as 
there ;  yet  I  was  shivering  with  cold.  As  the  sheets 
began  to  get  warm,  I  discovered,  to  my  astonishment, 
that  they  were  damp ;  indeed,  wet.  My  first  thought 
was  to  ring  the  bell  for  the  chambermaid,  and  have  them 
changed ;  but,  after  a  moment's  consideration,  I  resolved 
to  adopt  a  diiferent  course.  I  got  out  of  bed,  pulled  the 
sheets  off,  rolled  them  up,  raised  the  window,  and  threw 
them  into  the  street.  After  disposing  of  the  wet  sheets, 
I  returned  to  bed  and  got  in  between  the  blankets,  and 
lay  there  trembling  with  cold  till  Morpheus  came  to 
my  relief.  The  next  morning  I  said  nothing  about  the 
uncomfortable  night  I  had  experienced,  and  determined 
to  leave  it  until  they  discovered  the  loss  of  the  sheets. 
As  soon  as  I  had  breakfasted,  I  went  out  to  view  the 
castle.  For  many  years  this  was  one  of  the  strongest 
baronial  fortifications  in  England.  It  was  from  Ludlow 
Castle  that  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  and  his  brother, 
were  taken  to  London  and  put  to  death  in  the  Tower,  by 
order  of  their  uncle,  Richard  III.,  before  that  villain 
seized  upon  the  crown.  The  family  of  Mortimer  for  cen- 
turies held  the  castle,  and,  consequently,  ruled  Hereford- 
shire. The  castle  rises  from  the  point  of  a  headland,  and 
its  foundations  are  ingrafted  into  a  bare  gray  rock.  The 
front  consists  of  square  towers,  with  high  connecting 
walls.  The  castle  is  a  complete  ruin,  and  has  been  for 
centuries ;  large  trees  are  still  growing  in  the  midst  of 


232        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

the  old  pile,  which  give  it  a  picturesque  appearance.  It 
was  here  that  the  exquisite  eifusion  of  the  youthful 
genius  of  Milton  —  The  Masque  of  Comus  —  was  com- 
posed, and  performed  before  His  Majesty  Charles  I.,  in 
1681.  Little  did  the  king  think  that  the  poet  would  one 
day  be  secretary  to  the  man  who  should  put  him  to 
death  and  rule  his  kino;dom.  Althouo;h  a  ruin,  this  fact 
is  enough  to  excite  interest,  and  to  cause  one  to  venerate 
the  old  building,  and  to  do  homage  to  the  memory  of 
the  divine  poet  who  hallowed  it  with  his  immortal 
strains.  From  a  visitor's  book  that  is  kept  at  the  gate- 
house, I  copied  the  following  verses  : 

y    - 

"  Here  Milton  sung  ;  what  needs  a  greater  spell 

To  lure  thee,  stranger,  to  these  far-famed  walls  ? 
Though  chroniclers  of  other  ages  tell 

That  princes  oft -have  graced  fair  Ludlow's  halls. 
Their  honors  glide  along  oblivion's  stream, 

And  o'er  the  wreck  a  tide  of  ruin  drives  ; 
Faint  and  more  faint  the  rays  of  glory  beam 

That  gild  their  course  —  the  bard  alone  survives. 
And,  when  the  rude,  unceasing  shocks  of  Time 

In  one  vast  heap  shall  whelm  this  lofty  pile, 
Still  shall  his  genius,  towering  and  sublime, 

Triumphant  o'er  the  spoils  of  grandeur  smile  ; 
Still  in  these  haunts,  true  to  a  nation's  tongue. 
Echo  shall  love  to  dwell,  and  say.  Here  Milton  sang." 

I  lingered  long  in  the  room  pointed  out  to  me  as  the 
one  in  which  Milton  wrote  his  ^'  Comus."  The  castle  was 
not  only  visited  by  the  author  of  ''Paradise  Lost,"  but 
here,  amidst  the  noise  and   bustle  of  civil  dissensions, 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.      *   233 

Samuel  Butler,  the  satirical  author  of  ^^Hudibras,"  found 
an  asylum.  The  part  of  the  tower  in  which  it  is  said  he 
composed  his  ^^Hudibras"  was  shown  to  us.  In  looking 
over  the  different  apartments,  we  passed  through  a  cell 
with  only  one  small  window  through  which  the  light 
found  its  way.  On  a  stone,  chiselled  with  great  beauty, 
was  a  figure  in  a  weeping  position,  and  underneath  it 
some  one  had  written  with  pencil,  in  a  legible  hand : 

*'  The  Muse,  too,  weeps  ;  in  hallowed  hour 
Here  sacred  Milton  owned  her  power, 
And  woke  to  nobler  song." 

The  weather  was  exceedingly  cold,  and  made  more  so 
by  the  stone  walls  partly  covered  with  snow  and  frost 
around  us ;  and  I  returned  to  the  inn.  It  being  near 
the  time  for  me  to  leave  by  the  coach  for  Hereford,  I 
called  for  my  bill.  The  servant  went  out  of  the  room ; 
but  soon  returned,  and  began  stirring  up  the  fire  with 
the  poker.  I  again  told  him  that  the  coach  would  shortly 
be  up,  and  that  I  wanted  my  bill.  ^^  Yes,  sir,  in  a  mo- 
ment," he  replied,  and  left  in  haste.  Ten  or  fifteen 
minutes  passed  away,  and  the  servant  once  more  came 
in,  walked  to  the  whidow,  pulled  up  the  blinds,  and  then 
went  out.  I  saw  that  something  was  in  the  wind ;  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  they  had  discovered  the  loss  of  the 
sheets.  The  waiter  soon  returned  again,  and,  in  rather 
an  agitated  manner,  said,  ^'Ibeg  your  pardon,  sir,  but 
the  landlady  is  in  the  hall,  and  would  like  to  speak  to 
you."  Out  I  went,  and  found  the  finest  specimen  of  an 
20* 


234        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

English  landlady  that  I  had  seen  for  many  a  day.  There 
she  stood,  nearly  as  thick  as  she  was  high,  with  a  red 
face,  garnished  around  with  curls,  that  seemed  to  say, 
^' I  have  just  been  brushed  and  oiled.''  A  neat  apron 
covered  a  black  alpacca  dress  that  swept  the  ground  with 
modesty,  and  a  bunch  of  keys  hung  at  her  side.  0, 
that  smile  !  such  a  smile  as  none  but  a  woman  who  had 
often  been  before  a  mirror  could  put  on.  However,  I 
had  studied  human  nature  too  successfully  not  to  know 
that  thunder  and  liglitning  were  concealed  under  that 
smile ;  and  I  nerved  myself  up  for  the  occasion.  "  I  am 
sorry  to  have  to  name  it,  sir,"  said  she,  "but  the  sheets 
are  missing  off  your  bed."  "0,  yes,"  I  replied;  "  I  took 
them  off  last  night."  "  Indeed  !  "  exclaimed  she  ;  "  and 
pray  what  have  you  done  with  them ?  "  "I  threw  them 
out  of  the  window,"  said  I.  "  What !  into  the  street?  " 
^^  Yes,  into  the  street,"  I  said.  "  What  did  you  do  that 
for  '?  "  ".They  were  wet ;  and  I  was  afraid  that  if  I  left 
them  in  the  room  they  would  be  put  on  at  night,  and 
give  somebody  else  a  cold."  And  here  I  coughed  with 
all  my  might,  to  remind  her  that  I  had  suffered  from  the 
neo!;lio:ence  of  her  chambermaid.  The  heavino;  of  the 
chest  and  panting  for  breath  which  the  lady  was  expe- 
riencing at  this  juncture  told  me  plainly  that  an  explo- 
sion was  at  hand;  and  the  piercing  glance  of  those 
wicked-looking  black  eyes,  and  the  rapid  changes  that 
came  over  that  never-to-be-forgotten  face,  were  enough  to 
cause  the  most  love-sick  man  in  the  world  to  give  up  all 
ideas  of  matrimony,  and  to  be  contented  with  being  his 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        235 

own  master.  ^'Then,  sir,"  said  the  landlady,  ^^you  will 
have  to  pay  for  the  sheets."  ^'  0,  yes,''  replied  I;  ''I 
will  pay  for  them ;  put  them  in  the  bill,  and  I  will  send 
the  bill  to  The  Ttmes^  and  have  it  published,  and  let 
the  travelling  public  know  how  much  you  charge  for  wet 
sheets! "  and  I  turned  upon  mj  heel  and  walked  into  the 
room. 

A  few  minutes  after,  the  servant  came  in  and  laid 
before  me  the  bill.  I  looked,  but  in  vain,  to  see  how 
much  I  had  been  charged  for  my  hasty  indiscretion  the 
previous  night.  No  mention  was  made  of  the  sheets  ; 
and  I  paid  the  bill  as  it  stood.  The  blowing  of  the  coach- 
man's horn  w^arned  me  that  I  must  get  ready ;  and  I  put 
on  my  top  coat.  As  I  w^as  passing  through  the  ball, 
there  stood  the  landlady  just  where  I  had  left  her,  look- 
ing as  if  she  had  not  stirred  a  single  peg.  And  that 
smile,  that  had  often  cheered  or  carried  consternation  to 
many  a  poor  heart,  was  still  to  be  seen.  I  would  rather 
have  gone  without  my  dinner  than  to  have  looked  her  in 
the  face,  such  is  my  timidity.  But  common  courtesy 
demanded  that  I  should  at  least  nod  as  I  passed  by;  and 
therefore  I  was  thrown  back  upon  my  manners,  and  un- 
consciously found  myself  giving  her  one  of  my  best  bows. 
Whether  this  bow  was  the  result  of  my  early  training 
while  in  slavery,  the  domestic  discipline  that  I  afterwards 
experienced  in  freedom,  or  the  terror  with  which  every 
nerve  was  shaken  on  first  meeting  the  landlady,  I  am 
still  unaware.  However,  the  bow  was  made  and  the  ice 
broken,  and  the  landlady  smilingly  said,  /*  You  do  not 


236  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

know,  sir,  how  much  I  am  grieved  at  your  being  put  to 
so  much  trouble  last  night,  with  those  wet  sheets ;  it  was 
all  the  fault  of  the  chambermaid,  and  I  have  given  her 
warning,  and  shall  dismiss  her  a  month  from  to-day. 
And  I  do  hope,  sir,  that  if  you  should  ever  mention  this 
circumstance  you  will  not  name  the  house  in  which  it 
occurred."  How  could  I  do  otherwise  than  to  acquiesce 
in  her  wishes?  Yes,  I  promised  that  I  would  never 
name  the  inn  at  which  I  had  caught  the  rheumatism; 
and,  therefore,  reader,  you  may  ask  me,  but  in  vain, — I 
will  not  tell  you.  One  more  bow,  and  out  I  went,  and 
mounted  the  coach.  As  the  driver  was  pulling  up  his 
reins,  and  raising  his  whip  in  the  air,  I  turned  to  take  a 
farewell  glance  of  the  inn,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I  be- 
held the  landlady  at  the  door  with  a  white  handkerchief 
in  her  hand,  and  a  countenance  beaming  with  smiles  that 
I  still  see  in  my  mind's  eye.  I  raised  my  hat,  she  nod- 
ded, and  away  went  the  coach.  Although  the  ride  was 
a  cold  and  dreary  one,  I  often  caught  myself  smiling 
over  the  fright  in  which  I  had  put  the  landlady  by 
threatening  to  publish  her  house. 

After  a  fatiguing  stage  twenty  miles  or  more,  over  a 
bad  road,  we  reached  Hereford,  a  small  city,  situated  in 
^  fertile  plain,  bounded  on  all  sides  with  orchards,  and 
watered  by  the  translucent  Wye.  I  spent  the  greater 
part  of  the  next  day  in  seeing  the  lions  of  the  little  city. 
I  first  visited,  what  most  strangers  do,  the  cathedral ;  a 
building  partly  Gothic  and  partly  Saxon  in  its  archi- 
teet^re^  tW  interiQr  of  which  is  handsome,  and  contains 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        237 

an  excellent  organ,  a  piece  of  furniture  that  often  calls 
more  hearers  to  a  place  of  worship  than  the  preacher. 
In  passing  through  the  cathedral  I  stood  a  moment  or 
two  over  the  grave  of  the  poet  Phillips,  the  author  of 
the  ^'Splendid  Shilling,"  ''Cider,"  etc.  While  in  the 
library  the  verger  showed  me  a  manuscript  Bible  of 
WicklifFe's,  the  first  in  use,  written  on  vellum  in  the 
old  black  letter,  full  of  abbreviations.  He  also  pointed 
out  some  Latin  manuscripts,  in  various  parts  beauti- 
fully illuminated  with  most  ingenious  penmanship,  the 
coloring  of  the  figures  very  bright.  After  all,  there  is 
a  degree  of  pleasure  in  handling  these  old  and  laid-aside 
books.  Hereford  is  noted  for  having  been  the  birth- 
place of  several  distinguished  persons.  I  was  shown  the 
house  in  which  David  Garrick  was  born.  From  Here- 
ford he  was  removed  to  Litchfield  and  became  the  pupil 
of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  eventually  both  m.aster  and  pupil 
went  to  London  in  search  of  bread  ;  one  became  famous 
as  an  actor,  the  other  noted  as  surly  Sam  Johnson. 
An  obscure  cottage  in  Pipe-lane  was  pointed  out  as  the 
birthplace  of  the  celebrated  Nell  Gwynne,  Vyho  first  ap- 
peared in  London  in  the  pit  of  Drury-la^ne  Theatre  as  an 
apple-girl,  and  afterwards  became  an  actress,  in  which 
position  she  was  seen  by  King  Charles  H.,  who  took  her 
to  his  bed  and  board,  and  created  her  Duchess  of  St. 
Albans.  However,  she  had  many  crooked  paths  to  tread, 
after  becoming  an  actress,  before  she  captivated  the 
heart  of  the  Merry  Monarch.     The  following  story  of 


238        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

her  life,  told  by  herself,  is  too  good  to  be  lost ;  so  I  insert 
it  here. 

''  When  I  was  a  poor  girl,"  said  the  Duchess  of  St. 
Albans,  '' working  very  hard  for  my  thirty  shillings  a 
week,  I  went  down  to  Liverpool  during  the  holidays, 
w4iere  I  was  always  well  received.  I  was  to  perform  in 
a  new  piece,  something  like  those  pretty  little  affecting- 
dramas  they  get  up  now  at  our  minor  theatres ;  and  in 
my  character  I  represented  a  poor,  friendless  orphan- 
girl,  reduced  to  the  most  wretched  poverty.  A  heartless 
tradesman  prosecutes  the  sad  heroine  for  a  heavy  debt, 
and  insists  on  putting  her  in  prison,  unless  some  one  will 
be  bail  for  her.  The  girl  replies,  ^  Then  I  have  no  hope  ; 
I  have  not  a  friend  in  the  world.'  ^  What !  will  no  one 
be  bail  for  you,  to  save  you  from  going  to  prison  ?  '  asks 
the  stern  creditor.  '  I  have  told  you  I  have  not  a  friend 
on  earth,'  was  the  reply.  But  just  as  I  was  uttering 
the  words,  I  saw  a  sailor  in  the  upper  gallery  springing 
over  the  railing,  letting  himself  down. from  one  tier  to 
another,  until  he  bounded  clear  over  the  orchestra  and 
footlights,  and  placed  himself  beside  me  in  a  moment. 
^  Yes,  you  shall  have  one  friend  at  least,  my  poor  young 
woman,'  said  he,  with  the  greatest  expression  in  his 
honest,  sunburnt  countenance  ;  ^  I  will  go  bail  for  you  to 
any  amount.  And  as  for  you^^  turning  to  the  fright- 
ened actor,  '  if  you  don't  bear  a  hand  and  shift  your 
moorings,  you  lubber,  it  will  be  worse  for  you  when 
I  come  athwart  your  bows  ! '  Every  creature  in  the 
house   rose ;   the   uproar  was   indescribable  —  peals   of 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  239 

laughter,  screams  of  terror,  cheers  from  his  tawny  mess- 
mates in  the  gallery,  preparatory  scrapings  of  violins 
from  the  orchestra ;  and,  amidst  the  universal  din,  there 
stood  the  unconscious  cause  of  it,  sheltering  me,  '  the 
poor,  distressed  young  woman,'  and  breathing  defiance 
and  destruction  against  my  mimic  persecutor.  He  was 
only  persuaded  to  relinquish  his  care  of  me,  by  the  man- 
ager pretending  to  arrive  and  rescue  me,  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  theatrical  bank-notes." 

Hereford  was  also  the  birthplace  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  the 
unequalled  tragic  actress.  The  views  around  Hereford 
are  very  sylvan,  and  from  some  points,  where  the  Welsh 
mountains  are  discernible,  present  something  of  the  mag- 
nificent. All  this  part  of  the  country  still  shows  unmis- 
takable evidence  that  war  has  had  its  day  here.  In  those 
times  the  arts  and  education  received  no  encouragement. 
The  destructive  exploits  of  conquerors  may  dazzle  for  a 
w^hile,  but  the  silent  labors  of  the  student  and  the  artist, 
of  the  architect  and  the  husbandman,  which  embellish 
the  earth,  and  convert  it  into  a  terrestrial  paradise^ 
although  they  do  not  shine  with  so  conspicuous  a  glare, 
diversify  the  picture  with  milder  colors  and  more  beau- 
tiful shades. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

**  To  him  no  autlior  was  unknown, 
Yet  what  he  writ  was  all  his  own  ; 
Horace's  wit,  and  Virgil's  state, 
He  did  not  steal,  but  emulate  ; 
And  when  he  would  like  them  appear. 
Their  form,  but  not  their  clothes,  did  wear." 

Denham. 

If  there  be  an  individual  living  who  has  read  the 
^' Essay  on  Man/'  or  '^  The  Rape  of  the  Lock,"  without 
a  wish  to  become  more  acquainted  with  the  writings  of 
the  gifted  poet  that  penned  those  exquisite  poems,  I  con- 
fess that  such  an  one  is  made  of  different  materials  from 
myself. 

It  is  possible  that  I  am  too  great  a  devotee  to  authors, 
and  especially  poets ;  yet  such  is  my  reverence  for  de- 
parted writers,  that  I  would  rather  walk  five  miles  to  see 
a  poet's  grave  than  to  spend  an  evening  at  the  finest 
entertainment  that  could  be  got  up. 

It  was  on  a  pleasant  afternoon  in  September,  that  I 

had  gone  into  Surrey  to  dine  with  Lord  C ,  that  I 

found  myself  one  of  a  party  of  nine,  and  seated  at  a  table 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.         241 

loaded  with  everything  that  the  heart  could  wish.  Four 
inen-servantSj  in  livery,  with  white  gloves,  waited  upon 
the  company. 

After  the  different  courses  had  been  changed,  the  wine 
occupied  the  most  conspicuous  place  on  the  table,  and  all 
seemed  to  drink  with  a  relish  unappreciated  except  by 
those  who  move  in  the  higher  walks  of  life.  My  glass 
was  the  only  one  on  the  table  in  which  the  juice  of  the 
grape  had  not  been  poured.  It  takes  more  nerve  than 
most  men  possess  to  cause  one  to  decline  taking  a  glass 
of  wine  with  a  lady  ;  and  in  English  society  they  don't 
appear  to  understand  how  human  beings  can  live  and 
enjoy  health  without  taking  at  least  a  little  wine.  By 
my  continued  refusal  to  drink  with  first  one  and  then 
another  of  the  company,  I  had  become  rather  an  object 
of  pity  than  otherwise. 

A  lady  of  the  party,  and  in  company  with  whom  I  had 
dined  on  a  previous  occasion,  and  who  knew  me  to  be  an 
abstainer,  resolved  to  relieve  me  from  the  awkward 
position  in  which  my  principles  had  placed  me,  and 
therefore  caused  a  decanter  of  raspberry  vinegar  to 
be  adulterated  and  brought  on  the  table.  A  note  in 
pencil  from  the  lady  informed  me  of  the  contents  of  the 
new  bottle.  I  am  partial  to  this  kind  of  beverage,  and 
felt  glad  when  it  made  its  appearance.  No  one  of  the 
party,  except  the  lady,  knew  of  the  fraud ;  and  I  was 
able,  during  the  remainder  of  the  time,  to  drink  with  any 
of  the  company.  The  waiters,  as  a  matter  of  course^ 
were  in  the  secret ;  for  they  had  to  make  the  change 
21 


242        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.   ^ 

while  passing  the  wine  from  me  to  the  person  with  whom 
I  drank. 

After  a  while,  as  is  usual,  the  ladies  all  rose  and  left 
the  room.  The  retiring  of  the  fair  sex  left  the  gentle- 
men in  a  more  free-and-easy  position,  and  consequently 
the  topics  of  conversation  were  materially  changed,  but 
not  for  the  better.  The  presence  of  women  is  always  a 
restraint  in  the  right  direction.  An  hour  after  the  ladies 
had  gone,  the  gentlemen  were  requested  to  retire  to  the 
drawing-room,  where  we  found  tea  ready  to  be  served 
up.  I  was  glad  when  the  time  came  to  leave  the  dining- 
room,  for  I  felt  it  a  great  bore  to  be  compelled  to  remain 
at  the  table  three  hours.  Tea  over,  the  wine  again 
brought  on,  and  the  company  took  a  stroll  through  the 
grounds  at  the  back  of  the  villa.  It  was  a  bright  moon- 
light night,  and  the  stars  were  out,  and  the  air  came 
laden  with  the  perfume  of  sweet  flowers,  and  there  were 
no  sounds  to  be  heard,  except  th^  musical  splashing  of 
the  little  cascade  at  the  end  of  the  garden,  and  the  song 
of  the  nightingale,  that  seemed  to  be  in  one  of  the  trees 
near  by.  How  pleasant  everything  looked,  with  the 
flowers  creeping  about  the  summer-house,  and  the  win- 
dows opening  to  the  velvet  lawn,  with  its  modest  front, 
neat  trellis-work,  and  meandering  vine !  The  small  smooth 
fish-pond,  and  the  life-like  statues  standing  or  kneeling 
in  difierent  parts  of  the  grounds,  gave  it  the  appearance 
of  a  very  paradise. 

^^  There,''  said  his  lordship,  ^4s  where  Cowley  used  to 
sit,  under  that  tree,  and  read.'' 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        243 

This  reminded  me  that  I  was  near  Chertsey,  where 
the  poet  spent  his  last  days;  and,  as  I  was  invited  to 
spend  the  night  within  a  short  ride  of  that  place,  I  re- 
solved to  visit  it  the  next  day.  We  returned  to  the 
drawing-room,  and  a  few  moments  after  the  party  sepa- 
rated, at  ten  o'clock. 

After  breakfast  the  following  morning,  I  drove  over  to 
Chertsey,  a  pretty  little  town,  with  but  two  streets  of  any 
note.  In  the  principal  street,  and  not  far  from  the  rail- 
way station,  stands  a  low  building  of  wood  and  plaster, 
known  as  the  Porch  House.  It  was  in  this  cottage  that 
Abraham  Cowley,  the  poet,  resided,  and  died  in  1667,  in 
the  forty-ninth  year  of  his  age.  It  being  the  residence 
of  a  gentleman  who  was  from  home,  I  did  not  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  interior  of  the  building,  which 
I  much  regretted.  Having  visited  Cowley's  house,  I  at 
once  determined  to  do  what  I  had  long  promised  myself;  n 
that  was,  to  see  Pope's  villa,  at  Twickenham;  and  I  re- 
turned to  London,  took  the  Richmond  boat,  and  was  soon 
gliding  up  the  Thames. 

I  have  seldom  had  a  pleasanter  ride  by  water  than 
from  London  Bridge  to  Richmond ;  the  beautiful  pano- 
ramic view  which  unfolds  itself  on  either  side  of  the 
river  can  scarcely  be  surpassed  by  the  scenery  in  any 
country.  In  the  centre  of  Twickenham  stands  the  house 
made  celebrated  from  its  having  been  the  residence  of 
Alexander  Pope.  The  house  is  not  large,  but  occupies  a 
beautiful  site,  and  is  to  be  seen  to  best  advantage  from 
the  river.      The  garden  and  grounds  have  undergone 


244        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD.   ^ 

some  change  since  the  death  of  the  poet.  The  grotto 
leading  from  the  villa  to  the  Thames  is  in  a  sad  con- 
dition. 

The  following  lines,  written  by  Pope  soon  after  finish- 
ing this  idol  of  his  fancy,  show  in  what  estimate  he  held 
itj  and  should  at  least  have  preserved  it  from  decay  : 

*'  Thou  wlio  shalt  stop  wliere  Thames^  translucent  wave 
SMnes  a  broad  mirror  througli  the  shadowy  cave  ; 
Where  lingering  drops  from  mineral  roofs  distill. 
And  pointed  crystals  break  the  sparkling  rill  ; 
Unpolished  gems  no  ray  on  pride  bestow. 
And  latent  metals  innocently  glow  — 
Approach  !     Great  nature  studiously  behold  ! 
And  eye  the  mine  without  a  wish  for  gold. 
Approach — but  awful  !     Lo  !  the  ^gerian  grot. 
Where,  nobly  pensive,  St.  John  sate  and  thought  ; 
Where  British  sighs  from  dying  Wyndham  stole. 
And  the  bright  flame  was  shot  through  Marchmont's  soul. 
Let  such  —  such  only  —  tread  this  sacred  floor, 
Who  dare  to  love  their  country  and  be  poor." 

It  is  strange  that  there  are  some  at  the  present  day 
who  deny  that  Pope  was  a  poet ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
such  either  show  a  want  of  appreciation  of  poetry,  or 
themselves  no  judge  of  what  constitutes  poetry.  Where 
can  be  found  a  finer  efi'usion  than  the  ^^  Essay  on  Man"? 
Johnson,  in  his  admirable  Life  of  Pope,  in  drawing  a 
comparison  between  him  and  Dryden,  says,  ^'If  the 
flights  of  Dryden  are  higher,  Pope  continues  longer  on 
the  wing ;  if  of  Dry  den's  fire  the  blaze  is  brighter,  of 
Pope  is  the  heat  more  regular  and  constant.     Dryden 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABPvOAD.  245 

often  surpasses  expectation,  and  Pope  never  falls  below 
it ;  Dry  den  is  read  with  frequent  astonishment,  and  Pope 
with  perpetual  delight."  In  speaking  of  the  ^'  Kape  of 
the  Lock/'  the  same  great  critic  remarks  that  it  -^  stands 
forward  in  the  classes  of  literature,  as  the  most  exquisite 
example  of  ludicrous  poetry."  Another  poet  and  critic 
of  no  mean  authority  calls  him  '•  The  sweetest  and  most 
elegant  of  English  poets,  the  severest  chastiser  of  vice, 
and  the  most  persuasive  teacher  of  wisdom.-"  Lord 
Byron  terms  him  ^'the  most  perfect  and  harmonious  of 
poets."  How  many  have  quoted  the  following  lines 
without  knowing  that  they  were  Pope's  ! 

"  To  look  tlirough  Nature  up  to  Nature's  God." 
**  An  honest  man  's  the  noblest  work  of  God." 
"  Just  as  the  twig  is  bent,  the  tree  's  inclined," 
"  If  to  her  share  some  female  errors  fall. 

Look  on  her  face,  and  you  '11  forget  them  all." 
"  For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight, 

His  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

Pope  was  certainly  the  most  independent  writer  of  his 
time ;  a  poet  who  never  sold  himself,  and  never  lent  his 
pen  to  the  upholding  of  wrong.  And  although  a  severe 
critic,  the  following  verse  will  show  that  he  did  not  wish 
to  bestow  his  chastisement  in  a  wrong  direction : 

''  Curst  be  the  verse,  how  well  soe'er  it  flow, 
That  tends  to  make  one  honest  man  my  foe, 
Give  Virtue  scandal.  Innocence  a  fear. 
Or  from  the  soft-eyed  virgin  steal  a  tear  !  " 

21^ 


246        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

No  poet's  pen  was  ever  more  thoroughly  used  to  sup- 
press vice  than  Pope's;  and  what  he  did  was  done  con- 
scientiously, as  the  following  lines  will  show  : 

**  Ask  yon  what  provocation  I  liaye  had  ? 
The  strong  antipathy  of  good  to  bad. 
When  Truth  or  Virtue  an  affront  endures, 
The  affront  is  mine,  my  friend,  and  should  be  yours.'* 

Pope  is  not  only  a  poet  of  a  high  order,  but  as  yet  he 
is  the  unsurpassed  translator  of  Homer. 

My  visit  to  Pope's  villa  wa^  a  short  one,  but  it  was 
attended  with  many  pleasing  incidents.  I  have  derived 
much  pleasure  from  reading  his  Iliad  and  other  transla- 
tions. The  verse  from  the  pen  of  Lord  Denham,  that 
heads  this  chapter,  conveys  but  a  faint  idea  of  my  esti- 
mate of  Pope's  genius  and  talents. 


CHAPTEE    XXIV. 

**  This  modest  stone,  what  few  vain  marbles  can, 
May  truly  say,  here  lies  an  honest  man  : 
A  poet,  blest  beyond  the  poet's  fate, 
Whom  heaven  kept  sacred  from  the  prond  and  great." 

Pope. 

While  on  a  recent  visit  to  Dumfries,  I  lodged  in  the 
same  house  with  Robert  Burns,  the  eldest  son  of  the 
Scottish  bard,  who  is  now  about  sixty-five  years  old.  I  also 
visited  the  grave  of  the  poet,  which  is  in  the  church-yard 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  town.  A  few  days  afterwards  I 
arrived  at  Ayr,  and  being  within  three  miles  of  the  birth- 
place of  Burns,  and  having  so  lately  stood  over  his  grave, 
I  felt  no  little  interest  in  seeing  the  cottage  in  which  he 
was  born,  and  the  monument  erected  to  his  memory ;  and 
therefore,  after  inquiring  the  road,  I  started  on  my  pil- 
grimage. In  going  up  the  High  Street,  we  passed  the 
Wallace  Towner,  a  Gothic  building,  with  a  statue  of  the 
renowned  chief,  cut  by  Thorn,  the  famed  sculptor  of 
^'Tam  O'Shanter  and  Souter  Johnny,"  occupying  the 
highest  niche.  The  Scottish  hero  is  represented  not  in 
warlike  attitude,  but  in  a  thoughtful  mood,  as  if  musing 
over  the  wrongs  of  his  country.     We  were  soon  out  of 


248  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

the  town,  and  on  the  high  road  to  the  ^'  Land  of  Burns.*' 
On  the  west  side  of  the  road,  and  about  two  miles  from 
Ayr,  stands  the  cottage  in  which  the  poet  was  born ;  it 
is  now  used  as  an  ale-house  or  inn.  This  cottage  was 
no  doubt  the  fancied  scene  of  that  splendid  poem,  '^  The 
Cottar's  Saturday  Night."  A  little  further  on,  and  we 
were  near  the  old  kirk,  in  the  yard  of  which  is  the  grave 
of  Burns'  father,  marked  by  a  plain  tombstone,  on  which 
is  engraved  the  following  epitaph,  from  the  pen  of  the 
poet : 

*'  0  ye  whose  clieek  the  tear  of  pity  stains, 

Draw  near  with  pious  reverence  and  attend  : 
Here  lie  the  loTing  husband's  dear  remains, 

The  tender  father,  and  the  generous  friend. 
The  pitying  heart  that  felt  for  human  woe. 

The  dauntless  heart  that  feared  no  human  pride, 
The  friend  of  man  —  to  rice  alone  a  foe  ; 
*  For  e'en  his  failings  leant  to  Virtue's  side.'  " 

A  short  distance  beyond  the  church,  we  caught  a  sight 
of  the  '•  Auld  Brig  '*  crossing  the  Boon's  classic  stream, 
along  which  Tam  O'Shanter  was  pursued  by  the  witches, 
his  '•  Gray  Mare  Meg"  losing  her  tail  in  the  struggle 
on  the  keystone.  On  the  banks  of  the  Boon  stands  the 
beautiful  monument,  surrounded  by  a  little  plat  of 
ground  very  tastefully  laid  out.  The  edifice  is  of  the 
composite  order,  blending  the  finest  models  of  Grecian 
and  Roman  architecture.  It  is  about  sixty  feet  high  ;  on 
the  ground  floor  there  is  a  circular  room  lighted  by  a 
cupola  of  stained  glass,  in  the  centre  of  which  stands  a 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        249 

table  with  relics,  and  editions  of  Burns'  writings. 
Amongst  these  relics  is  the  Bible  given  by  the  poet  to 
his  Highland  Mary.  It  is  bound  in  two  volumes,  which 
are  enclosed  in  a  neat  oaken  box  with  a  glass  lid.  In 
both  volumes  is  written  ^^  Robert  Burns,  Mossgiel,"  in 
the  bard's  own  hand- writing.  In  the  same  room  are  the 
original  far-famed  figures  of  ^^  Tarn  O'Shanter  and 
Souter  Johnny,"  chiselled  out  of  solid  blocks  of  free- 
stone, by  the  self-taught  sculptor,  Thorn.  No  one  can 
look  at  these  statues  without  feeling  that  the  poet  has 
not  more  graphically  described  than  the  sculptor  has 
delineated  the  jolly  couple.  Immediately  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  stands  the  Shell  Palace.  This  most  beauti- 
ful of  little  edifices  is  scarcely  less  to  be  admired  than 
the  monument  itself. 

Like  its  great  prototype,  the  Shell  Palace,  to  be  judged 
of,  must  be  seen.  It  is  not  easy  to  describe  even  this 
miniature.  Lying  in  the  heart  of  the  Monument  scenery, 
it  forms  a  fitting  spot  for  something  dazzlingly  beauti- 
ful ;  and  it  realizes  the  aspiration.  It  is  a  palace  of 
which  rare  and  beautiful  shells,  gathered  in  many  climes, 
form  the  entire  surface,  internal  and  external.  The 
erection  is  twenty  feet  long,  by  fourteen  and  a  half  feet 
broad,  and  fourteen  feet  high  in  the  roof.  It  is  in  form 
an  irregular  or  oblong  octagon  —  the  two  sides  long,  and 
the  three  sections  at  each  end,  of  course,  narrow,  thus 
giving,  by  the  cross  reflections  of  no  iewer  than  nine- 
teen mirrors,  an  infinite  multiplicity  of  its  internal 
treasures.      Of  these  the  shells  are  the  leading  feature, 


250  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABBOAD. 

and  many  thousands  of  the  rarest  sorts  go  to  make 
up  this  conchological  wonder.  The  floor  is  covered 
with  a  very  rich  carpet,  and  rugs  to  match  front  two 
unique  dwarf  grates.  The  seats,  set  on  imitatipn  granite 
props,  are  covered  with  rich  crimson  velvet.  Opposite 
the  stained-glass  entrance-door,  in  a  recess,  is  a  beau- 
tiful fountain,  surrounded  by  large  ornamental  shells, 
playing  from  a  delightful  spring,  the  jet  rising  from  a 
rich  green  vase,  in  tasteful  contrast  with  the  '  ^  winking 
gold-fish,"  now  sporting  and  now  lazily  floating  round  its 
base.  The  side  walls  are  inlaid  in  the  most  regular  and 
artistic  manner  with  shells,  which  vary  in  size,  the  roof 
being  studded  with  large  ornamental  shells,  the  upward 
unseen  points  of  which,  being  bored,  act  as  ventilators, 
while  in  the  centre  of  the  roof  some  of  the  very  choicest 
middle-sized  shells  are  grouped  together  in  the  form  of 
flowers,  with  a  very  rich  and  beautiful  effect,  seldom  at- 
tained in  the  choicest  bouquets.  With  so  much,  of  the 
beautiful  so  very  attractively  arranged,  the  mirrors  work 
wonders.  The  large  mirrors  at  either  end  show  a  line 
of  table  as  far  as  the  eye  can  carry,  and  multiply  the 
visitors  accordingly  —  green  vases  and  golden  fish  pre- 
senting themselves  anew  at  every  turn.  The  Doon  ran 
silently  past  as  we  entered;  but  here  it  meanders  round 
us  on  every  side,  and  our  fairy  palace  seems  the  centre 
of  some  enchanted  island.  It  is,  indeed,  a  beautiful 
grotto,  and  all  who  have  not  seen  it  will,  we  dare  say, 
on  visiting  it,  not  begrudge  it  the  title  of  the  ^^  Shell 
Palace." 


PLACES  AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD.  251 

We  next  visited  Newark  Castle,  about  a  mile  from  the 
monument.  It  is  remarkable  for  its  antiquity,  and  for 
the  splendid  vieAV  obtained  from  the  balcony  on  its  sum- 
mit. While  standing  on  this  celebrated  spot,  we  saw  at 
one  glance  the  Frith  of  Clyde  and  Bay  of  Ayr;  in 
the  immediate  foreground  the  cradle-land  of  Burns,  and 
the  winding  Doon ;  and  in  the  distance  the  eye  wanders 
over  a  vast  tract  of  richly- wooded  country,  embracing  a 
panoramic  view  of  portions  of  at  least  seven  counties, 
and  the  much-admired  and  celebrated  rock,  Ailsacraig, 
While  in  the  neighborhood,  we  could  not  forego  the 
temptation  which  presented  itself  of  visiting  the  scene  of 
Burns'  tender  parting  with  Mary  Campbell.  It  is  near 
the  junction  of  the  water  of  Fail  with  the  river  Ayr, 
where  the  poet  met  his  Mary  on  a  Sunday  in  the  month 
of  May,  and,  laying  their  hands  in  the  stream,  vowed, 
over  Mary's  Bible,  love  while  the  woods  of  Montgomery 
grew  and  its  waters  ran.  The  death  of  the  girl  before 
the  appointed  time  of  marriage  caused  the  composition  of 
the  following  poem,  one  of  Burns'  sweetest  pieces. 

HIGHLAND  MARY. 

**  Ye  banks,  and  braes,  and  streams  around 

The  castle  o'  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  woods,  and  fair  your  flowers, 

Your  waters  never  drumlie  ! 
There  Simmer  first  unfaulds  her  robes, 

And  there  they  langest  tarry  ; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fareweel 

0'  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 


252       PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

*  How  sweetly  bloomed  tlie  gay  green  birk. 

How  rich  the  hawthorn's  blossom. 
As  underneath  their  fragrant  shade 

I  clasped  her  to  my  bosom  ! 
The  golden  hours,  on  angel  wings, 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie  : 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life 

Was  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

<«  Wi'  mony  a  yow,  and  locked  embrace, 

Our  parting  was  fu'  tender  ; 
And,  pledging  aft  to  meet  again. 

We  tore  oursels  asunder  ; 
But,  0  !  fell  Death's  untimely  frost. 

That  nipt  my  flower  sae  early  ! 
Now  green 's  the  sod,  and  cauld  's  the  clay. 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary  ! 

"  0  pale,  pale  now,  those  rosy  lips, 

I  aft  hae  kissed  sae  fondly  ! 
And  closed  for  aye  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwalt  on  me  sae  kindly  ! 
And  mouldering  now  in  silent  dust 

That  heart  that  lo'ed  me  dearly  ! 
But  still  within  my  bosom's  core 

Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary." 

It  was  indeed  pleasant  to  walk  over  the  ground  once 
pressed  by  the  feet  of  the  Scottish  bard,  and  to  look 
upon  the  scenes  that  inspired  his  youthful  breast,  and 
gave  animation  to  that  blaze  of  genius  that  burst  upon 
the  world.  The  classic  Doon,  the  ruins  of  the  old  kirk 
AUoway,  the  cottage  in  which  the  poet  first  drew  breath, 
and  other  places  made  celebrated  by  his  pen,  all  filled  us 
with  .a  degree  of  enthusiasm  we  h^ve  seldom  experienced. 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        253 

In  every  region  where  the  English  language  is  known 
the  songs  of  Burns  give  rapture ;  and  from  every  land, 
and  from  climes  the  most  remote,  comes  the  praise  of 
Burns  as  a  poet.  In  song- writing  he  surpassed  Sir 
Walter  Scott  and  Lord  Byron ;  for  in  that  department 
he  was  above  ^-all  Greek,  above  all  Eomanfame;"  a 
more  than  Simonides  in  pathos,  as  in  his  ^^  Highland 
Mary ;  "  a  more  than  Tyrtaeus  in  fire,  as  in  his  '^  Scots 
wha  ha'e  wi'  Wallace  bled ;  "  and  a  softer  than  Sappho 
in  love,  as  in  his  — 

"  Had  we  never  loved  so  kindly, 
Had  we  never  loved  so  blindly. 
Never  met  or  never  parted, 
We  had  ne'er  been  broken-hearted.*' 

22 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

'*  If  thou  art  worn  and  hard  beset 
With  sorrows,  that  thou  wouldst  forget  ; 
If  thou  wouldst  read  a  lesson,  that  would  keep 
Thy  heart  from  fainting  and  thy  soul  from  sleep,  — 
Go  to  the  Colosseum."  Longfellow. 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  May,  when  London  is  usually 
inundated  with  strangers  from  the  country,  who  come  up 
to  attend  the  anniyersaries,  that  a  party  of  friends  called 
on  me  with  a  request  that  I  would  accompany  them  to 
some  of  the  lions  of  the  metropolis.  We  started  for 
the  Thames  Tunnel,  one  of  the  wonders  of  London.  The 
idea  of  making  a  thoroughfare  under  the  largest  river  in 
England  was  a  project  that  could  scarcely  have  been 
carried  out  by  any  except  a  most  enterprising  people. 
We  faintly  heard  the  clock  on  St.  Paul's  striking  eleven, 
as  the  Woolwich  boat  put  us  down  at  the  Tunnel ;  which 
we  entered,  after  paying  the  admission  fee  of  one  penny. 
After  descending  one  hundred  steps,  we  found  ourselves 
under  the  river,  and  looking  towards  the  faint  glimmer 
of  light  that  showed  itself  on  the  Surrey  side.  There 
are  two  arches,  one  of  which  is  closed  up,  with  here  and 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        255 

there  a  stall,  loaded  with  old  maps,  books,  and  views  of 
the  Tunnel.  Lamps,  some  six  or  eight  yards  apart, 
light  up  the  otherwise  dark  and  dismal  place.  Signs  of 
frequent  repairs  show  that  they  must  ever  be  on  the 
watch  to  keep  the  water  out.  An  hour  spent  in  the 
Tunnel  satisfied  us  all,  and  we  left  in  the  direction  of  the 
Tower,  a  description  of  which  will  be  found  in  another 
chapter.  Some  of  our  party  seemed  bent  on  going  next 
to  the  Colosseum,  and  to  the  Colosseum  we  went.  On 
arriving  at  the  doors,  and  entering  a  long,  capacious  pas- 
sage, our  eyes  became  quite  dazzled  by  the  gleams  of 
colored  light  which  shone  upon  them,  both  directly  and 
reflectedly.  The  efiect  was  heightened  by  the  beautiful 
designs  which  figured  on  the  walls,  and  by  the  graceful 
forms  of  the  many  statues  which  lined  the  path.  In  fact, 
the  strength  of  the  sense  of  sight  became  much  greater, 
because  the  ear,  which,  all  the  day  before,  had  listened  to 
the  busy  hum  of  bustle  and  activity,  now  ceased  to  hear 
aught  but  a  silent  whisper  or  a  wondering  ^'  0,'^  —  no 
echo  had  even  the  foot-fall  from  the  luxuriant  softness  of 
the  carpeting. 

Following  up  this  fairy  viaduct,  we  merged  into  a  spa- 
cious circularly-formed  apartment,  on  the  downy  couches 
of  which  reclined  many  an  enraptured  group;  while 
nimble  fingers  and  enticing  lips  caused  sweet  harmonious 
strains  to  chase  each  other  from  niche  to  niche,  and 
among  marbled  figures  within  that  charming  temple. 

Ascending  a  narrow  flight  of  stairs,  we  landed  on  a 
balcony,  from  which  we  viewed  the  principal  spectacle 


256        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

exhibited  —  and,  0,  it  -was  a  grand  one  !  We  found  our- 
selves, as  it  were,  upon  the  summit  of  some  high  building 
in  the  centre  of  the  French  metropolis,  and  there,  all 
brilliant  with  gas-lights,  and  favored  by  tlie  shining 
moon,  Paris  lay  spread  far  out  beneath  us,  though  the 
canvas  on  which  the  scene  was  painted  was  but  half  a 
dozen  feet  from  where  we  gazed  in  wonder.  The  moon 
herself  seemed  actually  in  the  heavens.  Nay,  bets  were 
laid  that  she  had  risen  since  we  entered.  Nothing  can 
surpass  the  uniformity  of  appearance  which  every  spire, 
and  house,  and  wood,  and  river  —  yea,  which  every 
shop-window,  ornamented,  presented.  All  seemed  natural, 
from  the  twinkling  of  the  stars  above  us,  to  the  monkey 
of  the  organ-man  in  the  market-place  below.  Reader,  if 
ever  thou  hast  occasion  to  go  to  London,  leave  it  not  till 
thou  hast  seen  the  Colosseum. 

Mustering  our  forces  to  return  together,  the  cry  was 
raised  ^'A  man  a- wanting  !  "  It  seems  there  is  an  appa- 
ratus constructed  in  an  apartment  leading  from  the 
balcony,  by  which  parties  may,  with  a  great  degree  of 
suddenness,  be  raised  or  lowered  from  or  to  the  music- 
room.  Our  friend,  at  all  times  anxious  to  make  the 
most  of  a  shilling,  followed  some  parties  into  the  ^^ascen- 
sion-room," as  it  is  called,  and  took  his  seat  beside 
them,  expecting  that  on  the  withdrawal  of  a  curtain 
he  should  witness  something  which  his  companions 
would  miss.  A  bell  sounded,  and  suddenly  our  expect- 
ant found  himself  some  twenty  feet  lower,  and  obliged 
to  follow  the  example  of  his  co-descendants  still  further, 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        257 

by  furnishing  the  attendant  with  such  a  gratuity  as  be- 
came an  imitator  of  the  Queen  Elizabeth. 

To  another,  but  extremely  difiFerentj  of  nature's  imita- 
tions, we  now  turned  our  steps.  After  traversing  one  or 
two  passages,  the  lights  of  which  became  more  dim  as  we 
advanced,  we  reached  a  cavern's  mouth.  Here  our  prog- 
ress was  arrested  by  an  iron  grating.  Our  inquisitive 
friend,  however,  soon  discovered  that  this  obstacle  could 
be  removed, —  it  being,  in  fact,  similar  to  those  revolving 
barriers  (we  forget  the  name  given  in  the  'Hrade") 
placed  at  the  entrance  to  the  Great  Exhibition.  Like 
them,  too,  they  checked  all  egress,  and,  to  the  further 
astonishment  of  the  man  of  prying  propensity,  we  were 
soon  called  upon  for  so  many  extra  sixpences,  indicated 
by  this  tell-tale  gateway  as  being  the  number  of  persons 
who  had  entered  since  the  keeper  left. 

The  damp  and  dripping  stones,  with  their  coat  of  foggy 
green, —  the  exclusion  of  every  sound  from  without, — 
the  stunted  measure  of  our  speech, —  the  sharp  clank  of 
our  footsteps, —  and  the  frowning  gloom  of  every  corner 
of  this  retreat,  soon  gave  evidence  of  the  excellence  of 
the  design  and  entire  structure,  in  the  impression  which 
it  raised  that,  in  reality,  we  were  in  some  secluded  ren- 
dezvous of  smugglers,  or  of  outlaws.  Tea,  the  question 
was  put  by  one  who  had  seldom  crossed  the  Cree,  Was 
Meg  Merrilies'  one  like  this  ?  while  a  party  who  had 
explored  Ben  Lomond  and  its  neighborhood  was  asked 
if  from  it  there  could  not  be  formed  some  notion  of  that 
which  bears  the  name  of  the  chief,  Rob  Roy. 
22^ 


258        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD. 

Relieved  alike  from  depressing  atmosphere  and  cloudy 
thoughts,  we  retired  to  a  projecting  window,  from  which 
to  view  the  ^^  Swiss  cottage,''  as  it  is  called.  Upon  the 
verge  of  a  tremendous  precipice  is  seen  a  lonely,  cot.  All 
communication  with  it  is  cut  off,  save  by  the  rugged  trunk 
of  a  withered  tree  which  spans  an  opposite  projection. 
Under  this. unstable  bridge  gush  torrents  of  foaming  water, 
lashed  down  from  the  heights  beyond.  Yet  morn  and 
eve  does  an  industrious  peasant  leave  and  return  to  his 
romantic  home  across  this  dangerous  way.  See  now,  as 
he  returns  from  his  toil,  he  paces  cautiously  along  ;  and 
yonder,  at  the  further  end,  stand  wife  and  little  ones 
waiting  to  greet  him  when  he  crosses.  0  !  happy  man, 
to  live  where  thus  thou  'rt  called  to  venture  much  and 
oft  for  those  thou  lovest,  and  be  as  oft  rewarded  by  re- 
newed tokens  of  their  affection  and  most  tender  attach- 
ment! 

Through  openings  in  the  walls  w^e  witnessed,  also,  the 
representation  of  mines  and  manufactures  in  full  opera- 
tion; and  then,  as  we  withdrew,  we ,  passed  through 
artificial  walks  adorned  with  every  kind  of  fantastical 
structure,  and  at  some  points  of  which,  from  the  position 
of  reflecting-glasses,  we  viewed  in  them  hundreds  of  the 
very  objects  of  which  we  could,  with  the  unaided  eye,  see 
but  one. 

*'  Passing  we  looked,  and,  looking,  grieved  to  pass 
From  the  fair  (?)  figures  smiling  in  the  glass." 


.     CHAPTER    XXVI. 

'*  The  treasures  of  the  deep  are  not  so  precious 
As  are  the  concealed  comforts  of  a  man 
Locked  up  in  woman's  love.     I  scent  the  air 
Of  blessings,  when  I  come  but  near  the  house. 
What  a  delicious  breath  marriage  sends  forth  !  .  .  . 
The  violet  bed 's  not  sweeter." 

MiDDLETON. 

DuRiNa  a  sojourn  of  five  years  in  Europe,  I  have 
spent  many  pleasant  hours  in  stroiling  through  old 
church-yards,  and  reading  the  epitaphs  upon  the  tomb- 
stones of  the  dead.  Part  of  the  pleasure  was  derived 
from  a  wish  for  solitude ;  and  no  place  offers  as  quiet 
walks  as  a  village  burial-ground.  And  the  curious  epi- 
taphs that  are  to  be  seen  in  a  church-yard  six  or  eight 
hundred  years  old  are  enough  to  cause  a  smile,  even  in 
so  solemn  a  place  as  a  grave-yard.  While  walking 
through  Horsleydown  church,  in  Cumberland,  a  short 
time  since,  I  read  an  inscription  over  a  tomb  which  I 
copied,  and  shall  give  in  this  chapter,  although  at  the 
risk  of  bringing  down  upon  my  devoted  head  the  indig- 
nation of  the  fair  sex.  Domestic  enjoyment  is  often 
blasted  by  an  intermixture  of  foibles  with  virtues  of  a 


260        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

superior  kind ;  and  if  the  following  shall  prove  a  warn- 
ing to  wives,  I  shall  be  fully  compensated  for  my  trouble. 

Here  lie  the  bodies  of 

Thomas  Bond,  and  Mary  his  wife. 

She  was  temperate,  chaste  and  charitable  ; 

But 

She  was  proud,  peevish  and  passionate. 

She  was  an  aifectionate  wife  and  a  tender  mother  ; 

But 

Her  husband  and  child,  whom  she  loved,  seldom  saw  her 

countenance  without  a  disgusting  frown, 

Whilst  she  received  visitors,  whom  she  despised,  with  an 

endearing  smile. 

Her  behavior  was  discreet  toward  strangers  ; 

But 

imprudent  in  her  family. 

Abroad,  her  conduct  was  influenced  by  good-breeding  ; 

But 

%t  home,  by  ill-temper. 

She  was  a  professed  enemy  to  flattery,  and  was 

Seldom  known  to  praise  or  commend  ; 

But 

the  talents  in  which  she  principally  excelled  were 

difierence  of  opinion,  and  discovering 

flaws  and  imperfections. 

She  was  an  admirable  economist, 

and,  without  prodigality, 

dispensed  plenty  to  every  person  in  her  family  ; 

But 

would  sacrifice  their  eyes  to  a  farthing  candle. 

She  sometimes  made  her  husband  happy  with  her  good  qualities  ; 

But 

Much  more  frequently  miserable  with  her  many  failings  ; 

Insomuch,  that,  in  thirty  years'  cohabitation,  he  often 

lamented  that,  maugre  her  virtues, 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        261 

He  had  not,  in  the  whole,  enjoyed  two  years 

of  matrimonial  comfort. 

At  length, 

finding  that  she  had  lost  the  affections  of  her 

husband,  as  well  as  the  regard  of  her  neighbors,  family 

disputes  having  been  divulged  by  servants, 

She  died  of  vexation,  July  20,  1768, 

Aged  48  years. 

Her  worn-out  husband  survived  her  four  months 

and  two  days,  and  departed  this  life  November  28, 1768, 

in  the  64th  year  of  his  age. 

William  Bond,  brother  to  the  deceased,  erected 

this  stone, 

a  weekly  monitor  to  the  surviving  wives  of  this 

parish,  that  they  may  avoid  the  infamy 

of  having  their  memories  handed  down  to  posterity 

with  a  patch-work  character. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

"  To  where  the  broken  landscape,  by  degrees 
Ascending,  roughens  into  rigid  hills  ; 
O'er  which  the  Cambrian  mountains,  like  far  clouds 
That  skirt  the  blue  horizon,  dusky  rise."^ 

Thomson. 

I  HAVE  visited  few  places'  where  I  found  warmer 
friends,  or  felt  myself  more  at  home,  than  in  Aberdeen. 
The  dwellings,  being  built  mostly  of  granite,  remind 
one  of  Boston,  especially  in  a  walk  down  Union-street, 
which  is  thought  to  be  one  of  the  finest  promenades  in 
Europe.  The  town  is  situated  on  a  neck  of  land  be- 
tween the  rivers  Dee  and  Don,  and  is  the  most  important 
commercial  place  in  the  north  of  Scotland. 

During  our  stay  in  the  city  we  visited,  among  other 
places,  the  old  bridge  of  Don,  which  is  not  only  resorted 
to  owing  to  its  antique  celebrity  and  peculiar  appear- 
ance, but  also  for  the  notoriety  that  it  has  gained  by  Lord 
Byron's  poem  for  the  ^'  Bridge  of  Don.''  His  lordship 
spent  several  years  here  during  his  minority,  and  this 
old  bridge  was  a  favorite  resort  of  his.  In  one  of  his 
notes  he  alludes  to  how  he  used  to  hang  over  its  one 
archj  and  the  deep  black  salmon  stream  beloWj  with  a 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.    ^    2Qt 

mixture  of  childish  terror  and  delight.  While  we  stood 
upon  the  melancholy  bridge,  and  although  the  scene 
around  was  severely  grand  and  terrific, —  the  river  swol- 
len, the  wind  howling  amongst  the  leafless  trees,  the  sea 
in  the  distance, —  and  although  the  walk  where  Hall  and 
Mackintosh  were  wont  to  melt  down  hours  to  moments  in 
high  converse  was  in  sight,  it  was,  somehow  or  other, 
the  figure  of  the  mild  lame  boy  leaning  over  the  parapet 
that  filled  our  fancy ;  and  the  chief  fascination  of  the 
spot  seemed  to  breathe  from  the  genius  of  the  author  of 
•'^  Childe  Harold." 

To  Anthony  Cruikshank,  Esq.,  whose  hospitality  we 
shared  in  Aberdeen,  we  are  indebted  for  showing  us  the 
different  places  of  interest  in  the  town  and  vicinity.  An 
engagement,  however,  to  be  in  Edinburgh,  cut  short  our 
stay  in  the  north.  The  very  mild  state  of  the  weather, 
and  a  wish  to  see  something  of  the  coast  between  Aber- 
deen and  Edinburgh,  induced  us  to  make  the  journey  by 
water.  Consequently,  after  delivering  a  lecture  before 
the  Mechanics'  Institute,  with  His  Honor  the  Provost  in 
the  chair,  on  the  evening  of  February  15th,  we  went  on 
board  the  steamer  bound  for  Edinburgh.  On  reaching 
the  vessel  we  found  the  drawing-saloon  almost  entirely 
at  our  service,  and,  prejudice  against  color  being  un- 
known, we  had  no  difiiculty  in  obtaining  the  best  accom- 
modation that  the  steamer  afibrded.  This  was  so  unlike 
the  pro-slavery,  negro-hating  spirit  of  America,  that  my 
colored  friends  who  were  with  me  were  almost  bewildered 
by  the  transition.     The  night  was  a  glorious  one.     The 


264        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

sky  was  cloudlesSj  and  the  clear,  bracing  air  had  a  buoy- 
ancy I  have  seldom  seen.  The  moon  was  in  its  zenith  ; 
the  steamer  and  surrounding  objects  were  beautiful  in  the 
extreme.  The  boat  left  her  moorings  at  half-past  twelve, 
and  we  were  soon  out  at  sea.  The  ''  Queen  "  is  a  splen- 
did craft,  and,  without  the  aid  of  sails,  was  able  to  make 
fifteen  miles  within  the  hour.  I  was  up  the  next  morn- 
ing extremely  early, —  indeed,  before  any  of  my  fellow- 
passengers, — and  found  the  sea,  as  on  the  previous  night, 
as  calm  and  as  smooth  as  a  mirror. 

"  There  was  no  sound  upon  the  deep, 

The  breeze  lay  cradled  there  ; 
The  motionless  waters  sank  to  sleep 

Beneath  the  sultry  air  ; 
Out  of  the  cooling  brine  to  leap 

The  dolphin  scarce  would  dare." 

It  was  a  delightful  morning,  more  like  April  than 
February ;  and  the  sun,  as  it  rose,  seemed  to  fire  every 
peak  of  the  surrounding  hills.  On  our  left  lay  the 
Island  of  May,  while  to  the  right  was  to  be  seen  the 
small  fishing-town  of  Anstruther,  twenty  miles  distant 
from  Edinburgh.  Beyond  these,  on  either  side,  was  a 
range  of  undulating  blue  mountains,  swelling,  as  they 
retired,  into  a  bolder  outline  and  a  loftier  altitude,  until 
they  terminated  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  in  the 
dim  distance.  A  friend  at  my  side  pointed  out  a  place 
on  the  right,  where  the  remains  of  an  old  castle  or  look- 
out house,  used  in  the  time  of  the  border  wars,  once 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD.        265 

stood,  and  which  reminded  us  of  the  barbarism  of  the 
past. 

But  these  signs  are  fast  disappearing.  The  plough 
and  roller  have  passed  over  many  of  these  foundations, 
and  the  time  will  soon  come  when  the  antiquarian  will 
look  in  vain  for  those  places  that  history  has  pointed  out 
to  him  as  connected  with  the  political  and  religious 
struggles  of  the  past.  The  steward  of  the  vessel  came 
round  to  see  who  of  the  passengers  wished  for  breakfast ; 
and  as  the  keen  air  of  the  morning  had  given  me  an  ap- 
petite, and  there  being  no  prejudice  on  the  score  of  color, 
I  took  my  seat  at  the  table,  and  gave  ample  evidence 
that  I  was  not  an  invalid.  On  our  return  to  the  deck 
again,  I  found  that  we  had  entered  the  Frith  of  Forth,  and 
that  '' Modern  Athens"  was  in  sight;  and  far  above 
every  other  object,  with  its  turrets  almost  lost  in  the 
clouds,  could  be  seen  Edinburgh  Castle. 

After  landing,  and  a  pleasant  ride  over  one  of  the 
finest  roads  in  Scotland,  with  a  sprinkling  of  beautiful 
villas  on  either  side,  we  were  once  more  at  Cannon's 
Hotel.  While  in  the  city,  on  this  occasion,  we  w^ent  on 
the  Calton  Hill,  from  which  we  had  a  delightful  view  of 
the  place  and  surrounding  country. 

I  had  an  opportunity,  during  my  stay  in  Edinburgh, 
of  visiting  the  Infirmary  ;  and  was  pleased  to  see  among 
the  two  or  three  hundred  students  three  colored  young 
men,  seated  upon  the  same  benches  with  those  of  a 
fairer  complexion,  and  yet  there  appeared  no  feeling  on 
the  part  of  the  whites  towards  their  colored  associates, 
23 


266        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

except  of  companionship  and  respect.  One  of  the  cardi- 
nal truths,  both  of  religion  and  freedonij  is  the  equality 
and  brotherhood  of  man.  In  the  sight  of  God  and  all 
just  institutions,  the  whites  can  claim  no  precedence  or 
privilege  on  account  of  their  being  white ;  and  if  colored 
men  are  not  treated  as  they  should  be  in  the  educational 
institutions  in  America,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  know  that  all 
distinction  ceases  by  crossing  the  broad  Atlantic.  I  had 
scarcely  left  the  lecture-room  of  the  Institute  and  reached 
the  street,  when  I  met  a  large  number  of  the  students  on 
their  way  to  the  college,  and  here  again  were  seen  col- 
ored men  arm  in  arm  with  whites.  The  proud  American 
who  finds  himself  in  the  splendid  streets  of  Edinburgh, 
and  witnesses  such  scenes  as  these,  can  but  behold  in 
them  the  degradation  of  his  own  country,  whose  laws 
would  make  slaves  of  these  same  young  men,  should  they 
appear  in  the  streets  of  Charleston  or  New  Orleans. 

During  my  stay  in  Edinburgh  I  accepted  an  invita- 
tion to  breakfast  with  George  Combe,  Esq.,  the  distin- 
guished philosophical  phrenologist,  and  author  of  '^The 
Constitution  of  Man."  Although  not  far  from  seventy 
years  of  age,  I  found  him  apparently  as  active  and  as 
energetic  as  many  men  of  half  that  number  of  years. 
Mr.  Combe  feels  a  deep  interest  in  the  cause  of  the 
American  slave.  I  have  since  become  more  intimately 
acquainted  with  him,  and  am  proud  to  reckon  him 
amongst  the  warmest  of  my  friends.  In  all  of  Mr. 
Combe's  philanthropic  exertions  he  is  ably  seconded  by 
his  wife,  a  lady  of  rare  endowments^  of  an  attractive  per- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        267 

son  and  engaging  manners,  and  whose  greatest  delight  is 
in  doing  good.  She  took  much  interest  in  Ellen  Craft, 
Avho  formed  one  of  the  breakfast  party ;  and  was  often 
moved  to  tears  on  the  recital  of  the  thrilling  narrative  of 
her  escape  from  slavery. 


CHxlPTER    XXVIII. 

**  Look  here,  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this." 

Hamlet. 

No  one  accustomed  to  pass  through  Cheapside  could 
fail  to  have  noticed  a  good-looking  man,  neither  black 
nor  white,  engaged  in  distributing  bills  to  the  thousands 
who  throng  that  part  of  the  city  of  London.  While 
strolling  through  Cheapside,  one  morning,  I  saw,  for  the 
fiftieth  time,  Joseph  Jenkins,  the  subject  of  this  chapter, 
handing  out  his  bills  to  all  who  would  take  them  as  he 
thrust  them  into  their  hands.  I  confess  that  I  was  not  a 
little  amused,  and  stood  for  some  moments  watching  and 
admiring  his  energy  in  distributing  his  papers.  A  few 
days  after,  I  saw  the  same  individual  in  Chelsea,  sweep- 
ing a  crossing ;  here,  too,  he  was  equally  as  energetic  as 
when  I  met  him  in  the  city.  Some  days  later,  while 
going  through  Kensington,  I  heard  rather  a  sweet,  musi- 
cal voice  singing  a  familiar  psalm,  and  on  looking  round 
was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  the  Cheap- 
side  bill-distributor  and  Chelsea  crossing-sweeper.  He 
was  now  singing  hymns,  and  selling  religious  tracts.     I 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        269 

am  fond  of  patronizing  genius,  and  therefore  took  one  of 
his  tracts  and  paid  him  for  a  dozen. 

During  the  following  week,  I  saw,  while  going  up  the 
city  road,  that  Shakspeare's  tragedy  of  Othello  was  to  be 
performed  at  the  Eagle  Saloon  that  night,  and  that  the 
character  of  the  Moor  AYas  to  be  taken  by  ^'  Selim,  an 
African  prince.^ ^  Having  no  engagement  that  evening, 
I  resolved  at  once  to  attend,  to  witness  the  performance 
of  the  ^^  African  Roscius,"  as  he  was  termed  on  the  bills. 
It  was  the  same  interest  that  had  induced  me  to  go  to 
the  Italian  opera  to  see  Madames  Sontag  and  Grisi  in 
Norma,  and  to  visit  Drury  Lane  to  see  Macready  take 
leave  of  the  stage.  My  expectations  were  screwed  up  to 
the  highest  point.  The  excitement  caused  by  the  publi- 
cation of  ^^  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  had  prepared  the  public 
for  anything  in  the  African  line,  and  I  felt  that  the 
prince  would  be  sure  of  a  good  audience ;  and  in  this  I 
was  not  disappointed,  for,  as  I  took  my  seat  in  one  of  the 
boxes  near  the  stage,  I  saw  that  the  house  was  crammed 
with  an  orderly  company.  The  curtain  was  already  up 
when  I  entered,  and  lago  and  Roderigo  were  on  the 
stage.  After  a  while  Othello  came  in,  and  was  greeted 
with  thunders  of  applause,  which  he  very  gracefully 
acknowledged.  Just  black  enough  to  take  his  part  with- 
out coloring  his  face,  and  being  tall,  with  a  good  figure 
and  an  easy  carriage,  a  fine,  full  and  musical  voice,  he 
was  well  adapted  to  the  character  of  Othello.  I  imme- 
diately recognized  in  the  countenance  of  the  Moor  a  face 
that  I  had  seen  before,  but  could  not  at  the  moment  tell 
23* 


270        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

•where.  Who  could  this  ^^ prince"  be,  thought  I.  He 
was  too  black  for  Douglass,  not  black  enough  for  Ward, 
not  tall  enough  for  Garnet,  too  calm  for  Delany,  figure, 
though  fine,  not  genteel  enough  for  Remond.  .  However, 
I  was  soon  satisfied  as  to  who  the  star  was.  Reader, 
would  you  think  it  ?  it  was  no  less  a  person  than  Mr. 
Jenkins,  the  bill-distributor  from  Cheapside,  and  crossing- 
sweeper  from  Chelsea!  For  my  own  part,  I  was  over- 
whelmed with  amazement,  and  it  was  some  time  before  I 
could  realize  the  fact.  He  soon  showed  that  he  possessed 
great  dramatic  power  and  skill ;  and  his  description  to 
the  senate  of  how  he  won  the  affections  of  the  gentle 
Desdemona  stamped  him  at  once  as  an  actor  of  merit. 
^^  What  a  pity,"  said  a  lady  near  me  to  a  gentleman  that 
was  by  her  side,  -Hhat  a  prince  of  the  royal  blood  of 
Africa  should  have  to  go  upon  the  stage  for  a  living  !  It 
it  is  indeed  a  shame  !  "     When  he  came  to  the  scene, 

**  0,  cursed,  cursed  slave  !  —  whip  me,  ye  devils. 
From  the  possession  of  this  heavenly  sight ! 
Blow  me  about  in  winds,  roast  me  in  sulphur  ! 
Wash  me  in  steep-down  gulfs  of  liquid  fire  ! 
0,  Desdemona  !  Desdemona  !  dead  ?, 
Dead?  0  !  0  !  0!" 

the  effect  was  indeed  grand.  When  the  curtain  fell,  the 
prince  was  called  upon  the  stage,  where  he  was  received 
with  deafening  shouts  of  approbation,  and  a  number  of 
bouquets  thrown  at  his  feet,  which  he  picked  up,  bowed, 
and  retired.  I  went  into  Cheapside  the  next  morning, 
at  an  early  hour,  to  see  if  the  prince  had  given  up  his 


.  PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        271 

old  trade  for  what  I  supposed  to  be  a  more  lucrative  one ; 
but  I  found  the  hero  of  the  previous  night  at  his  post, 
and  giving  out  his  bills  as  energetically  as  when  I  had 
last  seen  him.     Having  to  go  to  the  provinces  for  some 
months,  I  lost  sight  of  Mr.  Jenkins,  and  on  my  return  to 
town  did  not  trouble  myself  to  look  him  up.     More  than 
a   year   after   I  had   witnessed    the   representation   of 
Othello    at   the    Eagle,    I   was    walking,   one   pleasant 
Sabbath  evening,  through  one  of  the  small  streets  in  the 
borough,  when  I  found  myself  in  front  of  a  little  chapel, 
where  a  number  of  persons  were  going  in.     As  I  was 
passing  on  slowly,  an  elderly  man  said  to  me,  '^  I  suppose 
you  have  come   to  hear  your  colored  brother  preach." 
^•No,"  I  answered;   ''I  w^as  not  aware  that  one  was  to 
be  here."      '^Yes,"  said  he;   '^and  a  clever  man  he  is, 
too."     As  the  old  man  offered  to  find  me  a  seat,  I  con- 
cluded to  go  in  and  hear  this  son  of  Africa.     The  room, 
which  was  not  large,  was  already  full.     I  had  to  wait 
but  a  short  time  before  the  reverend  gentleman  made  his 
appearance.     He   was  nearly   black,    and  dressed  in  a 
black  suit,  with  high  shirt-collar,   and  an  intellectual- 
looking  cravat,  that  nearly  hid  his  chin.     A  pair  of  spec- 
tacles covered  his  eyes.     The  preacher  commenced  by 
reading  a  portion  of  Scripture  ;  and  then  announced  that 
they  would  sing  the  twenty-eighth  hymn  in  ^Hhe  ar- 
rangement."    0,   that  voice !     I  felt  sure   that  I  had 
heard  that  musical  voice  before  ;  but  vfhere,  I  could  not 
tell.     I  was  not  aware  that  any  of  my  countrymen  were 
in  London ;  but  felt  that,   whoever  he  was,  he  was  no 


272        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.   • 

discredit  to  the  race ;  for  lie  was  a  most  eloquent  and 
accomplished  orator.  His  sermon  was  against  the  sale 
and  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  and  the  bad  habits  of  the 
working  classes,  of  whom  his  audience  was  composed. 

Although  the  subject  was  intensely  interesting,  I  was 
impatient  for  it  to  come  to  a  close,  for  I  wanted  to  speak 
to  the  preacher.  But,  the  evening  being  warm,  and  the 
room  heated,  the  reverend  gentleman,  on  wiping  the  per- 
spiration from  his  face  (which,  by  the  way,  ran  very 
freely),  took  off  his  spectacles  on  one  occasion,  so  that  I 
immediately  recognized  him,  and  saved  me  from  going  up 
to  the  pulpit  at  the  end  of  the  service.  Yes ;  it  was  the 
bill-distributor  of  Cheapside,  the  crossing-sweeper  of 
Chelsea,  the  tract-seller  and  psalm-singer  of  Kensington, 
and  the  Othello  of  the  Eagle  Saloon.  I  could  scarcely 
keep  from  laughing  right  out  when  I  discovered  this  to 
be  the  man  that  I  had  seen  in  so  many  characters.  As 
I  was  about  leaving  my  seat  at  the  close  of  the  services, 
the  old  man  who  showed  me  into  the  chapel  asked  me  if 
I  would  not  like  to  be  introduced  to  the  minister,  and  I 
immediately  replied  that  I  would.  We  proceeded  up  the 
aisle,  and  met  the  clergyman  as  he  was  descending.  On 
seeing  me,  he  did  not  w^ait  for  a  formal  introduction,  but 
put  out  his  hand  and  said,  ^^  I  have  seen  you  so  often, 
sir,  that  I  seem  to  know  you."  ^'  Yes,*'  I  replied ;  *'  we 
have  met  several  times,  and  under  different  circum- 
stances." Without  saying  more,  he  invited  me  to  walk 
with  him  towards  his  home,  which  was  in  the  direction  of 
my  own  residence.     We  proceeded;    and,   during  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        273 

walk,  Mr.  Jenkins  gave  me  some  little  account  of  his 
early  history.  ^'You  think  me  rather  an  odd  fish,  I 
presume/'  said  he.  ^^Yes/'  I  replied.  ^'You  are  not 
the  only  one  who  thinks  so/'  continued  he.  ^^  Although 
I  am  not  as  black  as  some  of  my  countrymen,  I  am  a 
native  of  Africa.  Surrounded  by  some  beautiful  moun- 
tain scenery,  and  situated  between  Darfour  and  Abyssinia, 
ty^^o  thousand  miles  in  the  interior  of  Africa,  is  a  small 
valley  going  by  the  name  of  Tegla.  To  that  valley  I 
stretch  forth  my  affections,  giving  it  the  endearing  appel- 
lation of  my  native  hom^e  and  fatherland.  It  was  there 
that  I  was  born,  it  was  there  that  I  received  the  fond 
looks  of  a  loving  mother,  and  it  was  there  that  I  set  my 
feet,  for  the  first  time,  upon  a  world  full  of  cares,  trials, 
difficulties  and  dangers.  My  father  being  a  farmer,  I 
used  to  be  sent  out  to  take  care  of  his  goats.  This  ser- 
vice I  did  when  I  was  between  seven  and  eight  years  of 
age.  As  I  was  the  eldest  of  the  boys,  my  pride  was 
raised  in  no  small  degree  when  I  beheld  my  father  pre- 
paring a  farm  for  me.  This  event  filled  my  mind  with 
the  grand  anticipation  of  leaving  the  care  of  the  goats  to 
my  brother,  who  was  then  beginning  to  work  a  little. 
V/hile  my  father  was  making  these  preparations,  I  had 
the  constant  charge  of  the  goats ;  and,  being  accompanied 
by  two  other  boys,  who  resided  near  my  father's  house, 
we  Yfandered  many  miles  from  home,  by  which  means  we 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  different  districts  of  our 
country. 

^'It  was  while   in  these  rambles  with  my  companions 


274  PIPAGES  AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

that  I  became  the  victim  of  the  slave-trader.  We  were 
tied  with  cords,  and  taken  to  Tegla,  and  thence  to  Kor- 
dofan,  which  is  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Pacha  of 
Egypt.  From  Kordofan  I  was  brought  down  to  Dongola 
and  Kortij  in  Nubia,  and  from  thence  down  the  Nile  to 
Cairo ;  and,  after  being  sold  nine  times,  I  became  the 
property  of  an  English  gentleman,  who  brought  me  to 
this  country  and  put  me  into  school.  But  he  died  before 
I  finished  my  education,  and  his  family  feeling  no  interest 
in  me,  I  had  to  seek  a  living  as  best  I  could.  I  have 
been  employed  for  some  years  in  distributing  hand-bills 
for  a  barber  in  Cheapside  in  the  morning,  go  to  Chelsea 
and  sweep  a  crossing  in  the  afternoon,  and  sing  psalms 
and  sell  religious  tracts  in  the  evening.  Sometimes  I 
have  an  engagement  to  perform  at  some  of  the  small 
theatres,  as  I  had  when  you  saw  me  at  the  Eagle.  I 
preach  for  this  little  congregation  over  here,  and  charge 
them  nothing ;  for  I  want  that  the  poor  should  have  the 
Gospel  without  money  and  without  price.  I  have  now 
given  up  distributing  bills  ;  I  have  settled  my  son  in  that 
office.  My  eldest  daughter  was  married  about  three 
months  ago ;  and  I  have  presented  her  husband  with  the 
Chelsea  crossing,  as  my  daughter's  wedding  portion.'' 
'•Can  he  make  a  living  at  it?"  I  eagerly  inquired. 
'^  0,  yes  !  that  crossing  at  Chelsea  is  worth  thirty  shil- 
lings a  week,  if  it  is  well  swept,"  said  he.  ''But  what 
do  you  do  for  a  living  for  yourself?  "  I  asked.  "  I  am 
the  leader  of  a  band,"  he  continued;  ''and  we  play  for 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        275 

balls  and  parties,  and  three  times  a  week  at  the  Holborn 
Casino." 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  a  point  where  we  had  to 
part ;  and  I  left  Joseph  Jenkins,  impressed  with  the  idea 
that  he  was  the  greatest  genius  that  I  had  met  in 
Europe. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

**  Farewell  !  we  did  not  know  tliy  worth  ; 
But  thou  art  gone,  and  now  't  is  prized. 
So  angels  walked  unknown  on  earth. 
But  when  they  flew  were  recognized." 

Thomas  Hood. 

It  was  on  Taesday,  July  18,  1854,  that  I  set  out  for 
Kensall  Green  Cemetery,  to  attend  the  inauguration  of 
the  monument  erected  to  the  memory  of  Thomas  Hood, 
the  poet.  It  was  the  first  pleasant  day  we  had  had  for 
some  time,  and  the  weather  was  exceedingly  fine.  The 
company  was  large,  and  many  literary  characters  were 
present.  Near  the  monument  sat  Eliza  Cook,  author 
of  the  ''  Old  Arm  Chair,"  with  her  hair  cut  short  and 
parted  on  one  side  like  a  man's.  She  is  short  in  stature, 
and  thick-set,  with  fair  complexion,  and  bright  eyes. 
Not  far  from  Miss  Cook  was  Mrs.  Balfour,  author  of 
the  ^^  Working  "Women  of  the  Last  Half-century,'' 
'^Morning  Dew  Drops,"  etc.  etc.  Mrs.  Balfour  is  both 
taller  and  stouter  than  Miss  Cook ;  and  both  are  about  the 
same  age, —  not  far  from  forty.  Murdo  Young,  Esq., 
of  The  Sim,  and  George  Cruikshank,  stood  near  the 
monument.     Horace  Mayhew,  author  of  ^^  London  Labor 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        277 

and  London  Poor,"  was  by  the  side  of  Cruikshank.  The 
Hon.  Mrs.  Milnes  sat  near  Eliza  Cook.  As  the  cere- 
mony was  about  to  commencej  a  short,  stout  man,  with 
dark  complexion,  and  black  hair,  took  his  stand  on  a 
tomb  near  by ;  this  was  R.  Monckton  Milnes,  Esq., 
author  of  ^^  Poetry  for  the  People,"  and  M.P.  for 
Pontefract.     He  was  the  orator  of  the  occasion. 

The  monument,  which  has  been  ably  executed  by  Mr. 
Matthew  Noble,  consists  of  a  bronze  bust  of  the  poet 
elevated  on  a  pedestal  of  highly-polished  red  granite,  the 
whole  being  twelve  feet  high.  In  front  of  the  bust  are 
placed  wreaths  in  bronze,  formed  of  the  laurel,  the 
myrtle,  and  the  immortelle  ;  and  on  a  slab  beneath  the 
bust  appears  that  well-known  line  of  the  poet,  which  he 
desired  should  be  used  as  his  epitaph : 

"  He  sang  the  Song  of  the  Shirt." 

Upon  the  front  of  the  pedestal  is  carved  this  inscrip- 
tion :  • 

''  In  memory  of  Thomas  Hood,  born  23d  May,  1798  ;  died  3d  May, 
1845.     Erected  by  public  subscription,  A.  d.  1854." 

At  the  base  of  the  pedestal  a  lyre  and  comic  mask  in 
bronze  are  thrown  together,  suggesting  the  mingled 
character  of  Hood's  writings ;  whilst  on  the  sides  of  the 
pedestal  are  bronze  medallions  illustrating  the  poems  of 
^'The  Bridge  of  Sighs''  and  ^' The  Dream  of  Eugene 
Aram."  The  whole  design  is  worthy  of  the  poet  and 
the  sculptor,  and  it  is  much  to  the  honor  of  the  latter 
24 


278        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

that  his  sympathy  with  the  object  has  entirely  destroyed 
all  hope  of  profit  from  the  work. 

Mr.  Milnes  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  poet,  and  his 
selection  as  orator  was  in  good  taste.  He.  spoke  with 
great  delicacy  and  kindness  of  Hood's  personal  charac- 
teristics, and  with  much  taste  upon  the  artistic  value  of 
the  dead  humorist's  works.  He  touched  with  great 
felicity  and  subtlety  upon  the  value  of  humor.  He 
defined  its  province,  and  showed  how  closely  it  was 
connected  with  the  highest  forms  in  which  genius  mani- 
fests itself.  Mr.  Milnes  spoke,  however,  more  as  a  friend 
than  as  a  critic,  and  his  genial  utterances  excited  emo- 
tions in  the  hearts  of  his  hearers  which  told  how  deep 
was  their  sympathy  both  with  the  orator  and  the  subject 
of  his  eulogium.  There  were  not  many  dry  eyes  amongst 
his  hearers  when  he  quoted  one  or  two  exquisite  portions 
of  Hood's  poems.  It  was  evident  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  audience  were  well  acquainted  with  the  works  of 
the  poet,  and  were  delighted  to  hear  the  quotations  from 
poems  which  had  afforded  them  exquisite  gratification  in 
the  perusal. 

Hood  was  not  a  merely  ephemeral  writer.  He  did 
not  address  himself  to  the  feelings  which  mere  passing 
events  generated  in  the  minds  of  his  readers.  He  smote 
deep  down  into  the  hearts  of  his  admirers.  Had  he  been 
nothing  more  than  a  literary  man,  the  ceremony  on  this 
occasion  would  have  been  an  impertinence.  The  nation 
cannot  afford  to  have  its  time  taken  up  by  eulogiums  on 
every  citizen  who  does  his  work  well  in  his  own  particu- 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        279 

lar  line.  NeverthelesSj  when  a  man  not  only  does  his 
own  work  well,  but  acts  powerfully  on  the  national  mind, 
then  his  fame  is  a  national  possession,  and  may  be  with 
all  propriety  made  the  subject  of  public  commemoration. 
A  great  author  is  distinguished  from  the  merely  profes- 
sional scribe  by  the  fact  of  adding  something  to  the 
stock  of  national  ideas.  Who  can  tell  how  much  of  the 
national  character  is  due  to  the  operation  of  the  works  of 
Shakspeare  ?  The  flood  of  ideas  with  which  the  great 
dramatist  inundated  the  national  mind  has  enriched  it 
and  fertilized  it.  We  are  most  of  us  wiser  and  better  by 
the  fact  of  Shakspeare  having  lived  and  written.  It 
would  not  be  difficult  to  find  in  most  modern  works 
traces  of  the  influence  which  Shakspeare  has  exercised 
over  the  writers.  A  great  author,  such  as  Shakspeare,- 
is,  then,  a  great  public  educator.  The  national  mind  is 
enlarged  and  enriched  by  the  treasures  which  he  pours 
into  it.  There  is,  therefore,  a  great  propriety  in  making 
such  a  writer  the  subject  of  public  eulogium. 

Hood  was  one  of  those  who  not  only  enriched  the 
national  literature,  but  instructed  the  national  mind. 
His  conceptions,  it  is  true,  were  not  vast.  His  labors 
were  not,  like  those  of  Shakspeare,  colossal.  But  he  has 
produced  as  permanent  an  effect  on  the  nation  as  many  of 
its  legislators. 

Englishmen  are  wiser  and  better  because  Hood  has 
lived.  In  one  of  his  own  poems,  ^^The  Death-Bed," 
how  sweetly  he  sang  : 


280  PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD. 

'*  We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night, 
Her  breathing  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  breast  the  wave  of  life 
Kept  heaving  to  and  fro. 

"  So  silently  we  seemed  to  speak, 
So  slowly  moved  about, 
As  we  had  lent  her  half  our  powers 
To  eke  her  living  out. 

"  Our  very  hopes  belied  our  fears, 
Our  fears  our  hopes  belied  ; 
We  thought  her  dying  when  she  slept, 
And  sleeping  when  she  died. 

"  For  when  the  morn  came  dim  and  sad. 
And  chill  with  early  showers. 
Her  quiet  eyelids  closed  —  she  had 
Another  morn  than  ours." 

Thomas  Hood  has  another  morn ;  may  that  morn  have 
brightened  into  perfect  day  !  It  is  well  known  that  the 
poet  died  almost  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  Being 
seized,  long  before  his  death,  with  a  malady  that  kept 
him  coniSned  to  his  bed  the  greater  part  of  the  time,  he 
became  much  embarrassed.  Still,  in  defiance  of  anguish 
and  weakness,  he  toiled  on,  until  nature  could  endure  no 
more.  Many  of  Hood's  humorous  pieces  were  written 
upon  a  sick  bed,  and  taken  out  and  sold  to  the  publishers, 
that  his  family  might  have  bread.  Little  did  those  who 
laughed  over  these  comical  sayings  think  of  the  pain 
that  it  cost  the  poet  to  write  them.  And,  now  that  he  is 
gone,  we  often  hear  some  one  say,  ^^  Poor  HoodV^  But 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  •       281 

peace  to  his  ashes  !  He  now  lies  in  the  finest  cemetery 
in  the  worldj  and  in  one  of  its  greenest  spots.  At  the 
close  of  the  inauguration,  a  rush  was  made  to  get  a  view 
of  Eliza  Cook,  as  being  the  next  great  novelty  after  the 
monument,  if  not  its  equal. 
24=^ 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

**  Dull  rogues  affect  the  politician's  part. 
And  learn  to  nod,  and  smile,  and  shrug,  "with  art  ; 
Who  nothing  has  to  lose,  the  war  bewails  ; 
And  he  who  nothing  pays,  at  taxes  rails.'' 

CONGREVE. 

The  Abbey  clock  was  striking  nine,  as  we  entered 
the  House  of  Commons,  and,  giving  up  our  ticket,  were 
conducted  to  the  strangers'  gallery.  We  immediately 
recognized  many  of  the  members,  whom  we  had  met  in 
private  circles  or  public  meetings.  Just  imagine, 
reader,  that  we  are  now  seated  in  the  strangers'  gallery, 
looking  down  upon  the  representatives  of  the  people  of 
the  British  empire. 

There,  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  shines  the  fine,  open, 
glossy  brow  and  speaking  face  of  Alexander  Hastie,  a 
Glasgow  merchant,  a  mild  and  amiable  man,  of  modest 
deportment,  liberal  principles,  and  religious  profession.  He 
has  been  twice  elected  for  the  city  of  Glasgow,  in  which  he 
resides.  He  once  presided  at  a  meeting  for  us  in  his  own 
city. 

On  the  right  of  the  hall,  from  where  we  sit,  you  see 
that  small  man,  with  fair  complexion,  brown  hair,  gray 
eyeSj  and  a  most  intellectual  countenance.     It  is  Layard, 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        283 


with  whom  we  spent  a  pleasant  day  at  Hartwell  Park, 
the  princely  residence  of  John  Lee,  Esq.,  LL.D.  He 
was  employed  as  consul  at  Bagdad,  in  Turkey.  While 
there  he  explored  the  ruins  of  ancient  Nineveh,  and  sent 
to  England  the  Assyrian  relics  now  in  the  British  Museum. 
He  is  member  for  Aylesbury.  He  takes  a  deep  interest  in 
the  Eastern  question,  and  censures  the  government  for 
their  want  of  energy  in  the  present  war. 

Not  far  from  Layard  you  see  the  large  frame  and  dusky 
visage  of  Joseph  Hume.  He  was  the  son  of  a  poor 
woman  who  sold  apples  in  the  streets  of  London.  Mr. 
Hume  spent  his  younger  days  in  India,  where  he  made  a 
fortune  ;  and  then  returned  to  England,  and  was  elected 
a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  where  he  has 
been  ever  since,  with  the  exception  of  five  or  six  years. 
He  began  political  life  as  a  tory,  but  soon  went  over  to 
radicalism.  He  is  a  great  financial  reformer,  and  has 
originated  many  of  the  best  measures  of  a  practical  char- 
acter that  have  been  passed  in  Parliament  during  the  last 
thirty  years.  He  is  seventy-five  years  old,  but  still  full 
of  life  and  activity  —  capable  of  great  endurance  and 
incessant  labor.  No  man  enjoys  to  an  equal  extent  the 
respect  and  confidence  of  the  legislature.  Though  his 
opinions  are  called  extreme,  he  contents  himself  with 
realizing,  for  the  present,  the  good  that  is  attainable.  He 
is  emphatically  a  progressive  reformer  ;  and  the  father  of 
the  House  of  Commons. 

To  the  left  of  Mr.  Hume  you  see  a  slim,  thin-faced 
man,  with  spectacles,  an  anxious  countenance^  his  hat  on 


284  places\ni)  people  abroad. 


another  seat  before  hinij  and  in  it  a  large  paper  rolled 
up.  That  is  Edward  Miall.  He  was  educated  for  the 
Baptist  ministry,  and  was  called  when  very  young  to  be 
a  pastor.  He  relinquished  his  charge  to  become  the  con- 
ductor of  a  paper  devoted  to  the  abolition  of  the  state 
church  J  and  the  complete  political  enfranchisement  of  the 
people.  He  made,  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  go  into 
Parliament,  and  at  last  succeeded  Thomas  Crawford  in  the 
representation  of  Rochdale,  where  in  1852  he  was  elected 
free  of  expense.  He  is  one  of  the  most  democratic  mem- 
bers of  the  legislature.  Miall  is  an  able  writer  and 
speaker  — a  very  close  and  correct  reasoner.  He  stands 
at  the  very  head  of  the  Nonconformist  party  in  Great 
Britain  ;  and  The  Nonconformist^  of  which  he  is  editor, 
is  the  most  radical  journal  in  the  United  Kingdom. 

Look  at  that  short,  thick-set.  man,  with  his  hair  parted 
on  the  crown  of  his  head,  a  high  and  expansive  forehead, 
and  an  uncommon  bright  eye.  That  is  William  Johnson 
Fox.  He  was  a  working  weaver  at  NorAvich;  then  went 
to  Holton  College,  London,  to  be  educated  for  the  Ortho- 
dox Congregational  ministry  ;  afterwards  embraced  Uni- 
tarian views.  He  was  invited  to  Finsbury  Chapel,  where 
for  many  years  he  lectured  v/eekly  upon  a  wide  range  of 
subjects,  embracing  literature,  political  science,  theology, 
government  and  social  economy.  He  is  the  writer  of 
the  articles  signed  ^^Publicola"  in  the  Weekly  Dis- 
patchy  a  democratic  newspaper.  He  has  retired  from 
his  pulpit  occupations,  and  supports  himself  exclusively 
by  his  pen,  in  connection  with  the  liberal  journals  of  the 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        285 

metropolis.  Mr.  Fox  is  a  witty  and  vigorous  writer,  an 
animated  and  brilliant  orator. 

Yonder,  on  the  right  of  us,  sits  Richard  Cobden.  Look 
at  his  thin,  pale  face,  and  spare-made  frame.  He  started 
as  a  commercial  traveller  ;  was  afterwards  a  calico-printer 
and  merchant  in  Manchester.  He  was  the  expounder,  in 
the  Manchester  Chamber  of  Commerce  and  in  the  town 
council,  of  the  principles  of  free  trade.  In  the  council 
of  the  Anti- Corn-Law  League,  he  was  the  leader,  and 
principal  agitator  of  the  question  in  public  meetings 
throughout  the  kingdom.  He  was  first  elected  for  Stock- 
port. When  Sir  Robert  Peel's  administration  abolished 
the  corn-laws,  the  prime  minister  avowed  in  the  House  of 
Commons  that  the  great  measure  was  in  most  part 
achieved  by  the  unadorned  eloquence  of  Richard  Cobden. 
He  is  the  representative  of  the  non-intervention  or  polit- 
ical peace  party ;  holding  the  right  and  duty  of  national 
defence,  but  opposing  all  alliances  which  are  calculated  to 
embroil  the  country  in  the  affairs  of  other  nations.  His 
age  is  about  fifty.  He  represents  the  largest  constituency 
in  the  kingdom  —  the  western  division  of  Yorkshire, 
which  contains  thirty-seven  thousand  voters.  Mr.  Cob- 
den has  a  reflective  cast  of  mind ;  and  is  severely  logical 
in  his  style,  and  very  lucid  in  the  treatment  of  his  sub- 
jects. He  may  be  termed  the  leader  of  the  radical  party 
in  the  House. 

Three  seats  from  Cobden  you  see  that  short,  stout  per- 
son, with  his  high  head,  large,  round  face,  good-sized  eyes. 
It  is  Macaulay,  the  poet,  critic,  historian  and  statesman. 


286        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

If  you  have  not  read  his  Essay  on  Milton,  you  should  do 
so  immediately;  it  is  the  finest  thing  of  the  kind  in  the 
language.  Then. there  is  his  criticism  on  the  Rev.  R. 
Montgomery.  Macaulay  vf ill  never  be  forgiven  by  the 
divine  for  that  onslaught  upon  his  poetical  reputation. 
That  review  did  more  to  keep  the  reverend  poet's  works 
on  the  publisher's  shelves  than  all  other  criticisms  com- 
bined.    Macaulay  represents  the  city  of  Edinburgh. 

Look  at  that  tall  man,  apparently  near  seventy,  with 
front  teeth  gone.  That  is  Joseph  Brotherton,  the  mem- 
ber for  Salford.  He  has  represented  that  constituency 
ever  since  1832.  He  has  always  been  a  consistent  lib- 
eral, and  is  a  man  of  business.  He  is  no  orator,  and 
seldom  speaks,  unless  in  favor  of  the  adjournment  of  the 
House  when  the  hour  of  midnight  has  arrived.  At  the 
commencement  of  every  new  session  of  Parliament  he 
prepares  a  resolution  that  no  business  shall  be  entered 
upon  after  the  hour  of  twelve  at  night,  but  has  never 
been  able  to  carry  it.  He  is  a  teetotaller  and  a  vegeta- 
rian, a  member  of  the  Peace  Society,  and  a  preacher  in 
the  small  religious  society  to  which  he  .belongs.  • 

In  a  seat  behind  Brotherton  you  see  a  young-looking 
man,  with  neat  figure,  white  vest,  frilled  shirt,  with  gold 
studs,  gold  breast-pin,  a  gold  chain  round  the  neck,  ^ 
white  kid  glove  on  the  right  hand,  the  left  bare  with  the 
exception  of  two  gold  rings.  It  is  Samuel  Morton  Peto. 
He  is  of  humble  origin  - —  has  made  a  vast  fortune  as  a 
builder  and  contractor  for  docks  and  railways.  He  is  a 
Baptist,  and  contributes  very  largely  to  his  own  and 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        287 

other  dissenting  denominations.  He  has  built  several 
Baptist  chapels  in  London  and  elsewhere.  His  appear- 
ance is  that  of  a  gentleman ;  and  his  style  of  speaking, 
though  not  elegant,  yet  pleasing. 

Over  on  the  same  side  with  the  liberals  sits  John 
Bright,  the  Quaker  statesman,  and  leader  of  the  Man- 
chester school.  '  He  is  the  son  of  a  Rochdale  manufac- 
turer, and  first  distinguished  himself  as  an  agitator  in 
favor  of  the  repeal  of  the  corn-laws.  He  represents  the 
city  of  Manchester,  and  has  risen  very  rapidly.  Mr. 
Cobden  and  he  invariably  act  together,  and  will,  doubt- 
less, sooner  or  later,  come  into  power  together.  Look  at 
his  robust  and  powerful  frame,  round  and  pleasing  face. 
He  is  but  little  more  than  forty ;  an  earnest  and  eloquent 
speaker,  and  commands  the  fixed  attention  of  his  audi- 
ence. 

See  that  exceedingly  good-looking  man  just  taking  his 
seat.  It  is  William  Ewart  Gladstone.  He  is  the  son  of 
a  Liverpool  merchant,  and  represents  the  University  of 
Oxford.  He  came  into  Parliament  in  1832,  under  the 
auspices  of  the  tory  Duke  of  Newcastle.  He  was  a 
disciple  of  the  first  Sir  R.  Peel,  and  was  by  that  states- 
man introduced  into  official  life.  He  has  been  Vice- 
president  and  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  and  is 
now  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  Mr.  Gladstone  is 
only  forty-four.  When  not  engaged  in  speaking  he  is  of 
rather  unprepossessing  appearance.  His  forehead  ap- 
pears low,  but  his  eye  is  bright  and  penetrating.  He  is 
one  of  the  ablest  debaters  in  the  House,  and  is  master 


288        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD. 

of  a  style  of  eloquence  in  whicli  he  is  quite  unapproached. 
As  a  reasoner  he  is  subtle,  and  occasionally  Jesuitical ; 
but,  with  a  good  cause  and  a  conviction  of  the  right,  he 
rises  to  a  lofty  pitch  of  oratory,  and  may  be  termed  the 
Wendell  Phillips  of  the  House  of  Commons. ' 

There  sits  Disraeli,  amongst  the  tories.  Look  at  that 
Jewish  face,  those  dark  ringlets  hanging  round  that  mar- 
ble brow.  When  on  his  feet  he  has  a  cat-like,  stealthy 
step ;  always  looks  on  the  ground  when  walking.  He  is 
the  son  of  the  well-known  author  of  the  ^'  Curiosities  of 
Literature.''  His  ancestors  were  Venetian  Jews.  He 
was  himself  born  a  Jew,  and  was  initiated  into  the  He- 
brew faith.  Subsequently  he  embraced  Christianity. 
His  literary  works  are  numerous,  consisting  entirely  of 
novels,  with  the  exception  of  a  biography  of  the  late 
Lord  George  Bentinck,  the  leader  of  the  protectionist 
party,  to  whose  post  Mr.  Disraeli  succeeded  on  the  death 
of  his  friend  and  political  chief.  Mr.  Disraeli  has  been 
all  round  the  compass  in  politics.  He  is  now  professedly 
a  conservative,  but  is  believed  to  be  willing  to  support 
any  measures,  however  sweeping  and  democratical,  if  by 
so  doing  he  could  gratify  his  ambition  —  which  is  for 
office  and  power.  He  was  the  great  thorn  in  the  side  of 
the  late  Sir  E..  Peel,  and  was  never  so  much  at  home  as 
when  he  could  find  a  flaw  in  that  distinguished  states- 
man's political  acts.  He  is  an  able  debater  and  a  fin- 
ished orator,  and  in  his  speeches  wrings  applause  even 
from  his  political  opponents. 

Cast  your  eyes  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  House,  and 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        289 

take  a  good  view  of  that  venerable  man,  full  of  years, 
just  rising  from  his  seat.'  See  how  erect  he  stands;  he 
is  above  seventy  years  of  age,  and  yet  he  does  not  seem 
to  be  forty.  That  is  Lord  Palmerston.  Next  to  Joseph 
Hume,  he  is  the  oldest  member  in  the  House.  He  has 
been  longer  in  oflSce  than  any  other  living  man.  All 
parties  have,  by  turns,  claimed  him,  and  he  has  belonged 
to  all  kinds  of  administrations ;  tory,  conservative, 
w^hig,  and  coalition.  He  is  a  ready  debater,  and  is  a 
general  favorite,  as  a  speaker,  for  his  wit  and  adroitness, 
but  little  trusted  by  any  party  as  a  statesman.  His 
talents  have  secured  him  office,  as  he  is  useful  as  a  min- 
ister, and  dangerous  as  an  opponent. 

That  is  Lord  Dudley  Cutts  Stuart  speaking  to  Mr. 
Ewart.  His  lordship  represents  the  populous  and 
wealthy  division  of  the  district  of  Marylebone.  He  is  a 
radical,  the  warm  friend  of  the  cause  of  Poland,  Hun- 
gary and  Turkey.  He  speaks  often,  but  always  with  a 
degree  of  hesitation  which  makes  it  painful  to  listen  to 
him.  His  solid  frame,  strongly-marked  features,  and 
unmercifully  long  eye-brows  are  in  strange  contrast  to 
the  delicate  face  of  Mr.  Ewart. 

The  latter  is  the  representative  for  Dumfries,  a  Scotch 
borough.  He  belongs  to  a  wealthy  family,  that  has 
made  its  fortune  by  commerce.  Mr.  Ewart  is  a  radical, 
a  stanch  advocate  of  the  abolition  of  capital  punish- 
ment, and  a  strenuous  supporter  of  all  measures  for  the 
intellectual  improvement  of  the  people. 

Ah  !  we  shall  now  have  a  speech.  See  that  little  man 
25 


290        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

rising  from  his  seat;  look  at  his  thin  black  hair,  how  it 
seems  to  stand  up ;  hear  that  weak,  but  distinct  voice. 
0,  how  he  repeats  the  ends  of  his  sentences  !  It  is  Lord 
John  Russell,  the  leader  of  the  present  administration. 
He  is  now  asking  for  three  million  pounds  sterling  to 
carry  on  the  war.  He  is  a  terse  and  perspicuous  speaker, 
but  avoids  prolixity.  He  is  much  respected  on  both 
sides  of  the  House.  Though  favorable  to  reform  meas- 
ures generally,  he  is  nevertheless  an  upholder  of  aristoc- 
racy, and  stands  at  the  head  and  firmly  by  his  order. 
He  is  brother  to  the  present  Duke  of  Bedford,  and  has 
twice  been  Premier ;  and,  though  on  the  sunny  side  of 
sixty,  he  has  been  in  ojQSce,  at  different  times,  more  than 
thirty  years.  He  is  a  constitutional  whig  and  conser- 
vative reformer.  See  how  earnestly  he  speaks,  and  keeps 
his  eyes  on  Disraeli !  He  is  afraid  of  the  Jew.  Now  he 
scratches  the  bald  place  on  his  head,  and  then  opens  that 
huge  roll  of  paper,  and  looks  over  towards  Lord  Palmicrston. 

That  full-faced,  well-built  man,  with  handsome  coun- 
tenance, just  behind  him,  is  Sir  Joshua  Walmesley. 
He  is  about  the  same  age  of  Lord  John  ;  and  is  the 
representative  for  Leicester.  He  is  a  native  of  Liverpool, 
where  for  some  years  he  was  a  poor  teacher,  but  after- 
wards became  wealthy  in  the  corn  trade.  When  mayor 
of  his  native  town,  he  was  knighted.  He  is  a  radical 
reformer,  and  always  votes  on  the  right  side. 

Lord  John  Russell  has  finished  and  taken  his  seat. 
Joseph  Hume  is  up.  He  goes  into  figures ;  he  is  the 
arithmetician  of  the  House  of  Commons.     Mr.  Hume  is 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD-        291 

in  the  Commons  what  James  N.  Buffum  is  in  our  Anti- 
Slavery  meetings,  the  man  of  facts.  Watch  the  old 
man's  eye  as  he  looks  over  his  papers.  He  is  of  no  reli- 
gious faith,  and  said,  a  short  time  since,  that  the  world 
would  be  better  off  if  all  creeds  were  swept  into  the 
Thames.     His  motto  is  that  of  Pope  : 

"  For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  figlit : 
His  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

Mr.  Hume  has  not  been  tedious ;  he  is  done.  Now  for 
Disraeli.  He  is  going  to  pick  Lord  John's  speech  to 
pieces,  and  he  can  do  it  better  than  any  other  man  in  the 
House.  See  how  his  ringlets  shake  as  he  gesticulates  ! 
and  that  sarcastic  smile  !  He  thinks  the  government  has 
not  been  vigorous  enough  in  its  prosecution  of  the  war. 
He  finds  fault  with  the  inactivity  of  the  Baltic  fleet ;  the 
allied  army  has  made  no  movement  to  suit  him.  The 
Jew  looks  over  towards  Lord  John,  and  then  makes  a 
good  hit.  Lord  John  shakes  his  head ;  Disraeli  has 
touched  a  tender  point,  and  he  smiles  as  the  minister 
turns  on  his  seat.  The  Jew  is  delighted  beyond  meas- 
ure. ''  The  Noble  Lord  shakes  his  head  ;  am  I  to  under- 
stand that  he  did  not  say  what  I  have  just  repeated?'' 
Lord  John:  ^^The  Right  Hon.  Gentleman  is  mistaken ; 
I  did  not  say  what  he  has  attributed  to  me."  Disraeli : 
^^I  am  glad  that  the  Noble  Lord  has  denied  what  I 
thought  he  had  said."  An  attack  is  made  on  another 
part  of  the  minister's  speech.  Lord  John  shakes  his  head 
again.  ''  Does  the  Noble  Lord  deny  that,  too  7  "  Lord 
John:  "No,  I  don't,  but   your  criticism   is   unjust." 


292        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.  . 

Disraeli  smiles  again  :  he  has  the  minister  in  his  hands, 
and  he  shakes  him  well  before  he  lets  him  go.  What 
cares  he  for  justice  ?  Criticism  is  his  forte  ;  it  was  that 
that  made  him  what  he  is  in  the  House.  The  Jew  con- 
cludes his  speech  amid  considerable  applause. 

All  eyes  are  turned  towards  the  seat  of  the  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer  :  a  pause  of  a  moment's  duration,  and 
the  orator  of  the  House  rises  to  his  feet.  Those  who 
have  been  reading  The  Times  lay  it  down :  all  whis- 
pering stops,  and  the  attention  of  the  members  is  directed 
to  Gladstone,  as  he  begins.  Disraeli  rests  his  chin  upon 
his  hat,  which  lies  upon  his  knee  :  he  too  is  chained  to 
.  his  seat  by  the  fascinating  eloquence  of  the  man  of  let- 
ters. Thunders  of  applause  follow,  in  which  all  join 
but  the  Jew.  Disraeli  changes  his  position  on  his  seat, 
first  one  leg  crossed,  and  then  the  other,  but  he  never 
smiles  while  his  opponent  is  speaking.  He  sits  like  one 
of  those  marble  figures  in  the  British  Museum.  Disraeli 
has  furnished  more  fun  for  Punch  than  any  other  man 
in  the  empire.  » When  it  was  resolved  to  have  a  portrait 
of  the  late  Sir  R.  Peel  painted  for  the  government,  Mr. 
Gladstone  ordered  it  to  be  taken  from  one  that  appeared 
in  Punch  during  the  lifetime  of  that  great  statesman. 
This  was  indeed  a  compliment  to  the  sheet  of  fun.  But 
now  look  at  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  He  is  in 
the  midst  of  his  masterly  speech,  and  silence  reigns 
throughout  the  House. 

'*  His  words  of  learned  length  and  thundering  sound 
Amazed  the  gazing  rustics  ranged  around  ; 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        293 

And  still  they  gazed,  and  still  the  wonder  grew 
That  one  small  head  could  carry  all  he  knew." 

Let  us  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  gallery  in  which  we 
are  seated.  It  is  now  near  the  hour  of  twelve  at  night. 
The  question  before  the  House  is  an  interesting  one,  and 
has  called  together  many  distinguished  persons  as  visitors. 
There  sits  the  Hon.  and  Kev.  Baptist  W.  Noel.  He  is 
one  of  the  first  of  the  Nonconformist  ministers  in  the 
kingdom.  He  is  about  fifty  years  of  age  ;  very  tall,  and 
stands  erect ;  has  a  fine  figure,  complexion  fair,  face  long 
and  rather  pale,  eyes  blue  and  deeply  set.  He  looks 
every  inch  the  gentleman.  Near  by  Mr.  Noel  you  see 
the  Eev.  John  Gumming,  D.D.  We  stood  more  than 
an  hour  last  Sunday  in  his  chapel  in  Crown-court  to 
hear  him  preach ;  and  such  a  sermon  we  have  seldom 
ever  heard.  Dr.  Gumming  does  not  look  old.  He  has 
rather  a  bronzed  complexion,  with  dark  hair,  eyes  covered 
with  spectacles.  He  is  an  eloquent  man,  and  seems  to 
be  on  good  terms  with  himself.  .He  is  the  most  ultra 
Protestant  we  have  ever  heard,  and  hates  Rome  with  a 
perfect  vengeance.  Few  men  are  more  popular  in  an 
Exeter  Hall  meeting  than  Dr.  Gumming.  He  is  a  most 
prolific  writer ;  scarce  a  month  passes  by  without  some- 
thing from  his  pen.  But  they  are  mostly  works  of  a 
sectarian  character,  and  cannot  be  of  long  or  of  lasting 
reputation. 

Further  along  sits  a  man  still  more  eloquent  than  Dr. 
Gumming.  He  is  of  dark  complexion,  black  hair,  light 
blue  eyes,  an  intellectual  countenance^  and  when  stand- 
25^ 


294        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD. 

ing  looks  tall.^  It  is  the  Eev.  Henry  Melville.  He  is 
considered  the  finest  preacher  in  the  Church  of  England. 
TherC;  too,  is  Washington  Wilks,  Esq.,  author  of  '^  The 
Half-century."  His  face  is  so  covered  with  beard  that 
I  will  not  attempt  a  description;  it  may,  however,  be 
said  that  he  has  literally  entered  into  the  Beard  Move- 
nient. 

Come,  it  is  time  for  us  to  leave  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. Stop  a  moment !  Ah  !  there  is  one  that  I  have  not 
pointed  out  to  you.  Yonder  he  sits  amongst  the  tories. 
It  is  Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lytton,  the  renowned  novelist. 
Look  at  his  trim,  neat  figure ;  his  hair  done  up  in  the 
most  approved  manner;  his  clothes  cut  in  the  latest 
fashion.  He  has  been  in  Parliament  twenty-five  years. 
Until  the  abolition  of  the  corn-laws,  he  was  a  liberal; 
but  as  a  land-owner  he  was  opposed  to  free  trade,  and 
joined  the  protectionists.  He  has  two  country-seats,  and 
lives  in  a  style  of  oriental  magnificence  that  is  not 
equalled  by  any  other  man  in  the  kingdom ;  and  often 
gathers  around  him  the  brightest  spirits  of  the  age,  and 
presses  them  into  the  service  of  his  private  theatre,  of 
which  he  is  very  fond.  In  the  House  of  Commons  he  is 
seldom  heard,  but  is  always  listened  to  with  profound 
attention  when  he  rises  to  speak.  He  labors  under 
the  disadvantage  of  partial  deafness.  He  is  undoubtedly 
a  man  of  refined  taste,  and  pays  a  greater  attention  to 
the  art  of  dress  than  any  other  public  character  I 
have  ever  seen.  He  has  a  splendid  fortune,  and  his 
income  from  the  labors  of  his  pen  is  very  great.     His 


PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD.  295 

title  was  given  to  him  by  the  queen,  and  his  rank  as  a 

baronet  he  owes  to  his  high  literary  attainments.  Now 
take  a  farewell  view  of  this  assembly  of  senators.  You 
may  go  to  other  climes,  and  look  upon  the  representa- 
tives of  other  nations,  but  you  will  never  see  the  like 
again. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

"  Take  the  spade  of  Perseverance, 
Dig  the  field  of  Progress  wide  ; 
Every  bar  to  true  instruction 
Carry  out  and  cast  aside." 

The  anniversary  of  West  India  emancipation  was 
celebrated  here  on  Monday  last.  But  little  notice  of  the 
intended  meeting  had  been  given,  yet  the  capacious  lec- 
ture-room of  St.  Martin's  Hall  was  filled  at  an  early 
hour  with  a  most  respectable  audience,  who  appeared  to 
have  assembled  for  the  sake  of  the  cause. 

Our  old  and  well-tried  friend,  Geo.  Thompson,  Esq., 
was  unanimously  called  to  preside,  and  he  opened  the 
proceedings  with  one  of  his  characteristic  speeches.  The 
meeting  was  then  addressed  by  the  Rev.  Wm.  Douglass, 
a  colored  clergyman  of  Philadelphia,  in  a  most  eloquent 
and  feeling  manner.  Mr.  Douglass  jis  a  man  of  fine 
native  talent. 

Francis  W.  Kellogg,  of  the  United  States,  was  the 
next  speaker.  Mr.  Kellogg  is  an  advocate  of  temper- 
ance, of  some  note,  I  believe,  in  his  own  country,  and 
has  been  lecturing  with  considerable  success  in  Great 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        297 

Britain.  He  is  one  of  the  most  peculiar  speakers  I  have 
ever  heard.  Born  in  Massachusetts,  and  brought  up  in 
the  West,  he  has  the  intelligence  of  the  one  and  the 
roughness  of  the  other.  He  has  the  retentive  memory 
of  Wendell  PhillipSj  the  overpowering  voice  of  Frederick 
Douglass,  and  the  too  rapid  gestures  of  Dr.  Delany.  He 
speaks  faster  than  any  man  I  ever  heard,  except  C.  0. 
Burleigh.  Hisspeech,  which  lasted  more  than  an  hour, 
was  one  stream  of  fervid  eloquence.  He  gave  the  audi- 
ence a  better  idea  of  a  real  American  stump  orator  than 
they  ever  had  before.  Altogether,  he  is  the  best  specimen 
of  the  rough  material  out  of  which  great  public  speakers 
are  manufactured  that  I  have  yet  seen.  Mr.  Kellogg's 
denunciations  of  Clay  and  Webster  (the  dead  lion  and  the 
living  dog)  reminded  us  of  Wendell  Phillips ;  his  pictures 
of  slavery  called  to  memory  Frederick  Douglass  in  his 
palmiest  days  ;  and  his  rebuke  of  his  own  countrymen  for 
their  unchristian  prejudice  against  color  brought  before 
us  the  favorite  topic  and  best  speeches  of  0.  L.  Bemond. 
It  was  his  maiden  speech  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  yet 
it  was  the  speech  of  the  evening. 

Hatred  to  oppression  is  so  instilled  into  the  minds  of 
the  people  in  Great  Britain,  that  it  needs  but  little  to 
arouse  their  enthusiasm  to  its  highest  point ;  yet  they 
can  scarcely  comprehend  the  real  condition  of  the  slaves 
of  the  United  States.  They  have  heard  of  the  buying 
and  selling  of  men,  women  and  children,  without  any 
regard  to  the  tenderest  ties  of  nature ;  of  the  passage  and 
execution  of  the  infamous  Fugitive  Slave  Law ;  and,  as  we 


298  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE   ABEOAD. 

walk  through  the  streets  of  London,  they  occasionally 
meet  an  American  slave,  who  reminds  them  of  the  fact 
that  while  their  countrymen  are  boasting  of  their  liberty, 
and  offering  an  asylum  to  the  exiled  of  other  countries, 
they  refuse  it  to  their  own  citizens. 

Much  regret  has  been  expressed  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic  that  Kossuth  should  have  kept  so  silent  on  the 
slavery  question  while  in  America ;  and  this  act  alone 
has,  to  a  great  extent,  neutralized  his  further  operations 
in  this  country.  He  certainly  is  not  the  man  now  that 
he  was  before  his  visit  to  the  New  World. 

I  seldom  pass  through  the  Strand,  or  other  great 
thoroughfares  of  the  metropolis,  without  meeting  country- 
men of  mine.  I  encountered  one,  a  short  time  since,  under 
peculiar  circumstances.  It  was  one  of  those  days  com- 
monly experienced  in  London,  of  half  cloud  and  half 
sunshine,  with  just  fog  enough  to  give  everything  a 
gray  appearance,  that  I  was  loitering  through  Drury 
Lane,  and  came  upon  a  crowd  of  poor  people  and  street 
beggars,  who  were  being  edified  by  an  exhibition  of 
Punch  and  Judy,  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  organ- 
grinder,  with  a  well-dressed  and  intelligent-looking 
monkey,  on  the  other.  Punch  looked  happy,  and  was 
performing  with  great  alacrity,  while  the  organ-grinder, 
with  his  loud-toned  instrument,  was  furnishing  music  for 
the  million.  Pushing  my  way  through  the  crowd,  and 
takino;  the  middle  of  the  street  for  convenience'  sake,  I 
was  leaving  the  infected  district  in  greater  haste  than  I 
entered  it.     I  had  scarcely  taken  my  eyes  off  the  motley 


PLACES  AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD.  299 

group,  when  I  observ^ed  a  figure  approaching  me  from  the 
opposite  direction,  and  walking  with  a  somewhat  hasty 
step.  I  have  seen  so  much  oddity  in  dress,  and  the 
general  appearance  of  members  of  the  human  family,  that 
my  attention  is  seldom  ever  attracted  by  the  uncivilized 
look  of  any  one.  But  this  being  whom  I  was  meeting, 
and  whose  appearance  was  such  as  I  had  not  seen  before, 
threw  the  monkey  and  his  companions  entirely  in  the 
shade.  In  fact,  all  that  I  had  beheld  in  the  Great  Exhi- 
bition, of  a  ludicrous  nature,  dwindled  away  into  utter 
insignificance  when  compared  to  this  Robinson  Crusoe 
looking  man ;  for,  after  all,  it  turned  out  to  be  a  man. 
He  was  of  small  stature,  and,  although  not  a  cold  day,  his 
person  was  enveloped  in  a  heavy  over-coat,  which  looked 
as  if  it  had  seen  some  service,  and  had  passed  through 
the  hands  of  some  of  the  second-hand  gentlemen  of 
Brattle-street,  Boston.  The  trousers  I  did  not  see,  as 
they  were  benevolently  covered  by  the  long  skirts  of  the 
above  garment.  A  pair  of  patent-leather  boots  covered  a 
small  foot.  The  face  was  entirely  hidden  by  a  huge 
beard,  apparently  from  ten  to  fifteen  inches  in  length, 
and  of  a  reddish  color.  Long,  dark  hair  joined  the  beard, 
and  upon  the  head  was  thrown,  in  a  careless  manner,  one 
of  those  hats  known  in  America  as  the  wide-aw^ake,  but 
here  as  the  billy-cock.  A  pair  of  bright  eyes  w^ere 
entirely  hid  by  the  hair  around  the  face.  I  was  not 
more  attracted  by  his  appearance  than  astonished  at  the 
man's  stopping  before  me,  as  if  he  knew  me.  I  now  ob- 
served something  like  smoke  emanating  from  the  long 


800        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

beard  round  the  mouth.  I  was  immediately  seized  by  the 
individual  by  his  right  hand,  while  the  left  hand  took 
from  his  mouth  a  pipe  about  three  inches  in  length,  stem 
included,  and,  in  a  sharp,  shrill  voice,  sounding  as  if  it 
came  from  the  interior  of  a  hogshead  or  from  a  sepulchre, 
he  called  me  by  my  name.  I  stood  for  a  moment  and 
eyed  the  figure  from  head  to  foot,  ^^  from  top  to  toe,"  to 
see  if  I  could  discover  the  resemblance  of  any  one  I  had 
ever  seen  before.  After  satisfying  myself  that  the  object 
was  new,  I  said,  ''  Sir,  you  have  the  advantage  of  me.'^ 
^'  Don't  you  know  me  7  ''  he  exclaimed,  in  a  still  louder 
voice.     I  looked  again,  and  shook  my  head.     '^  Why," 

said  he,  '^  it  is  0 ."     I  stepped  back  a  few  feet,  and 

viewed  him  once  more  from  top  to  bottom,  and  replied, 

^'You  don't  mean   to   say  that  this  is  H.   C ?" 

'^  Yes,  it  is  he,  and  nobody  else."  After  taking  another 
look,  I  said,  ^^  An't  you  mistaken,  sir,  about  this  being 
H.  C ?  "  ^'  No,"  said  he,  ^^  I  am  sure  I  know  my- 
self." ^  So  I  very  reluctantly  had  to  admit  that  I  was 
standing  in  presence  of  the  ex-editor  of  the  ^'L.  P.  and 
H.  of  F."  Indeed,  one  meets  with  strange  faces  in  a 
walk  through  the  streets  of  London.  But  I  must  turn 
again  to  the  question  of  slavery. 

Some  .  months  since  a  lady,  apparently  not  more  than 
fifty  years  of  age,  entered  a  small  dwelling  on  the  estate 
of  the  Earl  of  Lovelace,  situated  in  the  county  of  ^urrey. 
After  ascending  a  flight  of  stairs,  and  passing  through  a 
narrow  passage,  she  found  herself  in  a  small  but  neat 
room,  with  plain  furniture.     On  the  table  lay  copies  of 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAB.        301 

the  Liberator  and  Frederick  Douglass'^  Paper,  Near 
the  window  sat  a  young  woman,  busily  engaged  in  sew- 
ing, w^ith  a  spelling-book  laying  open  on  her  lap.  The 
light  step  of  the  stranger  had  not  broken  the  silence 
enough  to  announce  the  approach  of  any  one,  and  the 
young  woman  still  sat  at  her  task,  unconscious  that  any 
one  was  near.  A  moment  or  two,  and  the  lady  was  ob- 
served, when  the  diligent  student  hastily  rose,  and  apolo- 
gized for  her  apparent  inattention.  The  stranger  was 
soon  seated,  and  in  conversation  with  the  young  woman. 
The  lady  had  often  heard  the  word  ^' slave,"  and  knew 
something  of  its  application,  but  had  never  before  seen 
one  of  her  own  sex  who  had  actually  been  born  and 
brought  up  in  a  state  of  chattel  slavery ;  and  the  one 
in  whose  company  she  now  was  was  so  white,  and  had  so 
much  the  appearance  of  an  educated  and  well-bred  lady, 
that  she  could  scarcely  realize  that  she  was  in  the  pres- 
ence of  an  American  slave.  For  more  than  an  hour  the 
iMstrious  lady  and  the  poor  exile  sat  and  carried  on  a 
most  familiar  conversation.  The  thrilling  story  of  the 
fugitive,  often  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  stranger. 
0,  how  I  would  that  every  half-bred,  aristocratic, 
slave-holding,  ^jnan-whipping,  negro-hating  woman  of 
America  could '^have  been  present  and  heard  what  passed 
between  these  tvfo  distinguished  persons  !  They  would, 
for  once,  have  seen  one  who,  though  moving  in  the  most 
elevated  and  aristocratic  society  in  Europe,  felt  it  an 
honor  to  enter  the  small  cottage  and  take  a  seat  by  the 
side  of  a  poor,  hunted  and  exiled  American  fugitive  slave. 
26 


302  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

Let  it  be  rung  in  the  ears  of  the  thin-skinued  aristocracy 
of  the  United  States,  who  would  rather  receive  a  flogging 
from  the  cat-o' -nine-tails  than  to  sit  at  the  table  of  a 
negro,  that  Lady  Noel  Byron,  widow  of  the  great  poet, 
felt  it  a  peculiar  pleasure  to  sit  at  the  table  and  take  tea 
with  Ellen  Craft.  It  must,  indeed,  be  an  interesting 
fact  to  the  reader,  and  especially  to  those  who  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  facts  connected  with  the  life  and  escape 
of  William  and  Ellen  Craft,  to  know  that  they  are  indus- 
trious students  in  a  school,  and  attracting  the  attention 
of  persons  occupying  the  most  influential  positions  in 
society.  The  wonderful  escape  of  William  and  Ellen 
Craft  is  still  fresh  in  the  minds  of  all  who  take  an  inter- 
est in  the  cause  of  humanity ;  and  their  eluding  the  pur- 
suit of  the  slave-hunters  at  Boston,  and  final  escape  from 
the  Athens  of  the  New  World,  will  not  be  soon  forgotten. 
Every  American  should  feel  a  degree  of  humiliation 
when  the  thought  occurs  to  him  that  there  is  not  a  foot 
of  soil  over  which  the  Stars  and  Stripes  wave  upon 
which  Ellen  Craft  can  stand  and  be  protected  by  the 
constitution  or  laws  of  the  country.  Yet  Ellen  Craft 
is  as  white  as  most  white  women.  Had  she  escaped 
from  Austrian  tyranny,  and  landed  on  the  shores  of 
America,  her  reception  would  have  been  scarcely  less 
enthusiastic  than  that  which  greeted  the  arrival  of 
Jenny  Lind.  But  Ellen  Craft  had  the  n^isfortune  to  be 
born  in  one  of  the  Slave  States  of  the  American  Union, 
and  that  was  enough  to  cause  her  to  be  driven  into  exih 
for  daring  to  escape  from  American  despotism. 


CHAPTER     XXXII 


-when  I  left  tlie  shore. 


The  distant  shore,  which  gave  me  birth, 
I  hardly  thought  to  grieve  once  more, 
To  quit  another  spot  on  earth." 

Byron. 

What  a  change  five  years  make  in  one's  history ! 
The  summer  of  1849  found  me  a  stranger  in  a  foreign 
land,  unknown  to  its  inhabitants ;  its  laws,  customs  and 
history,  were  a  blank  to  me.  But  how  different  the  sum- 
mer of  1854  !  During  my  sojourn  I  had  travelled  over 
nearly  every  railroad  in  England  and  Scotland,  and  had 
visited  Ireland  and  Wales,  besides  spending  some  weeks 
on  the  continent.  I  had  become  so  well  acquainted  with 
the  British  people  and  their  history,  that  I  had  begun  to 
fancy  myself  an  Englishman  by  habit,  if  not  by  birth. 
The  treatment  which  I  had  experienced  at  their  hands 
had  endeared  them  to  me,  and  caused  me  to  feel  myself 
at  home  wherever  I  went.  Under  such  circumstances,  it 
was  not  strange  that  I  commenced  with  palpitating  heart 
the  preparation  to  return  to  my  native  land.  Native 
land !  How  harshly  that  word  sounds  to  my  ears ! 
True,  America  was  the  land  of  my  birth ;  my  grand- 


304  PLACES   AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

father  had  taken  part  in  her  Revolution,  had  enriched  the 
soil  with  his  blood,  yet  upon  this  soil  I  had  been  worked 
as  a  slave.  I  seem  still  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  auc- 
tioneer's rough  voice,  as  I  stood  on  the  block  in  the 
slave-market  at  St.  Louis.  I  shall  never  forget  the  sav- 
age grin  with  which  he  welcomed  a  higher  bid,  when  he 
thought  that  he  had  received  the  last  offer.  I  had  seen 
a  mother  sold  and  taken  to  the  cotton-fields  of  the  far 
South ;  three  brothers  had  been  bartered  to  the  soul- 
driver  in  my  presence ;  a  dear  sister  had  been  sold  to  the 
negro-dealer,  and  driven  away  by  him ;  I  had  seen  the 
rusty  chains  fastened  upon  her  delicate  wrists ;  the  whip 
had  been  applied  to  my  own  person,  and  the  marks  of 
the  brutal  driver's  lash  were  still  on  my  body.  Yet  this 
was  my  native  land,  and  to  this  land  was  I  about  to 
embark. 

In  Edinburgh,  I  had  become  acquainted  with  the 
Wighams  ;  in  Glasgow,  the  Patons  and  Smeals ;  in  Man- 
chester, the  Langdons  ;  in  Newcastle,  the  Mawsons  and 
Richardsons.  To  Miss  Ellen  Richardson,  of  this  place,  I 
was  mainly  indebted  for  the  redemption  of  my  body  from 
slavery,  and  the  privilege  of  again  returning  to  my  na- 
tive country.  I  had  also  met,  and  become  acquainted 
w^ith,  John  Bishop  Estlin,  Esq.,  of  Bristol,  and  his  kind- 
hearted  and  accomplished  daughter.  Of  the  hundreds 
of  British  Abolitionists  with  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
shaking  hands  while  abroad,  I  know  of  none  whose  hearts 
beat  more  fervently  for  the  emancipation  of  the  American 
slave  than  Mr.  Estlin's.     He  is  indeed  a  model  Chris- 


PLACES   AND    PEOPLE   ABROAD.  306 

tian.  His  house,  his  heart  and  his  purse,  were  always 
open  to  the  needy,  without  any  regard  to  sect,  color  or 
country.  When  those  distinguished  fugitive  slaves,  Wil- 
liam and  Ellen  Craft,  arrived  in  England,  unknown  and 
without  friends,  Mr.  Estlin  wrote  to  me  and  said,  ^'If 
the  Crafts  are  in  want,  send  to  me.  If  you  cannot  find 
a  home  for  them,  let  them  come  to  Bristol,  and  I  will 
keep  them,  at  my  expense,  until  something  better  turns 
up."  And  nobly  did  he  keep  his  word.  He  put  the 
two  fugitives  in  school,  and  saw  that  they  did  not  want 
for  the  means  of  support.  I  have  known  him  to  keep 
concealed  what  he  had  given  to  benevolent  objects.  To 
Mr.  Estlin  I  am  indebted  for  many  acts  of  kindness ;  and 
now  that  the  broad  Atlantic  lies  between  us,  and  in  all 
probability  we  shall  never  again  meet  on  earth,  it  is  with 
heartfelt  gratitude  and  pleasure  that  I  make  this  men- 
tion of  him. 

And  last,  though  not  the  least,  I  had  become  inti- 
mate with  that  most  generous-hearted  philanthropist, 
George  Thompson,  who  never  feels  so  well  as  when  giv- 
ing a  welcome  to  an  American  fugitive  slave.  I  had 
spent  hours  at  the  hospitable  firesides  of  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau,  E.  D.  Webb,  and  other  distinguished  authors. 
You  will  not,  reader,  think  it  strange  that  my  heart  be- 
came sad  at  the  thought  of  leaving  all  these  dear  friends, 
to  return  to  a  country  in  which  I  had  spent  some  of  the 
best  days  of  my  life  as  a  slave,  and  where  I  knew  that 
prejudice  would  greet  me  on  my  arrival. 

Most  of  the  time  I  had  resided  in  London.  Its  streets, 
26^ 


306        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABKOAD. 

parks,  public  buildings  and  its  fog,  bad  become  ^'as 
familiar  as  household  words.''  I  had  heard  the  deep, 
bass  voice  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  in  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral. I  had  sat  in  Westminster  Abbey,  until  I  had  lost 
all  interest  in  the  services,  and  then  wandered  about 
amongst  the  monuments,  reading  the  epitaphs  placed 
over  the  dead.  Like  others,  I  had  been  locked  in  the 
Temple  Church,  and  compelled  to  wait  till  service  was 
over,  whether  I  liked  it  or  not.  I  had  spent  days  in  the 
British  Museum  and  National  Gallery,  and  in  all  these 
I  had  been  treated  as  a  man.  The  ''negro  pew,"  which 
I  had  seen  in  the  churches  of  America,  was  not  to  be 
found  in  the  churches  of  London.  There,  too,  were  my 
daughters.  They  who  had  been  denied  education  upon 
equal  terms  with  children  of  a  fairer  complexion,  in  the 
United  States,  had  been  received  in  the  London  schools 
upon  terms  of  perfect  equality.  They  had  accompanied 
me  to  most  of  the  noted  places  in  the  metropolis.  We 
had  strolled  through  Eegent-street,  the  Strand,  Picca- 
dilly and  Oxford-street,  so  often,  that  sorrow  came  over 
me  as  the  thought  occurred  to  me  that  I  should  never 
behold  them  again. 

Then  the  English  manner  of  calling  on  friends  before 
one's  departure.  I  can  meet  an  enemy  with  pleasure, 
but  it  is  with  regret  that  I  part  with  a  friend.  As  the 
time  for  me  to  leave  drew  near,  I  felt  more  clearly  my 
identity  with  the  English  people.  By  and  by  the  last 
hour  arrived  that  I  was  to  spend  in  London.  The  cab 
stood  at  the  door,  with  my  trunks  on  its  top ;  and;  bid- 


PLACES  AND   PEOPLE   ABROAD.  307 

ding  the  household^' good-by,"  I  entered  the  vehicle, 
the  driver  raised  his  whip,  and  I  looked  for  the  last  time 
on  my  old  home  in  Cecil-street.  As  we  turned  into  the 
Strand,  Nelson's  monument,  in  Trafalgar-square,  greeted 
me  on  the  left,  and  Somerset  House  on  the  right.  I 
took  a  farewell  look  at  Covent  Garden  Market,  through 
whose  walks  I  had  often  passed,  and  where  I  had  spent 
many  pleasant  hours.  My  youngest  daughter  was  in 
France,  but  the  eldest  met  me  at  the  depot,  and  after  a 
few  moments  the  bell  rang,  and  away  we  went. 

As  the  train  was  leaving  the  great  metropolis  of  the 
world  behind,  I  caught  a  last  view  of  the  dome  of  St. 
Paul's,  and  the  old  pile  of  Westminster  Abbey. 

In  every  town  through  which  we  passed  on  our  way  to 
Liverpool  I  could  call  to  mind  the  name  of  some  one 
whose  acquaintance  I  had  made,  and  whose  hospitality  I 
had  shared.  The  steamer  City  of  Manchester  had  her 
fires  kindled  when  we  arrived,  and  we  went  immediately 
on  board.  We  found  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  pas- 
sengers in  the  cabin,  and  above  five  hundred  in  the 
steerage.  After  some  delay,  the  ship  weighed  anchor, 
the  machinery  was  put  in  motion,  and,  bidding  Liverpool 
a  long  farewell,  the  vessel  moved  down  the  Mersey,  and 
was  in  a  short  time  out  at  sea.  The  steam  tender  accom- 
panied the  ship  about  thirty  miles,  during  which  time 
search  was  made  throughout  the  Manchester  to  see  that 
no  ''  stow-aways  "  were  on  board.  No  vessel  ever  leaves 
an  English  port  without  some  one  trying  to  get  his  pas- 
sage out  without  pay.     When  the  crew  are  at  work,  or 


808        PLACES  AHB  PEOPLE  ABEOAD. 

not  on  the  'watch,  these  persons  come  on  board,  hide 
themselves  under  the  berths  in  the  steerage  cabin,  or 
amongst  the  freight,  until  the  vessel  is  out  to  sea,  and 
then  they  come  out.  As  they  are  always  poor  persons, 
without  either  baggage  or  money,  they  succeed  in  get- 
ting their  passage  without  giving  anything  in  return.  As 
the  tender  was  about  quitting  us  to  return  to  Liverpool, 
it  came  along-side  to  take  on  board  those  who  had  come 
with  the  vessel  to  see  their  friends  off.  Any  number  of 
/  white  napkins  were  called  into  requisition,  as  friends 
were  shaking  hands  with  each  other,  and  renewing  their 
promises  to  write  by  the  first  post.  One  young  man 
had  come  out  to  spend  a  few  more  hours  with  a  hand- 
some Scotch  lass,  with  whom  he,  no  doubt,  had  a  matri- 
monial engagement.  Another,  an  English  lady,  seemed 
much  affected  when  the  last  bell  of  the  tender  rung,  and 
the  captain  cried  ^'All  on  board."  Having  no  one  to 
look  after,  I  found  time  to  survey  others.  The  tender  let 
go  her  cables  amid  three  hearty  cheers,  and  a  deafening 
salute  from  the  two-pounder  on  board  the  City  of  Man- 
chester. A  moment  more,  and  the  two  steamers  were 
leaving  each  other  with  rapid  speed.  The  two  young 
ladies  of  whom  I  have  already  made  mention,  together 
w^ith  many  others,  had  their  faces  buried  in  their  hand- 
kerchiefs, and  appeared  to  be  dying  with  grief.  How- 
ever, all  of  them  seemed  to  get  over  it  very  soon.  On 
the  second  day  out  at  sea  I  saw  the  young  English  lady 
walking  the  quarter-deck  with  a  fine-looking  gentleman, 
and  holding  as  tightly  to  his  arm  as  if  she  had  left  no 


PLACES   AND   PEOPLE   ABKOAD.  309 

one  behind  ;  and  as  for  the  Scotch  lass,  she  was  seated  on 
a  settee  with  a  countryman  of  hers,  who  had  made  her  ac- 
quaintance on  board,  and,  from  all  appearance,  had  entirely 
forgotten  her  first  love,  ^uch  is  the  waywardness  of  man 
and  woman,  and  the  unfaithfulness  of  the  human  heart. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  second  day  a  storm  overtook, 
us,  and  for  the  ten  succeeding  days  we  scarcely  knew 
whether  we  were  on  our  heads  or  our  heels.  The 
severest  part  of  the  gale  was  on  the  eighth  and  ninth 
nights  out.  On  one  of  those  evenings  a  fellow-room- 
mate came  in  and  said,  ^'  If  you  wish  to  see  a  little  fun, 
go  into  the  forward  steerage."  It  was  about  eight 
o'clock,  and  most  of  the  passengers  were  either  in  bed, 
or  preparing  for  the  night's  rest,  such  as  is  to  be  had  on 
board  a  ship  in  a  gale  of  wind.  This  cabin  contained 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  persons;  some  Germans, 
some  Irish,  and  twenty-five  or  thirty  Gypsies.  Forty 
or  fifty  of  these  were  on  their  knees  in  their  berths,  en- 
gaged in  prayer.  No  camp-meeting  ever  presented  a 
more  noisy  spectacle  than  did  this  cabin.  The  ship  was 
rolling,  and  the  sea  running  mountains  high,  and  many 
of  these  passengers  had  given  up  all  hope  of  ever  seeing 
land  again.  The  Gypsies  were  foremost  amongst  those 
who  were  praying ;  indeed,  they  seemed  to  fancy  them- 
selves in  a  camp-meeting,  for  many  of  them  shouted  at 
the  top  of  their  voices.  One  of  them,  known  as  the 
^^  Queen  of  the  Gypsies,"  came  to  me  and  said,  ^'  0,  Mas- 
ter !  do  get  down  and  help  us  to  ask  God  to  stop  the 
wind  !     You  are  a  black  man ;  may  be  he  '11  pay  more 


310        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

attention  to  what  you  say.  Now  do,  master,  do  !  and 
when  the  storm  is  over  I  will  tell  your  fortune  for 
nothing."  At  this  juncture  one  of  the  chests  which  had 
been  fastened  to  the  floor  broke  away  from  its  moorings, 
and  came  sliding  across  the  cabin  at  the  rate  of  about 
twenty  miles  per  hour ;  soon  another  got  loose,  and  these 
two  locomotives  broke  up  the  prayer-meeting.  Trunk 
after  trunk  became  unfastened,  until  some  eight  or  ten 
were  crossing  the  cabin  every  time  the  vessel  went  over. 
At  last  the  loose  boxes  upset  the  tables,  on  which  were 
some  of  the  passengers'  eatables,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
whole  cabin  was  in  splendid  confusion.  The  lamps,  one 
after  another,  were  knocked  down  and  extinguished,  so 
that  the  cabin  was  in  total  darkness.  As  I  turned  to 
retrace  my  steps,  I  heard  the  company  joining  in  the 
prayer,  and  I  was  informed  the  next  day  that  it  was 
kept  up  during  most  of  the  night. 

With  all  the  watchfulness  on  the  day  of  sailing,  sev- 
eral persons  succeeded  in  stowing  themselves  away.  First 
one  came  out,  and  then  another,  until  not  less  than  five 
made  their  appearance  on  deck.  As  fast  as  these  men 
were  discovered  they  were  put  to  work ;  so  that  labor,  if 
not  money,  might  be  obtained  for  their  passage.  On  the 
sixth  day  out  I  missed  a  small  leather  trunk,  and  search 
was  immediately  made  in  every  direction,  but  no  tidings 
of  it  could  be  found.  However,  after  its  being  lost  two 
days,  I  offered  a  reward  for  its  recovery,  and  it  was  soon 
found,  hid  away  in  the  forecastle.  It  had  been  broken 
open,  and  a  few  things,  together  with  a  little  money,  had 


PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD.        311 

been  taken.  The  ships  Chieftain  and  Harmony  were  the 
only  vessels  we  met  during  the  first  ten  days.  An  ice- 
berg made  its  appearance  while  we  were  on  the  banks, 
but  it  was  some  distance  to  the  larboard. 

After  a  longi  passage  of  twenty  days  we  arrived  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Delaware,  and  took  a  pilot  on  board.  The 
passengers  were  now  all  life  ;  the  Irish  were  basking  in 
the  sun,  the  Germans  were  singing,  and  the  Gypsies 
were  dancing.  Some  fifteen  miles  below  Philadelphia, 
the  ofiicers  came  on  board,  to  see  that  no  sickness  was  on 
the  vessel ;  and,  after  being  passed  by  the  doctors,  each 
person  began  to  get  his  luggage  on  deck,  and  prepare  to 
go  on  shore.  About  four  o'clock,  on  the  twenty-sixth 
day  of  September,  1854,  the  City  of  Manchester  hauled 
alongside  the  Philadelphia  wharf,  and  the  passengers  all 
on  the  move ;  the  Scotch  lass  clinging  to  the  arm  of 
her  new  Highland  laddie,  and  the  young  English  lady  in 
company  with  her  ^'  fresh  "  lover.  It  is  a  dangerous 
thing  to  allow  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to  separate  one  from 
his  or  her  ^^affectionate  friend."  The  City  of  Manches- 
ter, though  not  a  fast  steamer,  is,  nevertheless,  a  safe 
one.  Her  ofiicers  are  men  of  experience  and  activity. 
Captain  Wyly  was  always  at  his  post ;  the  first  ofiicer 
was  an  able  seaman,  and  Mr.  John  Mirehouse,  the  sec- 
ond officer,  was  a  mo^t  gentlemanly  and  obliging,  as  well 
as  experienced  officer.  To  this  gentleman  I  am  much 
indebted  for  kind  attention  shown  me  on  the  voyage.  I 
had  met  him  on  a  former  occasion  at  Whitehaven.  He 
is  a  stanch  friend  of  humanity. 


312  PLACES  AND   PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

At  Philadelphia  I  met  with  a  most  cordial  reception 
at  the  hands  of  the  Motts,  J.  M.  M'Kim,  the  Stills,  the 
FortenSj  and  that  distinguished  gentleman  and  friend  of 
the  slave,  Robert  Purvis,  Esq.  There  is  no  colored  man 
in  this  country  to  whom  the  Anti-slavery  cause  is  more 
indebted  than  to  Mr.  Purvis.  Endowed  with  a  capa- 
cious and  reflective  mind,  he  is  ever  in  search  after 
truth ;  and,  consequently,  all  reforms  find  in  him  an 
able  and  devoted  advocate.  Inheriting  a  large  fortune, 
he  has  had  the  means,  as  well  as  the  will,  to  do  good. 
Few  men  in  this  country,  either  colored  or  white,  possess 
the  rare  accomplishments  of  Robert  Purvis.  In  no  city 
in  the  Free  States  does  the  Anti-slavery  movement  have 
more  bitter  opponents  than  in  Philadelphia.  Close  to 
two  of  our  Southern  States,  and  connected  as  it  is  in  a 
commercial  point  of  view,  it  could  scarcely  be  otherwise. 
Colorphobia  is  more  rampant  there  than  in  the  pro- 
slavery,  negro-hating  city  of  New  York.  I  was  not 
destined  to  escape  this  unnatural  and  anti-christian  preju- 
dice. While  walking  through  Chestnut-street,  in  company 
with  two  of  my  fellow-passengers,  we  hailed  an  omnibus 
going  in  the  direction  which  we  wished  to  go.  It  imme- 
diately stopped,  and  the  white  men  were  furnished  with 
seats,  but  I  was  told  that  '^  We  don't  allow  niggers  to 
ride  in  here.''  It  so  happened  that  these  two  persons 
had  rode  in  the  same  car  with  me  from  London  to  Liv- 
erpool. We  had  put  up  at  the  same  hotel  at  the  latter 
place,  and  had  crossed  the  Atlantic  in  the  same  steamer. 
But  as  soon  as  we  touch  the  soil  of  America  we  can  no 


PLACES   A^D    PEOrLE    zVBROAD.  313 

longer  ride  in  tlie  same  conveyancCj  no  longer  eat  at  the 
same  table,  or  be  regarded  with  equal  justice,  by  our 
thin-skinned  democracj.  During  five  years'  residence 
in  monarchical  Europe  I  had  enjoyed  the  rights  allowed 
to  all  foreigners  in  the  countries  through  which  I  passed ; 
but  on  returning  to  my  native  land  the  influence  of 
slavery  meets  me  the  first  day  that  I  am  in  the  country. 
Had  I  been  an  escaped  felon,  like  John  Mitchell,  no  one 
would  have  questioned  my  right  to  a  seat  in  a  Phila- 
delphia omnibus.  Neither  of  the  foreigners  who  were 
allowed  to  ride  in  this  carriage  had  ever  visited  our 
country  before.  The  constitution  of  these  United  States 
was  as  a.  blank  to  them ;  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence, in  all  probability,  they  had  never  seen,—  much  less, 
read.  But  what  mattered  it?  They  vfere  white,  and 
that  was  enough.  The  fact  of  my  being  an  American 
by  birth  could  not  be  denied ;  that  I  had  read  and  un- 
derstood the  constitution  and  laws,  the  most  pro-slavery, 
negro-hating  professor  of  Christianity  would  admit :  but 
I  was  colored,  and  that  was  enough,  I  had  partaken 
of  the  hospitality  of  noblemen  in  England,  had  sat  at 
tlie  table  of  the  French  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  ; 
I  had  looked  from  the  strangers'  gallery  down  upon  the 
great  legislators  of  England,  as  they  sat  in  the  House  of 
Commons ;  I  had  stood  in  the  House  of  Lords,  when 
Her  Britannic  Majesty  prorogued  her  Parliament ;  I  had 
eaten  at  the  same  table  with  Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lyt= 
ton,  Charles  Dickens,  Eliza  Cook,  Alfred  Tennyson,  and 
the  son-in-law  of  Sir  Walter  Scott :  the  omnibuses  of 
27 


314        PLACES  AND  PEOPLE  ABROAD. 

PariSj  Edinburghj  Glasgow  and  Liverpool,  had  stopped  to 
take  me  up ;  I  had  often  entered  the  ^'Caledonia,'' 
^  ^  Bayswater, "  ' '  Hammersmith, "  ' '  Chelsea, "  ^  ^  Blue- 
bell," and  other  omnibuses  that  rattle  over  the  pave- 
ments of  Regent-street,  Cheapside,  and  the  west  end  of 
London,- — but  what  mattered  that?  My  face  was  not 
white,  my  hair  was  not  straight ;  and,  therefore,  I  must 
be  excluded  from  a  seat  in  a  third-rate  American  omni- 
bus. Slavery  demanded  that  it  should  be  so.  I  charge 
this  prejudice  to  the  pro-slavery  pulpits  of  our  land, 
which  first  set  the  example  of  proscription  by  erecting  in 
their  churches  the  ^' negro  pew.'^  I  charge  it  to  that 
hypocritical  profession  of  democracy  which  will  welcome 
fugitives  from  other  countries,  and  drive  its  own  into 
exile.  I  charge  it  to  the  recreant  sons  of  'the  men  who 
carried  on  the  American  revolutionary  war,  and  who 
come  together  every  fourth  of  July  to  boast  of  what 
their  fathers  did,  while  they,  their  sons,  have  become 
associated  with  bloodhounds,  to  be  put  at  any  moment  on 
the  track  of  the  fugitive  slave. 

But  I  had  returned  to  the  country  for  the  express 
purpose  of  joining  in  the  glorious  battle  against  slavery, 
of  which  this  Negrophobia  is  a  legitimate  offspring.  And 
why  not  meet  it  in  its  stronghold  ?  I  might  have  re- 
mained in  a  country  where  my  manhood  was  never 
denied ;  I  might  have  remained  in  ease  in  other  climes ; 
but  what  was  ease  and  comfort  abroad,  while  more  than 
three  millions  of  my  countrymen  were  groaning  in  the 
prison-house  of  slavery  in  the  Southern  States  ?    Yes,  I 


PLACES    AXD    PEOPLE    ABROAD.  315 

eame  back  to  the  land  of  my  nativity,  not  to  be  a  spec- 
tator, but  a  soldiei'  —  a  soldier  in  this  moral  warfare 
against  the  most  cruel  system  of  oppression  that  ever 
blackened  the  character  or  hardened  the  heart  of  man. 
And  the  smiles  of  my  old  associates,  and  the  approval 
of  my  course  ^ile  abroad  by  my  colored  fellow-citi- 
zens, has  amply  compensated  me  for  the  twenty  days' 
rough  passage  on  my  return. 


OPINIONS   OF  THE  BRITISH   PRESS. 


**  While  all  the  world  is  reading  «  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,'  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible that  what  a  real  fugitive  slave  has  to  say  for  himself  may  meet 
with  less  attention  than  it  deserves.  Mr.  Brown's  book  is  pleasingly 
written."—  The  Critic,  Dec.  16,  1852. 

"  When  he  writes  on  the  wrongs  of  his  race,  or  the  events  of  his  own 
career,  he  is  always  interesting  or  amusing."— TAe  AthencBum^  l^oVo 
15,  1852. 

**  The  appearance  of  this  book  is  too  remarkable  a  literary  event  to 
pass  without  a  notice.  At  the  moment  when  attention  in  this  country  is 
directed  to  the  state  of  the  colored  people  in  America,  the  book  appears 
with  additional  advantage  ;  if  nothing  else  were  attained  by  its  pub- 
lication, it  is  well  to  have  another  proof  of  the  capability  of  the  negro 
intellect.  Altogether,  Mr.  Brown  has  written  a  pleasing  and  amusing 
volume.  Contrasted  with  the  caricature  and  bombast  of  his  white  coun- 
tryman Mr.  Willis'  description  of  *  People  he  has  Met,'  a  comparison 
suggested  by  the  similarity  of  the  title,  it  is  both  in  intellect  and  in 
style  a  superior  performance,  and  we  are  glad  to  bear  this  testimony  to 
the  literary  merit  of  a  work  by  a  negro  author." —  The  Literary  Gazette, 
Oct.  2, 1852. 

"  That  a  man  who  was  a  slave  for  the  first  twenty  years  of  his  life, 
and  who  has  never  had  a  day's  schooling,  should  produce  such  a  book 
as  this,  cannot  but  astonish  those  who  speak  disparagingly  of  the  Afri- 
can race." —  The  Weekly  News  and  Chronicle,  Sept.  6, 1852. 

"  It  is  something  new  for  a  self-educated  slave  to  publish  such  a  work, 

27* 


318  OPINIONS    OF    THE   BRITISH    PRESS. 

It  is  really  wonderful  how  one  v/ho  has  had  to  surmount  so  many  diffi- 
culties in  his  literary  career  should  have  been  able  to  produce  a  volume 
of  so  sparkling  a  character.  The  author  is  personally  known  to  many 
of  our  readers,  and,  therefore,  we  need  not  enlarge  respecting  his  abili- 
ties or  his  merits.  We  recommend  them  to  procure  his  book,  and  are 
induced  to  do  so  by  the  consideration  that  his  main  object  in  bringing 
out  the  work  is  to  enable  him  to  educate  his  family  ;  an  object  at  ail 
times  honorable  and  praiseworthy,  but  in  one  occupying  the  position 
of  William  Wells  Brown  eminently  commendable,  and  in  which  every 
friend  of  humanity  must  wish  him  success." — British  Friend,  Aug.  1852. 

*<  This  remarkable  book  of  a  remarkable  man  cannot  fail  to  add  to  the 
practical  protests  already  entered  in  Britain  against  the  absolute  bond- 
age of  three  millions  of  our  fellow-creatures.  The  impressions  of  a  self- 
educated  son  of  slavery,  here  set  forth,  must  hasten  the  period  when  the 
senseless  and  impious  denial  of  common  claims  to  a  common  humanity, 
on  the  score  of  color,  shall  be  scouted  with  scorn  in  every  civilized  and 
Christian  country.  And  when  this  shall  be  attained,  among  the  means 
of  destruction  of  the  hideous  abomination  his  compatriots  will  remem- 
ber with  respect  and  gratitude  the  doings  and  sayings  of  William  Wells 
Brown.  The  volume  consists  of  a  sujGTicient  variety  of  scenes,  persons, 
arguments,  inferences,  speculations  and  opinions,  to  satisfy  and  amuse 
the  most  exigeant  of  those  who  read  pour  se  desennuyer;  while  those  who 
look  deeper  into  things,  and  view  with  anxious  hope  the  progress  of 
nations  and  of  mankind,  will  feel  that  the  good  cause  of  humanity  and 
freedom,  of  Christianity,  enlightenment  and  brotherhood,  cannot  fail  to 
be  served  by  such  a  book  as  this."  — Morning  Advertiser,  Sept.  10,  1852. 

**  He  writes  with  ease  and  ability,  and  his  intelligent  observations 
upon  the  great  ciuestion  to  which  he  has  devoted  and  is  devoting  his 
life  will  be  read  with  interest,  and  will  command  influence  and  respect." 
—  Daily  News,  Sept.  2-4,  1852. 

"  The  extraordinary  excitement  produced  by  *  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin ' 
will,  we  hope,  prepare  the  public  of  Great  Britain  and  America  for  this 
lively  book  of  travels  by  a  real  fugitive  slave.  Though  he  never  had  a 
day's  schooling  in  his  life,  he  has  produced  a  literary  work  not  unwor- 
thy of  a  highly-educated  gentleman.  Our  readers  will  find  in  these  let- 
ters much  instruction,  not  a  little  entertainment,  and  the  beatings  of  a 


OPINIONS    OF   THE    BRITISH    PRESS.  819 

manly  heart,  on  behalf  of  a  down-trodden  race,  with  which  they  will  not 
fail  to  sympathize." — The  Eclectic  Review,  Nov.  1852. 

"  We  have  read  this  book  with  an  unusual  measure  of  interest.  Sel- 
dom, indeed,  have  we  met  with  anything  more  captivating.  It  somehow 
happens  that  all  these  fugitive  slaves  are  persons  of  superior  talents. 
The  pith  of  the  volume  consists  in  narratives  of  voyages  and  journeys 
made  by  the  author  in  England,  Scotland,  Ireland  and  France  ;  and  we 
can  assure  our  readers  that  Mr.  Brown  has  travelled  to  some  purpose. 
The  number  of  white  men  is  not  great  who  could  have  made  more  of  the 
many  things  that  came  before  them.  There  is  in  the  work  a  vast 
amount  of  quotable  matter,  which,  but  for  want  of  space,  we  should  be 
glad  to  extract.  As  the  volume,  however,  is  published  with  a  view  to 
promote  the  benefit  of  the  interesting  fugitive,  we  deem  it  better  to  give 
a  general  opinion,  by  v/hich  curiosity  may  be  whetted,  than  to  gratify  it 
by  large  citation.  A  book  more  worth  the  money  has  not,  for  a  consid- 
erable time,  come  into  our  hands." — British  Banner,  Dec.  15,  1852. 

"  Three  Years  ix  Europe.  —  The  remarkable  man  who  is  the  author 
of  this  work  is  not  unknown  to  many  of  our  readers.  He  was  received 
with  kindness  in  this  city,  and  honored  with  various  marks  of  respect 
by  many  eminent  characters  in  the  sister  country.  Since  his  arrival 
Mr.  Brown  has  contributed  much  to  the  press  ;  and  the  work  before  us, 
though  small  and  unpretending,  is  of  a  high  character,  and  evinces  a 
superior  and  cultivated  mind." —  Dublin  General  Advertiser,  October 
30,  1852. 

"  This  is  a  thrilling  book,  independent  of  adventitious  circumstances, 
which  will  enhance  its  popularity.  The  author  of  it  is  not  a  man  in 
America,  but  a  chattel,  a  thing  to  be  bought,  and  sold,  and  whipped: 
but  in  Europe  he  is  an  author,  and  a  successful  one,  too.  He  gives  in 
this  book  an  interesting  and  graphic  description  of  a  three  years'  resi- 
dence in  Europe.  The  book  will  no  doubt  obtain,^as  it  well  deserves,  a 
rapid  and  wide  popularity."—  Glasgovj  Examiner. 

"  The  above  is  the  title  of  an  intelligent  and  otherwise  well-written 
book,  in  which  the  author  details,  in  a  pleasing  and  highlj^-interesting 
manner,  an  account  of  places  he  has  seen  and  people  he  has  met;  and  we 
take  much  pleasure  in  recommending  it  to  our  readers."—  Weekly 
l)isjfiatch. 


B20  OPINIONS  or  the  British  press. 

"  This  is  an  interesting  volume,  ably  written,  bearing  on  every  page 
the  impress  of  honest  purpose  and  noble  aspiration.  One  is  amused  by 
the  well-told  anecdotes,  and  charmed  with  the  painter-like  descriptions 
of  towns,  cities  and  natural  scenery.  Indeed,  our  author  gives  many 
very  recognizable  sketches  of  the  place's  he  has  seen  and  people  he  has 
met.  His  three  years  in  Europe  have  been  well  spent.  The  work  will 
be  appreciated  by  all  the  friends  of  the  negro." —  The  Leader, 

*'  W.  Wells  Brown  is  no  ordinary  man,  or  he  could  not  have  so 
remarkably  surmounted  the  many  difficulties  and  impediments  of  his 
training  as  a  slave.  By  dint  of  resolution,  self-culture  and  force  of  char- 
acter, he  has  rendered  himself  a  popular  lecturer  to  a  British  audience, 
and  vigorous  expositor  of  the  evils  and  atrocities  of  that  system  whose 
chains  he  has  shaken  off  so  triumphantly  and  forever.  We  may  safely 
pronounce  William  Wells  Brown  a  remarkable  man,  and  a  full  refuta- 
tion of  the  doctrine  of  the  inferiority  of  the  negro." —  Glasgow  Citizen, 

"  We  can  assure  those  who  are  inclined  to  take  up  this  volume  that 
they  will  find  it  written  with  commendable  care,  as  well  as  fluency,  and 
will  derive  much  pleasure  from  a  perusal  of  it." — Bristol  Mercury, 

**  The  profound  Anti-slavery  feeling  produced  by  *  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin ' 
needed  only  such  a  book  as  this,  which  shows  so  forcibly  the  powers 
and  capacity  of  the  negro  intellect,  to  deepen  the  impression.  The  work 
certainly  exhibits  a  most  favorable  contrast  to  the  more  ambitious  pro- 
ductions of  many  of  his  white  countrymen,  N.  P.  Willis  among  others." 
— Caledonian  Mercury. 


9 


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