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though he is, needs no instructions as to irresistible temptations which are offered when he is to touch his hat, when he is in the shop windows of a strange city, to take it off, and when he is to hold it he has found it advisable to cash his draft. under his arm. It is perhaps well to Perhaps, too, he has paid two and a half know, too, that the ranks which prevail per cent. for cashing it, which had never in English society are not without a sort once entered into his calculations. Howof representation, or rather analogy, in ever, once arrived within the beautiful the conductors and servitors of an Eng- precincts that belong to the station houses lish hotel. It would be very impolitic of every railway in England, expenses of to affront the waiter by classing him with porterage will be at end; since the serve the Boots, or the Boots by ranking him ants of the various companies are uniformwith the scullion. So, too, upon the ly and very properly forbidden to receive other side of the house, Dame Hostess, gratuities. The companies, however, do whom you rarely see, lords it over host, the stockholders justice, by balancing this servants and all, and manages the wires moderation in the car house by ample as secretly and as adroitly as an eminent charges at the ticket office. Prices are statesman of our country is reported to exorbitant–in the first class carriages, at have done those of political maneuvre, least quadruple the rates upon the bestthough, as it appears, with far more suc conducted railroads of America. Nothing cess. The housemaid, in her turn, looks can exceed their arrangements for comwith ineffable disdain upon the slop-girl, fort-cushions upon every side of one, who has even sometimes her inferiors in luxuriously soft-windows of heavy domestic management. It is a happy thing plate glass, shaded with silk curtains for the stranger that he can contemplate and the carriages themselves so small, or the issues of distinctions of society in this so arranged, as to give an individual miniature way, and without going out almost the privacy of his easy chair at of his own hotel. Sir Benjamin Brodie home. For our talking and equallywould probably demand a larger fee for privileged world, such arrangements removing a small tumor than tlie general would meet with little favor; but for the practitioner, whom you might pick up at English, who must sustain rank, where every fifth house along Fleet Street: so, it exists, by keeping alive distinctions, you would be obliged to pay the head and must keep alive distinctions by exwaiter a larger sum for performing a clusion, it is the very thing. given duty than the boot-black, or one Less care is had in the second class of the errand boys you find loitering in carriages to accommodate individuals so the street. The first requires something inclined with privacy; and the seats are to sustain his dignity; the latter executes so rough and uncomfortable as to drive a duty for barely what it is worth, or almost all who are traveling for pleasure oftener, perhaps, for what he can get. into the best carriages. An exception For ordinary acts the scale of fees to ought to be made in favor of the second waiter, housemaid and boots is in the class carriages upon the Dublin and ratio of three, two and one.
Drogheda railway—the only ones met Thus far of the larger hotels, to which with, in traveling upon fifteen of the the man of fashion, and one who, like principal British lines, which were cushGil Blas, imagines himself a merveille du ioned, or were in other respects comfortmonde, will naturally go. But sinking able. considerations of personal dignity, and Supposing ourselves, then, less some the advices of such friends as like to fifteen or twenty dollars, which have gratify the traveler's vanity by recom- paid for a ticket to London, reposing upon mending to him the first places, one will the soft, yielding cushions of a first class find in the retired, small houses, that rank carriage, that rumbles with a luxurious as second rate, less charges, and ordina ease of motion under the arches of that rily more comforts.*
famous tunnel which leads under and out But we must not lose sight of the trav. of Liverpool into the green fields of eler with whom we commenced obser- Lancashire. Little can be seen of a vations, and who we left en route. country, at the best, out of a carriage Perhaps, between hoiel charges and the window; and a carriage window passing
* In this connection may be recommended, without impropriety, the inns upon Clay. ton square, Liverpool, and those about Covent Garden market in London.
along at the rate of forty miles in the in their witlessness. For a man to play hour, is made no way better for a look- at extravagances in London, and make a out place by this extraordinary speed. show at the play, he must have not only With but one change of carriage, under his thousands, or his tens of thousands, or the magnificent iron roofs of the station hundreds, or millions even, but almost his house at Birmingham, the traveler arrives, tens of millions. Leaving, then, the more in from six to ten hours after leaving, at noted houses of Charing Cross and Grosthe Euston square in London. The old venor and Cavendish squares to dowager traveler, who is never embarrassed with old women who loll about in silk-lined more luggage than he can carry a short carriages, with puppets in their arms, distance himself, winds his way amid the and to younger scions of noble houses, throng, his carpet-bag in one hand, his who spend a week in London (at the exumbrella in the other, and in five minutes' pense of an elder brother) on their way time is snug in the corner of an omnibus, to India, with a commission in the drawhich for sixpence will take him within goons-and to men about town, who are a square of his hotel. Your new traveler, waiting a berth in some club-house-and on the other hand, is in a fever of excite- to such foreigners as care less for money ment. He sees a great many portman- than appearances-our stranger will find teaus, very like his own, going off one more comfort if the cabman sets him by one, and he is afraid of his luggage, down, on the night of his arrival, at though it was never safer in the world. some quiet boarding-house or unpretendHe sees a great many cabs coming up, ing inn, anywhere between Hyde Park taking their
fares and driving away, and and the Strand; or he may take lodgings, he is afraid he will be left without one: finding his breakfast at a coffee-room next he never had a more groundless fear in door, and dine at the eating-rooms around his life. He sees a great many design- Westminster or under the shadow of St. ing-looking men, and is afraid that, one Paul's. Either of the latter methods will way or another, he will be cheated : he average from twelve to twenty dollars the never had a more rational fear in his life. week; and if the new-comer patronize, While he remains within limits that are on frequent occasions, the dress circle of subject to the jurisdiction of the railway, Her Majesty's theatre and the shops in he is safe from all trickery. The com- Regent street, he may safely multiply the pany guards against all extortion from last estimate by four, without reckoning travelers on the part of any one but them- very wide of the truth. And, at the best, selves. His luggage is at length come keeping eyes wide open as he may, the to the hammer of the conductor for an stranger in London will find his ducats owner, and, if he chooses, is put upon fast changing to silver, and his silver the cab he selects out of the five or six slipping away. whose places are constantly supplied. Setting aside a very pretty side view of
Some seemingly judicious friend has London bridge from the Waterman's pier, recommended Morley's Hotel, both for and of Waterloo bridge from the balusits situation and its arrangements. Both trade of the London, and of St. Paul's are unexceptionable; and if there were from Ludgate Hill, (this last at the risk no other consideration, no advice could of being run over,) little can be seen in be better. But if the visitor have in view London without paying for the sight. a trip upon the Continent, after a stop at The Poet's Corner, at Westminster, is either Morley's, or Mivarts, or the Cla. indeed free; but if you wander into that rendon, he will have need to take an neighborhood with the air of a stranger, early opportunity—whatever his present (and what stranger of less than half a resources—of sending for a new draft year's standing can shake off a look of upon the Barings. He must be an old wonderment as he strolls between Westtraveler who makes expenses at either of minster Hall and the magnificent tracery the houses named come under ten dollars of Henry the Seventh's chapel ?) you will a day-much oftener exceeding twenty. have a porter or two, with brass labels Such as feel a sort of pride in spending about their necks, who, with a tip of the money freely-for the spirit is growing bat, will offer to conduct you down the and branching, unfortunately, in our narrow court into the little entry of the country—will choose the Clarendon, but Poet's Corner. For this charitable office will very probably find those there who it is needless to say that at least a sixwill treat guineas as they have been used pence will be expected. The vergers are to treat shillings, and will have the mor- there in their black gowns, who will sell
gement of being outwitted you a guide for five shillings, or will show
you through aisle and choir, in little par He is wise who, while looking at the ties of six or seven, for sixpence each sights of London, fills his pocket of a It is a fact, indeed, that no cathedral in morning with six and fourpenny bits. England can be visited, out of service Pence are hard to carry; besides, they time, but by payment. At Winchester, are not well received in England ; they at Salisbury, Exeter, Gloucester, Worces- may be put aside, in a corner of the ter, York, Durham and Lincoln, we have trunk, for disbursement in Ireland. Even paid our shilling, and contentedly-for half-crowns are better than shillings; we were permitted to range at will, and, you may sometimes look for change on if we chose it, unattended, under the gray payment of half-a-crown—from a shilling, old arches; but at Westminster, the glory never. of them all for its historic recollections, One must ride much to see London, even this privilege is denied. The scale unless he anticipates a stay of one or two of charges has become reduced to a code: years. It behoves him, then, to acquire every tomb bears its price; every chapel early some general knowledge of omnibus must have a little offering deposited at its and cab rates. Both are regulated by shrine-noi to the spirit of the departed law; but the misfortune is, that the congreat- not even with the miserable ex ductors and drivers prove more than a cuse that Catholicism offers, of saying match for the noviciate in expounding mass for the dead—but as trinkgeld for the law. The best general caution in the worthless vergers. St. Paul's is regard to the omnibus is, never get in nominally free, and you may almost lose unless you have better authority than yourself in the great shadows of its in- the word of the conductor as to where terior unattended; but if you wish to you are going, or unless you are careenter the choir, or to ascend the dome or less where you are going Imagine the the cross, you will find that each has its satisfaction of a stranger who, invited to price. Even the stalls upon a Sunday dine in the neighborhood of Portland have all of them their valuation, and no Place at six o'clock, takes an omnibus at thing but a silver key unlocks the iron half-past five at Charing Cross, and at side-doors which lead to the gallery. the end of three-quarters of an hour finds Somerset House and the Tower, Christ's himself in the borough of Southwark, at Hospital and the Monument, the Zoolo- least six miles from the desired point. gical Garden, or the Houses of Parlia. Expostulation is too late, if it availed ment, are all subject to the same rules of anything; the conductor had only misvisit. Fees regulated by authority will understood you, and kindly offers to make be found far more economical than those what amends he can, by taking you, for dependent upon the good will of the an additional sixpence, by the return giver. Thus, the visitor at Chelsea Hos- omnibus to the place at which he took pital, an institution nominally open to you up. the public, will be met at the gateway by Cab riding is not expensive if the barsome rosy-faced old soldier, perhaps gain be made beforehand—less even than stumping it upon a wooden leg or two, in most of the provincial towns. who loves a cup of ale now as well as Suppose, now, the traveler, quit of he loved the Rhine wine at Coblentz, and London, upon the top of one of the stagewho will take off his hat in military style coaches, which yet have their booking and kindly offer to conduct you about offices in retired corners of the city, and the buildings. At the door of the chapel which crash through the long line of he hands you over to another brother of suburbs, down into the quiet and brightthe mess, who discourses upon the ban- faced country. And what has he paid ners and the paintings. With a small for his seat, whether he be going to fee at parting, you come again into the Ware or Edmonton ? Too much, it a hands of your first usher, who by turns stranger; for the modern purveyors of gives you over to the conduct of the man the English stage-coach are graceless of the wards and the man of the hall; all varlets, and if the principals are out of whose fees, added to the shilling you give the way, you may find at the desk a the general usher at leaving, make a booker as meek-looking as Newman pretty little sum, with which our old sol- Noggs, but as keen as old Nickleby, who diers adjourn an hour after to a neighbor will charge a half-crown over the fare, ing beer-shop, and, made merry with the and make the cash book and cash box malt, shoulder the crutch,
tally by the ingenious expedient of drop
ping the surplus into his own pocket. “ And show how fields were won." The time when responsibility attached
to the conductors of the system, and the English stage.coach. In posting, in when the great court-yard of the Bull phaeton, or gig riding, one is not high and Mouth thundered with the hoofs of enough to see well over the hedges; and the reeking teams from every county in in the banquette, one can see only before England, has utterly gone by. It is only him. In front you have the coachman, upon the lesser cross routes, and under and behind, upon the mail, you have the the surveillance of proprietors of little guard. capital and little character, that the pres At the end of a stage, some thirty miles ent coach system is conducied. In Suf. on the route, you are a little surprised by folk, and Norfolk, and Cambridgeshire, the coachman's tipping his hat to you, with parts of South Wales and Devon- and saying, in a cheerful, familiar way, shire, where the blaze of railways has not that he goes no further on the box. To yet reached, the coach is now only to be this you, as a stranger, wishing to chime found in England, with its old appoint- in with the coachman's good humor, ments.
reply by expressing one or two very Among the first acquaintances which courteous regrets. But the old stager the stranger makes in coach traveling- next you, wondering whether you are even before the grooms have left the very shallow or very deep, makes his horses' heads—is the coach-porter. If acknowledgment of the coachman's inyou have a portmanteau, he is very sure formation by quietly slipping his thumb to know where it has been put>" he and finger into his traveling pocket, and has looked out for it.” If you have no pulling out a sixpence. It is next your portmanteau, and have not the air of one turn, and for want of sixpence, you too poor to own one, he takes your um must give a shilling: brella as you climb to the top, and thinks, Perhaps there will be another opporperhaps, that “your honor has a very tunity of the sort, before the end of the nice umbrella,” and hopes you may have day's ride, thus fortunately rendering a fine day. As the coach sets off, he worms you familiar at an early period with the his way over the top-avoiding shrew- customs of the country. ish-looking old women, if there are any, The guard, too, at the end, looks you and people in blouses, and men in scant in the face, in a way that makes it very camlet cloaks, who carry baggy family hard to look back, unless you put a umbrellas, and always look as if they shilling or eighteenpence in his hand; to had just lost a guinea-and touches his be sure, if he be upon the mail, he is bat to easy, free-looking fellows and forbidden to receive money; but pray, strangers, whom he learns to detect at what guard can be found so ill-bred as least two squares off
. The coach-porter, to affront a stranger by refusing a trifling notwithstanding his rough exterior, has a gratuity? Affronts of that kind are very great deal of suavity in his way of mak- rare in England. ing demands, and in his acknowledg The stranger who travels post, will ments; it is, moreover, worthy of re- find expenses multiplying beyond meamark, that he is the most moderate of all sure. He must expect to pay too much English officials in his claims. He will for his horses—too much for the postnot refuse threepence; he even encour. chaise, and he will never be able to ages, with a compassionate look, the giv- satisfy the postillion. Beside, there is the ers of twopence, and, on one occasion, we boy who flings open the door-the groom remember to have seen him slip a penny. who stands by the horses' heads—the half-penny into his waistcoat pocket, boots who sees that the luggage is all without apparent affront.
right-the waiter who negotiates the No one, not a lady, and she hardly, bargain for the fresh horses—the maid should think of riding inside an English who sidles out to ask madam if she will coach. Prices for the four seats within have a glass of water, and the crowd of are nearly double those of the ten or beggars, who very rationally conjecture, twelve without, and much more than that whoever travels post has plenty of half less is to be seen from within. spare pennies. Moreover, the postOf all the seats, à la voiture, we have traveler must never think of any but the ridden upon—from the curious side seats first houses, nor of any place in them of the Irish car and Swiss char à banc, but the best parlors, nor of ordinary wine, to the coupée and banquette of the French except by the bottle ; and if he could diligence—we have found none equal, for manage to dispose of one or two pints of thorough country seeing, to the top of Bordeaux at dinner, it would add amaz
ingly to the éclat of his visit, and he and setting it temptingly in her prettiest would have the satisfaction of finding dish, she coyly slips it upon the white half the small boys in town about his cloth, with a little apology that it is not carriage at leaving.
better, and a little evident satisfaction Another mode of traveling which, in that it is so good. a given time, is the least expensive of After a dinner, that the walk, the all, and for one who wishes to see all, cleanliness and the good will of the hostthe most desirable, is walking. Your ess, have made more enjoyable than any portmanteau may be sent forward to any one in your recollection, you may sit part, as safely as if you were with it, musing before the glowing fire, as quiet or your knapsack may be strapped as the cat that has come in to bear you upon your back. At night, you wander company. And at night, you have sheets wearily into one of those little close as fresh as the air of the mountains. The nestled, gray-thatched country villages, breakfast is ready when you wish, and far away from the great lines of travel, there are chops, and fresh eggs, and toast where even the thunder of a post-chaise and coffee. For all this, you have less through its single, narrow street, is a to pay than a dinner would cost in town rare event, where the children stop their —you have the friendly wishes of the seeming play to have a look at you, and good woman to follow you, and more rosy-faced girls peep out from behind than this, you see a remnant of the simhalf-open doors. A little by itself, with plicity of English country character. a bench each side the door, is the inn of But let not the post traveler, or the the "
Eagle and the Falcon”—which coach, or the railway traveler, amuse guardian birds, some native Dick Tinto himself with the anticipation of any such has pictured on the square sign that hangs hostellrie in his route, or any such small out from the corner. The hostess is half bills to pay out of his purse. It is only ready to embrace you, and treats you the foot-loiterer, who, like ourselves, has like a prince in disguise. She shows pushed his way into retired hamlets, of you through the tap-room into a little which the name is scarce known to parlor, with white curtains, and mir- gazetteers, not knowing at morning ror in gilt frame, and two or three where the darkness will come upon him family portraits interspersed with litho- -careless for to-morrow's journey, but graphic representations of the ancient exquisitely enjoying the novelties of topatriarchs-half a dozen rich-bottomed day-directed by his pleasure, and guidchairs, a substantial walnut bureau of ed by his map--such an one, and such antique air, with a few books upon it an one only, can have pleasant remithat have doubtless descended in the niscences of the costs of English travel. family for two or three generations, com But what is the country inn that the plete the adornments. Here, alone, be- ordinary traveler meets with ? A good side a brisk fire, kindled with furze, you inn; holding a middle rank between the can watch the white flame leaping last spoken of, and the first. Such old lazily through the black lumps of coal, towns as Woodstock, or Northampton, and enjoy the best fare of the “ Eagle or Durham, or Carlisle, furnish the best and the Falcon.” Nor is the fare to be specimens of this intermediate rank. In spurned. The bread may not be as white general they preserve the old inn-court as in the shops about Whitehall, but it with its balcony, where pretty Mary is sweet, and the butter is fresh and as the housemaid and the younger Weller yellow as gold. And she will cut you a passed their serious pleasantries, and nice rump steak to broil, and put you where, farther back, much gay tiitle-tattle down a pot of potatoes, and half a head of the old English Drama had its locum of a savoy. And she will scrape a little in quo. The doors are low, the ceilings horse-radish to dress your steak with, are low, and the archway that the coach and bring you a pitcher of foaming thunders under with all its load, lowers “ home-brewed.” And if it be in the down as if it would take you by the time of summer berries, she will set be- shoulders at the least. Boots and the maid, fore you, afterward, a generous bowl of who in many of them acts the waiter, them, sprinkled with sugar, and cream to are always waiting to receive you with eat upon them; and if too late or too their best smiles. You get a good dinearly for her garden stock, she bethinks ner of joint, and fish, and pastry, and herself of some little pot of jelly in an the very best of ale. It is in such inns out of the way cupboard of the house, as these, one makes the acquaintance of