Warren Harding - "State of the Union Addresses of Warren Harding"

Jacob A. Riis - "The Making of an American"

Laura Lee Hope - "The Bobbsey Twins in the Country"

William Shakespeare - "King Henry the Eigth"

Travels in England in 1782

C >> Charles P. Moritz >> Travels in England in 1782




General Conway then gave his reasons why he did not resign, though
he was of the same political principles as Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke; he
was of the same opinion with them in regard to the independency of
America; the more equal representation of the people in Parliament,
and the regulations necessary in Ireland; but he did not think the
present minister, Lord Shelburne, would act contrary to those
principles. As soon as he did, he should likewise resign, but not
before.

Burke now stood up and made a most elegant though florid speech, in
praise of the late Marquis of Rockingham. As he did not meet with
sufficient attention, and heard much talking and many murmurs, he
said, with much vehemence and a sense of injured merit, "This is not
treatment for so old a member of Parliament as I am, and I will be
heard!"--on which there was immediately a most profound silence.
After he had said much more in praise of Rockingham, he sub-joined,
that with regard to General Conway's remaining in the ministry, it
reminded him of a fable he had heard in his youth, of a wolf, who,
on having clothed himself as a sheep, was let into the fold by a
lamb, who indeed did say to him, "Where did you get those long
nails, and those sharp teeth, mamma?" But nevertheless let him in;
the consequence of which was he murdered the whole flock. Now with
respect to General Conway, it appeared to him, just as though the
lamb certainly did perceive the nails and teeth of the wolf, but
notwithstanding, was so good-tempered to believe that the wolf would
change his nature, and become a lamb. By this, he did not mean to
reflect on Lord Shelburne: only of this he was certain, that the
present administration was a thousand times worse than that under
Lord North (who was present).

When I heard Mr. Pitt speak for the first time, I was astonished
that a man of so youthful an appearance should stand up at all; but
I was still more astonished to see how, while he spoke, he engaged
universal attention. He seems to me not to be more than one-and-
twenty. This same Pitt is now minister, and even Chancellor of the
Exchequer.

It is shocking to a foreigner, to see what violent satires on men,
rather than on things, daily appear in the newspapers, of which they
tell me there are at least a dozen, if not more, published every
day. Some of them side with the Ministry, and still more I think
with the Opposition. A paper that should be quite impartial, if
that were possible, I apprehend would be deemed so insipid as to
find no readers. No longer ago than yesterday, it was mentioned in
one of these newspapers, that when Fox, who is fallen, saw so young
a man as Pitt made the minister, he exclaimed with Satan, who, in
"Paradise Lost," on perceiving the man approved by God, called out,
"O hateful sight!"

On Thursday the king went with the usual solemnity to prorogue the
Parliament for a stated time. But I pass this over as a matter that
has already been so often described.

I have also, during this period, become acquainted with Baron
Grothaus, the famous walker, to whom I had also a letter of
recommendation from Baron Groote of Hambro'. He lives in
Chesterfield House, not far from General Paoli, to whom he has
promised to introduce me, if I have time to call on him again.

I have suffered much this week from the violent cough I brought with
me from the hole in Derbyshire, so that I could not for some days
stir; during which time Messrs. Schonborn and Leonhardi have visited
me very attentively, and contributed much to my amendment.

I have been obliged to relate as much about my journey out of London
here as I probably shall in Germany of all England in general. To
most people to whom I give an account of my journey, what I have
seen is quite new. I must, however, here insert a few remarks on
the elocution, or manner of speaking, of this country, which I had
forgot before to write to you.

English eloquence appears to me not to be nearly so capable of so
much variety and diffusion as ours is. Add to this, in their
Parliamentary speeches, in sermons in the pulpit, in the dialogues
on the stage; nay, even in common conversation, their periods at the
end of a sentence are always accompanied by a certain singular
uniform fall of the voice, which, notwithstanding its monotony has
in it something so peculiar, and so difficult, that I defy any
foreigner ever completely to acquire it. Mr. Leonhardi in
particular seemed to me, in some passages which he repeated out of
Hamlet, to have learnt to sink his voice in the true English manner;
yet any one might know from his speaking that he is not an
Englishman. The English place the accent oftener on the adjectives
than they do on the substantive, which, though undoubtedly the most
significant word in any sentence, has frequently less stress laid on
it than you hear laid on mere epithets. On the stage they pronounce
the syllables and words extremely distinct, so that at the theatres
you may always gain most instruction in English elocution and
pronunciation.

This kingdom is remarkable for running into dialect: even in London
they are said to have one. They say, for example, "it a'nt" instead
of "it is not;" "I don't know," for "I do not know;" "I don't know
him," for "I do not know him;" the latter of which phrases has often
deceived me, as I mistook a negative for an affirmative.

The word "sir," in English, has a great variety of significations.
With the appellation of "sir," an Englishman addresses his king, his
friend, his foe, his servant, and his dog; he makes use of it when
asking a question politely; and a member of Parliament, merely to
fill up a vacancy, when he happens to be at a loss. "Sir?" in an
inquiring tone of voice, signifies what is your desire? "Sir!" in a
humble tone--gracious Sovereign!--"Sir!" in surly tone, a box on the
ear at your service! To a dog it means a good beating. And in a
speech in Parliament, accompanied by a pause, it signifies, I cannot
now recollect what it is I wish to say farther.

I do not recollect to have heard any expression repeated oftener
than this, "Never mind it!" A porter one day fell down, and cut his
head on the pavement: "O, never mind it!" said an Englishman who
happened to be passing by. When I had my trunk fetched from the
ship in a boat, the waterman rowed among the boats, and his boy, who
stood at the head of his boat, got a sound drubbing, because the
others would not let him pass: "O, never mind it!" said the old
one, and kept rowing on.

The Germans who have been here any time almost constantly make use
of Anglicisms, such as "es will nicht thun" (it will not do),
instead of es ist nicht hinlanglich (it is not sufficient), and many
such. Nay, some even say, "Ich habe es nicht geminded" (I did not
mind it), instead of ich habe mich nicht daran errinnert, oder daran
gedacht (I did not recollect it, or I did not think of it).

You can immediately distinguish Englishmen when they speak German,
by their pronunciation according to the English manner; instead of
Ich befinde mich wohl, they say Ich befirmich u'hol (I am very
well), the w being as little noticed as u quickly sounded.

I have often heard, when directing any one in the street, the
phrase, "Go down the street as far as ever you can go, and ask
anybody." Just as we say, "Every child can direct you."

I have already noticed in England they learn to write a much finer
hand than with us. This probably arises from their making use of
only one kind of writing, in which the letters are all so exact that
you would take it for print.

In general, in speaking, reading, in their expressions, and in
writing, they seem, in England, to have more decided rules than we
have. The lowest man expresses himself in proper phrases, and he
who publishes a book, at least writes correctly, though the matter
be ever so ordinary. In point of style, when they write, they seem
to be all of the same country, profession, rank, and station.

The printed English sermons are beyond all question the best in the
world; yet I have sometimes heard sad, miserable stuff from their
pulpits. I have been in some churches where the sermons seem to
have been transcribed or compiled from essays and pamphlets; and the
motley composition, after all, very badly put together. It is said
that there are a few in London, by whom some of the English clergy
are supposed to get their sermons made for money.



CHAPTER XIV.



London, 18th July.

I write to you now for the last time from London; and, what is still
more, from St. Catherine's, one of the most execrable holes in all
this great city, where I am obliged to stay, because the great ships
arrive in the Thames here, and go from hence, and we shall sail as
soon as the wind changes. This it has just now done, yet still it
seems we shall not sail till to-morrow. To-day therefore I can
still relate to you all the little that I have farther noticed.

On Monday morning I moved from the Freemasons' Tavern to a public-
house here, of which the master is a German; and where all the
Hambro' captains lodge. At the Freemasons' Tavern, the bill for
eight days' lodging, breakfast, and dinner came to one guinea and
nine shillings and nine pence. Breakfast, dinner, and coffee were
always, with distinction, reckoned a shilling each. For my lodging
I paid only twelve shillings a week, which was certainly cheap
enough.

At the German's house in St. Catherine's, on the contrary,
everything is more reasonable, and you here eat, drink, and lodge
for half-a-guinea a week. Notwithstanding, however, I would not
advise anybody who wishes to see London, to lodge here long; for St.
Catherine's is one of the most out-of-the-way and inconvenient
places in the whole town.

He who lands here first sees this miserable, narrow, dirty street,
and this mass of ill-built, old, ruinous houses; and of course
forms, at first sight, no very favourable idea of this beautiful and
renowned city.

From Bullstrode Street, or Cavendish Square, to St. Catherine's, is
little less than half a day's journey. Nevertheless, Mr. Schonborn
has daily visited me since I have lived here; and I have always
walked back half-way with him. This evening we took leave of each
other near St. Paul's, and this separation cost me not a few tears.

I have had a very agreeable visit this afternoon from Mr. Hansen,
one of the assistants to the "Zollner book for all ranks of men" who
brought me a letter from the Rev. Mr. Zollner at Berlin, and just
arrived at London when I was going away. He is going on business to
Liverpool. I have these few days past, for want of better
employment, walked through several parts of London that I had not
before seen. Yesterday I endeavoured to reach the west end of the
town; and I walked several miles, when finding it was grown quite
dark, I turned back quite tired, without having accomplished my end.

Nothing in London makes so disgusting an appearance to a foreigner,
as the butchers' shops, especially in the environs of the Tower.
Guts and all the nastiness are thrown into the middle of the street,
and cause an insupportable stench.

I have forgot to describe the 'Change to you; this beautiful
building is a long square in the centre of which is an open area,
where the merchants assemble. All round, there are covered walks
supported by pillars on which the name of the different commercial
nations you may wish to find are written up, that among the crowd of
people you may be able to find each other. There are also stone
benches made under the covered walks, which after a ramble from St.
Catherine's, for example, hither, are very convenient to rest
yourself.

On the walls all kinds of handbills are stuck up. Among others I
read one of singular contents. A clergyman exhorted the people not
to assent to the shameful Act of Parliament for the toleration of
Catholics, by suffering their children to their eternal ruin to be
instructed and educated by them; but rather to give him, an orthodox
clergyman of the Church of England, this employ and this emolument.

In the middle of the area is a stone statue of Charles the Second.
As I sat here on a bench, and gazed on the immense crowds that
people London, I thought that, as to mere dress and outward
appearance, these here did not seem to be materially different from
our people at Berlin.

Near the 'Change is a shop where, for a penny or even a halfpenny
only, you may read as many newspapers as you will. There are always
a number of people about these shops, who run over the paper as they
stand, pay their halfpenny, and then go on.

Near the 'Change there is a little steeple with a set of bells which
have a charming tone, but they only chime one or two lively tunes,
though in this part of the City you constantly hear bells ringing in
your ears.

It has struck me that in London there is no occasion for any
elementary works or prints, for the instruction of children. One
need only lead them into the City, and show them the things
themselves as they really are. For here it is contrived, as much as
possible, to place in view for the public inspection every
production of art, and every effort of industry. Paintings,
mechanisms, curiosities of all kinds, are here exhibited in the
large and light shop windows, in the most advantageous manner; nor
are spectators wanting, who here and there, in the middle of the
street, stand still to observe any curious performance. Such a
street seemed to me to resemble a well regulated cabinet of
curiosities.

But the squares, where the finest houses are, disdain and reject all
such shows and ornaments, which are adapted only to shopkeepers'
houses. The squares, moreover, are not nearly so crowded or so
populous as the streets and the other parts of the city. There is
nearly as much difference between these squares and the Strand in
London, in point of population and bustle, as there is between
Millbank and Fredericksstadt in Berlin.

I do not at present recollect anything further, my dear friend,
worth your attention, which I can now write to you, except that
everything is ready for our departure to-morrow. I paid Captain
Hilkes, with whom I came over from Hambro', four guineas for my
passage and my board in the cabin. But Captain Braunschweig, with
whom I am to return, charges me five guineas; because provisions, he
says, are dearer in London than at Hambro'. I now have related to
you all my adventures and all my history from the time that I took
leave of you in the street, my voyage hither with Captain Hilkes
excepted. Of this, all that I think it necessary to mention is,
that, to my great dissatisfaction, it lasted a fortnight, and three
days I was sea-sick. Of my voyage back I will give you a personal
account. And now remember me to Biester, and farewell till I see
you again.

Copyright (c) 2007. topbookz.net. All rights reserved.