Young Americans Abroad | Page 8

ever
saw in New York in my life.
Truly yours,
JAMES.

Letter 4.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
Does it not seem strange that I am here in London? I can hardly tell
what to write about first. I stand at the door of our hotel and look at the
crowds in the streets, and then at old King Charles, at Charing Cross,
directly across the road, and when I think that this is the old city where
Wat Tyler figured, and Whittington was lord mayor, and Lady Jane
Grey was beheaded, and where the Tower is still to be seen, I am half
beside myself, and want to do nothing but roam about for a good month
to come. I have read so much concerning London, that I am pretty sure
I know more about it than many of the boys who have heard Bow

Church bells all their lives. We left Liverpool for Birmingham, where
we passed an afternoon and evening in the family of a manufacturer
very pleasantly, and at ten o'clock took the express mail train for
London. We are staying at a hotel called the Golden Cross, Charing
Cross. We have our breakfast in the coffee-room, and then dine as it
suits our convenience as to place and hour. We spent one day in riding
about the city, and I think we got quite an idea of the great streets.
The Strand is a very fine business street, perhaps a mile long. It widens
in one part, and has two churches in the middle of it, and a narrow
street seems built inside it at one place, as nasty, dirty a lane as I ever
saw, called Hollowell Street. I was very much delighted at the end of
the Strand to see old Temple Bar, which is the entrance to the city
proper, and which divides Fleet Street from the Strand. It is a noble
archway, with small side arches for foot passengers. The head of many
a poor fellow, and the quarters of men called traitors, have been
fastened over this gateway in former times.
Dr. Johnson was once walking in Westminster Abbey with Goldsmith,
and as they were looking at the Poet's Corner, Johnson said to his
friend,--
"Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis."
When they had walked on to Temple Bar, Goldsmith stopped Johnson,
and pointed to the heads of Fletcher and Townley, hanging above, and
slyly remarked,--
"Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis."
I suppose you remember that the great dictionary man was a Jacobite in
his heart.
The present bar was put up in 1670, and was designed by Sir
Christopher Wren. The statues on the sides, which are towards the city,
are those of Queen Elizabeth and James I.; and towards the Strand,
those of Charles I. and Charles II. They stand in niches.

Whenever the monarch passes into the city, there is much ceremony
takes place at the bar. The gates are closed, a herald sounds a trumpet
and knocks for entrance, the gates are opened, and the lord mayor of
London presents the sword of the city to the sovereign, who returns it
to his lordship. The upper part of the bar is used by Messrs. Childs, the
bankers, as a store room for their past account books.
Fleet Street is thronged with passengers and carriages of all sorts. Just a
few doors from the bar, on the right-hand side, is a gayly-painted front,
which claims to have been a palace of Henry VIII. and the residence of
Cardinal Wolsey. It is now used as a hair-cutting shop, up stairs. We
went up and examined the panelled ceiling, said to be just as it used to
be. It is certainly very fine, and looks as if it were as old as the times of
bluff Harry. Of course we had our hair cut in the old palace.
We followed through Fleet Street, noticing the offices of Punch and the
London Illustrated News, till we came to Ludgate Hill,--rather an
ascent,--which is the direct way to the Cathedral Church of St. Paul's. It
stands directly in front of Ludgate Hill, and the churchyard occupies a
large space, and the streets open on each side, making a sort of square
called Paul's Churchyard, and then at the rear you go into Cheapside.
We looked with interest, I can tell you, at Bow Church, and, as the old
bells were ringing, I tried to listen if I could hear what Whittington
heard once from their tingling--"Turn again, Whittington, lord mayor,
of London." At the end of this street, on the right hand, is the lord
mayor's house, called the Mansion House, and directly in front of the
street, closing it up, and making it break off, is the Royal Exchange;
whilst at the