Glances at Europe. Greeley Horace
to Hume and Shakspeare. This palace became a favorite residence of Henry VIII. Edward VI. was born here; Queen Mary spent her honeymoon here, after her marriage with Philip of Spain; Queen Elizabeth held many great festivals here; James I. lived and Queen Anne his wife died here; Charles I. retired here first from the Plague, and afterwards to escape the just resentment of London in the time of the Great Rebellion. After his capture, he was imprisoned here. Cromwell saw one daughter married and another die during his residence in this palace. William III., Queen Anne, George I. and George II. occasionally resided here; but it has not been a regal residence since the death of the latter. Yet the grounds are still admirably kept; the shrubbery, park, fish-pond, &c. are quite attractive; while a famous grape-vine, 83 years old, bears some 1,100 pounds per annum of the choicest "Black Hamburghs," which are reserved for the royal table, and (being under glass) are said to keep fresh and sweet on the vine till February. A fine avenue of trees leads down to the Thames, and the grounds are gay with the flowers of the season. The Park is very large, and the location one of the healthiest in the kingdom.
Hampton Court Palace, though surrounded by guards and other appurtenances of Royalty, is only inhabited by decayed servants of the Court, impoverished and broken-down scions of the Aristocracy, &c. to whom the royal generosity proffers a subsistence within its walls. I suppose about two-thirds of it are thus occupied, while the residue is thrown open at certain hours to the public. I spent two hours in wandering through this portion, consisting of thirty-four rooms, mainly attractive by reason of the Paintings and other works of Art displayed on their walls. As a whole, the collection is by no means good, the best having been gradually abstracted to adorn those Palaces which Royalty still condescends to inhabit, while worse and worst are removed from those and deposited here; yet it was interesting to me to gaze at undoubted originals by Raphael, Titian, Poussin, Rembrandt, Teniers, Albert Durer, Leonardo da Vinci, Tintoretto, Kneller, Lely, &c., though not their master-pieces. The whole number of pictures, &c. here exhibited is something over One Thousand, probably five-sixths Portraits. Some of these have a strong Historical interest apart from their artistic merit. Loyola, Queen Elizabeth, Anne Boleyn, Admiral Benbow, William III., Mary Queen of Scots, Mary de Medicis, Louis XIV., are a few among scores of this character. The Cartoons of Raphael and some beautifully, richly stained glass windows are also to be seen. The bed-rooms of William III., Queen Anne, and I think other sovereigns, retain the beds as they were left; but little other furniture remains, the mirrors excepted. I think Americans who have a day to spare in London may spend it agreeably in visiting this Palace, especially as British Royal Residences and galleries are reputed not very accessible to common people. At this one, every reasonable facility is afforded, and no gratuities are solicited or expected by those in attendance. I should prefer a day for such a jaunt on which there are fewer squalls of hail, snow and rain than we encountered—which in May can hardly be deemed unreasonable—but if no better can be found, take such as may come and make the best of it. This Palace is a good deal larger on the ground than our Capitol—larger than the Astor House, but, being less lofty, contains (I should judge) fewer rooms than that capacious structure. It is built mainly of brick, and if it has great Architectural merits I fail to discern them.
Counsel to the Sea-going.
London, Tuesday, May 6th, 1851.
I desire to address a few words of advice to persons about to cross the Atlantic or any other ocean for the first time. I think those who follow my counsel will have reason to thank me.
I. Begin by providing yourself with a pair of stout, well-made thick boots—the coarser and firmer the better. Have them large enough to admit two pair of thick, warm stockings, yet sit easily on the feet. Put them on before you leave home, and never take them off during the voyage except when you turn in to sleep.
II. Take a good supply of flannels and old woolen clothes, and especially an overcoat that has seen service and is not afraid of seeing more. Should you come on board as if just out of a band-box, you will forget all your dandyism before your first turn of sea-sickness is over, and will go ashore with your clothes spoiled by the salt spray and your own careless lounging in all manner of places and positions. Put on nothing during the voyage that would sell for five dollars.
III. Endure your first day of sea-sickness in your berth; after that, if you cannot go on deck whenever the day is fair, get yourself carried there. You may be sick still—the chance is two to one that you will be; but if you are to recover at all while on the heaving surge this is the way.
IV. Move about as much as possible; think as little as you can of your sickness; but interest yourself in whatever (except vomiting) may be going forward—the run of the ship, the management of her sails, &c. &c. Keep clear of all sedentary games, as a general rule; they may help you to kill a few hours, but will increase your headache afterwards. Talk more than you read; and determine to walk smartly at least two hours every fair day, and one hour any how.
V. As to eating, you are safe against excess so long as you are sick; and if you have bad weather and a rough sea, that will be pretty nearly all the way. I couldn't advise you, though ever so well, to eat the regular four times per day; though my young friend who constantly took five hearty meals seemed to thrive on that regimen. In the matter of drink, if you can stick to water, do so; I could not, nor could I find any palatable substitute. Try Congress Water, Seidlitz, any thing to keep clear of Wines and Spirits. If there were some portable, healthful and palatable acid beverage devoid of Alcohol, it would be a blessed thing at sea.
VI. Finally, rise early if you can; be cheerful, obliging, and determined to see the sunny side of everything whereof a sunny side can be discovered or imagined; and bear ever in mind that each day is wearing off a good portion of the distance which withholds you from your destination. The best point of a voyage by steam is its brevity; wherefore, I pray you, Mr. Darius Davidson, to hurry up that new steamer or screamer that is to cross the Atlantic in a week. I shall want to be getting home next August or September.
VII. Don't bother yourself to procure British money at any such rate as $4.90 for sovereigns, which was ruling when I came away. Bring American coin rather than pay over $4.86. You can easily obtain British gold here in exchange for American, and I have heard of no higher rate than $4.87.
VIII. Whatever may be wise at other seasons, never think of stopping at a London hotel this summer unless you happen to own the Bank of England. If you know any one here who takes boarders or lets rooms at reasonable rates, go directly to him; if not, drive at once to the house of Mr. John Chapman, American Bookseller, 142 Strand, and he will either find you rooms or direct you to some one else who will.
IX. If the day of your embarkation be fair, take a long, earnest gaze at the sun, so that you will know him again when you return. They have something they call the sun over here which they show occasionally, but it looks more like a boiled turnip than it does like its American namesake. Yet they cheer us with the assurance that there will be real sunshine here by-and-by. So mote it be!
V.
THE FUTURE OF LABOR—DAY-BREAK.
London, Friday, May 9, 1851.
I have spent the forenoon of to-day in examining a portion of the Model Lodging-Houses, Bathing and Washing establishments and Cooperative Labor Associations already in operation in this Great Metropolis. My companions were Mr. Vansittart Neale, a gentleman who has usefully devoted much time and effort to the Elevation of Labor, and M. Cordonnaye, the actuary or chosen director of an Association of Cabinet-Makers in Paris, who are exhibitors of their own products in the Great Exposition, which explains their chief's