FROM

THE

MILLENNIAL HARBINGER.

SERIES III.

VOL. IV.	B E T H A N Y, SEPTEMBER, 1847.	NO. IX.

      My dear Clarinda--IN the United States we have nothing ancient except the everlasting hills and mountains. These, indeed, are monuments of ancient grandeur; but it is the grandeur of Nature, and not of Art. We have also many an ancient river, on whose time-worn banks are inscribed the records of many a flood, which for thousands of years and for thousands of miles, carried the rains of heaven and the exuviae of forests and of hills into the shoals and estuaries that have been for ages entrenching upon the dominions of ancient Neptune. We have also many a broad lake, and many a wide extended plain, whose antiquities reach beyond all the epocha of chronology and all the dialects of men. But we have no ruins of ancient temples and palaces--no mouldering altars--no fallen towers--no vanquished castles, on which are written the superstitions of extinct tribes, or the bloody deeds of rival nations contending for the empire of the world. But here it is quite otherwise. Scarce a city whose origin reaches not into the ages of fable and romance, scarce a mountain or a hill on whose surface stands not some monument of ancient superstition, or some memento of battles fought and of victories won.

      Having either in my nature or in my education, I cannot now find time to decide in which, or whether in both, a certain love of the ancient, a passion or a taste for deeds of former times--developments of ancestorial mind, proofs of genius and of art, especially of those from whom I must have derived much of that which reconciles me to myself; much of that on account of which a man would no barter himself for any other self in the world, I have spent my hours of recreation not so much in contemplating what is now, as in searching into that which is old; not so much in admiring the developments of contemporary minds in the improvements of the current age, as in contemplating the works of our fathers in ages long since passed away. The portion of England through which I have recently passed, I am glad to say, has afforded me much gratification of this sort. In the cities of Chester, Shrewsbury, Nottingham, and Leicester,--not now to name this city of many generations, this vast London,--I have found something of Roman, and much of British, Saxon, and Norman antiquity. True, these are not as grey and as venerable as those of Roman, Grecian, or Chinese traditions; still to me they are more interesting, because there [517] is more of that important personage, Oneself, in them, than in those of other kindreds, tongues, and people, I will, therefore, give you a few extracts from my memorandum book, being desirous not so much to direct your mind into this channel as that of the younger branches of my family.

      And first of Chester, the venerable metropolis of the county palatine of Cheshire, situated on the beautiful bank of the Dee, whose mouth yon passed as you marked the boundaries of Wales and England in the Channel while approaching the Mersey and Liverpool. The origin of Chester is lost in the depths of remote antiquity. It is more probably of British than of Roman origin. The Romans called it Deva, from the Dee, and afterwards Cestriæ, from Castrium, a camp, and Castrum Legionis, being the camp of the Legion. It was, indeed, the camp of the twentieth Legion, stationed here A. D. 61, called "The Victorious." It was certainly a Roman colony before Agricola's expedition to Scotland. There is a tower, or the remains of a tower, yet standing, called Julius Cesar's; more properly, however, as some think, Julius Agricola's. It was relinquished by the Romans in the fifth century, and falling into the hands of the British princes, continued theirs till about the Saxon conquest in 607.

      I will not more than allude to the battles fought here for religion and politics from the year 585, when it became part of the Saxon kingdom, till 880, when it was dissolved by Alfred. Two and twenty kings reigned over it during these three centuries. Henry III created his eldest son Earl of Chester; Richard II erected it into a principality, adding to his titles Princeps Cestriæ. It was reduced into a county palatine, again abridged by Henry VIII, and finally abolished.

      Christianity was introduced here by the family of Caractacus, who propagated it among the British tribes, several Christians being amongst the Roman soldiers and citizens. It was, therefore, introduced here sometime in the last half of the first century.

      The Saxons drove the British into Wales, whither Christianity receded after their invasion. Because St. Augustine converted the Anglo-Saxons to the Christianity of Rome in the sixth century, it is alleged that the church of Rome first planted Christianity in this island. But this is fabulous. The ancient Britons refused the religion of Augustine, retired into Wales, and never acknowledged his spiritual jurisdiction. Dr. Bird was the first proper Bishop of Chester, who, because of his conformity to the Protestant faith, was deposed by Queen Mary. He was succeeded by the persecuting [518] Cotis and by Cuthbert Scott, who had a hand in burning Bucer's bones at Cambridge. Queen Elizabeth deposed Scott, Cotis having, after he had washed his hands in the blood of one martyr, soon made his exit.

      From these notices of the ancient history of Chester we enter its venerable walls. It is entirely surrounded with a very antique wall, on which is a flagged walk, some six feet wide. The whole circuit is one mile, three quarters, and one hundred and twenty-one yards. This, I learn, "is the only entire specimen of ancient fortification in Great Britain." The present form of the wall is strictly Roman. They are carefully preserved by the corporation of the city. The gates attest their Roman origin. Their sides have yet the Roman propugnaculum, or bastion, to annoy an entering army; and between them stands the portcullis, or cataract, ready to drop in case an enemy should force the gates.

      Every thing about here is built of red sand-stone, and that of a very brittle character. This gives to Chester and its walls, its battlements, its towers, and its churches, a very ancient and venerable appearance. The four gates of the city, looking to the four cardinal points, have, with some of their very ancient churches, been re-builded, as I learn from their Roman inscriptions, within more or less than one century. Every where you see the mouldering ruins of ancient magnificence.

      Were it not foreign to my purpose, I would attempt the description of the churches of this ancient city. But since at Chester, I see so much of antiquity and of ruins, that I dare not attempt it. My notes would not be either so interesting or so useful. Their time and water-worn dilapidated condition and appearance, occasioned indeed by the frail texture of the red sandstone of this country, would lead one to think that instead of hundreds they were thousands of years old. The oldest ruins of church architecture in Chester is that of St. John. I spent an hour in wandering through its extensive walls and prostrate splendor. It was founded, according to Girardus, A. D. 509, by Ethelred, king of Mercia; and without the potions of it yet standing and used for worship, I saw some of the finest specimens of Saxon architecture in the kingdom.

      The Cathedral, indeed, demands a passing notice. It is an immense Saxon pile. Its external length is 372 feet; its internal 350 feet. Its nave or broad aisle, 175 feet; its choir, 110; the height of its ceiling, 73; and its tower, 127 feet high. Its vestry is of Norman style. Its choir stands separated from the nave by a rich Gothic stone screen, above which is placed the organ. Yet so [519] furrowed and wasted are its outside walls and whole exterior, as if torrents had for ages run down its sides, that one of large caution would, with some hesitancy, for the first time at least, commit his person within its massive roof and mouldering towers.

      But in noticing the dilapidated remains of ecclesiastic architecture, in every ruin of which around Chester, an antiquary will find something to interest him, I must not omit to note the Castle of Chester, said to have been founded by William the Conqueror in 1016. It was formerly the palace of the local monarchs, and their strong hold of defence. Within the precincts yet stand several towers of Norman architecture. Of these the most handsome and interesting is called Julius Cesar's Tower. Its entrance is through a Gothic door of more recent workmanship. It stands, indeed, in humble contrast with the chaste and classic specimens of modern architecture around it. The Castle of Chester is now as much distinguished for its fine display of varied architecture, as for its ancient remains of Saxon and Norman magnificence. In approaching it one might imagine he was about to enter the Acropolis of Athens. The entrance, more than one hundred feet by thirty-five, is the finest specimen of the purest Doric. Opposite to it stands the shire hall, whose splendid front, with its massive pillars and splendid portico, of the most chaste and beautiful Ionic style, splendidly ornamented in stucco, together with the side buildings for the civil and military institutions of the country, with their Corinthian columns and spacious fronts, in symmetrical correspondence with each other and with the whole, produce the finest effect, and constrain the most skilful and tasteful amateurs to give it the preference to any thing of the kind in the kingdom.

      But a few notices of its history is more important and more full of instruction than any thing we could say of its architecture. Chester is famous in history for the visits of the kings of England, and the visitations of the King of kings.

      The Welsh prince Llewellyn, one of whose family has been press-man in my printing-office for some fifteen years, as early as 1255, with his Welsh army marched to the gates of Chester, carrying the unacceptable offerings of fire and sword to the citizens. Prince Edward the next year made a more acceptable visit. In 1264, in the wars with the Barons, the city and cattle fell into their hands. In 1276 and 1277 Edward I visited it; but neither then would the stern Llewellyn, then Prince of Wales, do him homage. Edward visits it again for a whole month in 1282. He brought his Queen with him, and spent a few days in 1283, and twice afterwards called [520] at Chester. In 1312 Edward II met Piers de Gaveston at this city. In 1390 Henry of Lancaster, at war with Richard II placed his army under its walls. Henry VII, with his Queen and mother, visited Chester in 1494. In 1617 James I made a splendid visit to Chester. In 1642 Charles, who, on the 25th of August, this year, hoisted his standard at Nottingham, visited this ancient city. In 1687 James II, and in 1690 king William sojourned in Chester. William was then on his way to reduce Ireland. In 1810 the Prince of Orange, and in 1817 the Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia visited this city.

      But the sword, pestilence, and famine have also visited Chester. In 1465 a dreadful slaughter of the people of Chester and of Wales occurred here because of misunderstandings between them and Reginald ap Griffith ap Bleddyn, who, after carrying the day, took prisoner the Mayor of Chester and hung him in the Tower. In 1507 a pestilence, called "the sweating sickness," broke out amongst the males of Chester. Ninety-one householders fell in three days, and yet only four females died of the disease during the visitation.--This plague broke out again in 1517. Such was the mortality, that the city was in a great measure deserted of its inhabitants, insomuch that "the grass grew a foot high at the Cross, and in other streets of the city." In 1550 the same "sweating sickness" again visited Chester, and was followed by a great scarcity of food--corn selling at sixteen shillings, (or four dollars per bushel). This plague returned in 1602 and continued to the end of 1605, with few intermissions. Not less than six hundred and fifty died of this pestilence in 1603, and in the next year nine hundred and eighty-six--fifty-five dying weekly. Siege and the pestilence in 1647 again depopulated the city. Two thousand and ninety-nine died of the plague, and the multitude fled; so that again the streets were covered with grass, and desolation triumphed. From that day to the present the pestilence has not visited Chester.

      Such are a few of the dispensations of Providence preserved in the history of Chester. From these we may learn that nations and cities, like private families, in a series of years pass through numerous and various changes, indicative of the instability of all human affairs, and of a very special providence presiding over the destinies of man. Had we as detailed and as protracted a history of almost any city in this kingdom as we have of Chester, what a fund of useful material for grave reflection would it afford to those that are curious to learn and comprehend the ways of God to man, and the effects of men's actions upon themselves and their families. [521]

      As an instance of a very special providence found in the annals of Chester, I will relate a well authenticated story found in the records of Chester: "In the year 1558 Dr. Henry Cole, Dean of St. Paul's, was charged by Queen Mary, of bloody memory and of Papistical piety, with a commission to the Council of Ireland, which had for its object the persecution of the Irish Protestants. The Doctor stopped for a night at Chester, on his way to Dublin, and put up at the BLUE POSTS, a house now occupied by W. Brittain. This house was then kept by a Mrs. Mottershead. In this house he was visited by the Mayor, to whom in the course of conversation he related his errand to Dublin; in confirmation of which he took out of his cloak bag a leather box, exclaiming in a tone of exultation, "Here is what will lash the heretics of Ireland!" This announcement was caught by the landlady, who had a brother in Dublin; and while the commissioner was escorting His Worship down stairs, the good woman, prompted by an affectionate reward for the safety of her brother, opened the box, took out the commission, and placed in lieu thereof a pack of cards, with the knave of clubs uppermost. This the Doctor packed up without suspecting the transformation of his commission; nor was the deception discovered till his arrival in the presence of the Lord Deputy and Privy Council at the Castle of Dublin. The surprize of the whole assembly on opening the supposed commission may be more easily imagined than described. The Doctor, in short, was immediately sent back for a more satisfactory authority; but before he could return to Ireland, Queen Mary had breathed her last. It is added that the ingenuity and affectionate zeal of the landlady were rewarded by Elizabeth with a pension of forty pounds sterling per annum. Thus "the Lord taketh the wise in their own craftiness," and converts their wisdom into folly.

      Having dwelt so long on this place, I will only add a brief narrative of my visit to Eaton Hall, the palace of the Marquis of Westminster, some four miles from the city. Accompanied and conducted by my friend Mr. Samuel Davis, and sister Mary Davis, of Mollington, I spent, by way of recreation, one of the most pleasant days in surveying this most magnificent palace and its most elegantly arranged and adorned grounds--the second, if not indeed the first, in the kingdom. The Marquis of Westminster is probably, with one or two exceptions, the richest nobleman in Great Britain. He owns whole streets of palaces here in London, called Grosvenor Square, Bellegrave Square, Eaton Square, Wilton Crescent, &c. &c.; from which, and from other estates, he derives an income of much more than one thousand pounds a day--some half million [522] sterling, or two and a half millions of dollars per annum. So matters go in the English aristocracy. The present Robert Grosvenor, Esq., now Marquis of Westminster, represents a very ancient and venerable family, of Norman extraction, and occupies some five or six other estates in the country besides that of Eaton Hall. His palace in London, in exterior grandeur, though not in extent, excels that of Buckingham, in which Her Majesty at present resides. But to my visit to Eaton Hall.

      The lodges and avenues leading to this palace are six in number, passing in different directions through the pleasure grounds, whose whole extent is eight hundred acres. In a portion of these grounds is a park enclosed by an iron fence, eight feet high, in which we saw some three hundred deer, of every variety of size and color peculiar to the species. The river Dee passing through a portion of these grounds, affords the means of beautifying them with all the charms that fish-ponds, lakes, and canals with their tenantry of swans and water-fowl of every species, can bestow. To add variety and enhance the beauty of this paradise, the Marquis, at the trifling expense of forty thousand dollars, erected a light and elegant iron bridge, of 150 feet span, over the Dee, in one splendid arch, to be crossed only on foot by strangers, but to be used for convenience by his own establishment.

      As we approach the palace by the east lodge, through a well assorted forest of the most beautiful of English varieties of trees and shrubbery, amongst which the elm, maple, beech, copper-beech, cedar, white pine, oak, common ash, Norway fir, Irish yew, Italian poplar, mountain ash, common ash, beech, juniper, liburnum, horse-chesnut, holly, laurel, bay, willow, white thorn, &c. &c., are abundant--the grounds expand into beautiful parks ornamented with clumps of trees and wide-spreading oaks, at proper distances. The sides of the smooth well formed roads are adorned with all manner of shrubbery, deciduous and evergreen, still more and more chastened into neatness and beauty as we approach the palace, which, all of a sudden, at last presents its Gothic magnificence with grand effect on the eye of him that can relish and admire the happiest combinations of Nature and Art. The palace consists of three stories, finished with octagonal turrets, which, by stately intermediate towers, are connected with the main building. These are adorned by buttresses, niches, pinnacles, enriched by exquisitely carved heraldic designs, fret work, and foliage, surmounted with a splendid embattlement.

      The grand entrance is on the west front, for it has an east and a [523] west front. The portico, of three arches, with an exquisitely groined ceiling, is supported on clustered pillars of the most exquisite workmanship, through which we ascend by a flight of easy steps to a massive bronzed door, admitting us into a magnificent hall of splendid proportions, with a vaulted ceiling, the various compartments of which, branching in all directions, meet in a richly carved and pierced pendant, from which is suspended a huge lantern of antique design. The pavement is of checkered marble, and was covered with some twelve or fourteen exquisite statues, from the best masters, and of the purest marble. The walls, too, are adorned with some of the richest pictures which the Italian art could furnish.

      But I will not describe farther the interior of this palace. We passed into a saloon furnished with regal magnificence, and walked through sundry rooms of unsurpassed beauty and magnificence.--All that groined and fretted ceilings, decorated with endless ramifications of fan-work tracery could do--all that the varieties of Gothic foliage, brilliant colors, rich emblazonry, and costly furniture could bestow, have been united in this palace to please the lusts of the eye and to minister to the pride of life. All that walls hung with lutestring of richest hues, or Genoa velvet, receiving and reflecting still more brilliant beauties from sunbeams streaming through painted glass, can effect--all that paintings of unsurpassed excellence, chandeliers of elaborate workmanship, furniture in form and quality corresponding with the architecture of the palace--all that cabinets of ivory, mosaic, and mother of pearl--all that golden vases, sparkling in exquisite niches, can contribute to inflate, intoxicate, and delude the owner, has been lavished upon this princely residence. I could not describe in a volume all that I saw in two hours in the state-rooms, dining-hall, parlors, saloons, &c. &c.; and yet I saw but a part: for the palace is being partially remodelled, and certain rooms only could be seen. Indeed, it was at this time a particular favor to be admitted at all; and to which favor my being an American citizen contributed no little. I was, however, shown the state bed-chamber, with all its furniture, occupied by the Duchess of Kent and her daughter Queen Victoria, when on a visit here, and at the same time informed that the hall leading to the bed-chamber was 475 feet long. This, it must be remembered, is but one of some six or seven residences furnished and occupied as taste or caprice may dictate, by the Marquis of Westminster.

      But I have said nothing of some twelve ancient Knights, clad in their ancient mail with all their armor on, standing in their respective niches; nor of mirrors which cost $8000 each; nor have I spoken [524] of the pictures of "Cromwell dissolving his Parliament,"--of "the landing of Charles II."--of "the Angel descending with a great chain in one hand and a sword in the other, placing his right foot on the head of the Dragon"--of "Christ taken down from the Cross"--of "the presentation of the Baptist's head by Herodias," &c. &c.; nor have I spoken of the splendid gardens east of the palace--of a single terrace, 350 feet in length, laid out in Gothic compartments, each filled with rare and beautiful flowers, and surrounded with a rich ballustrade, carved in Gothic style; nor of the pleasure grounds and flower gardens, green houses extending over forty-two acres, exclusive of a seven-acre kitchen garden; nor of a Gothic conservatory and temple, the latter erected for the reception of a Roman altar exhumated not far from Chester in 1821; nor of its mosaic pavement found in the palace of Tiberius Cesar, and brought from the island of Capri by Robert Grosvenor, Esq.¹ I say, I have not dilated upon, nor even narrated in detail, these displays of exuberant grandeur with which this palace and its gardens and pleasure grounds abound. Nor do I notice this subject at all in commendation nor in admiration of it, as worthy of man--as worthy of praise, or as characteristic of real greatness. Why, then, I may be asked, occupy time, place, or attention with such a display? I answer--

      1st. For the reason that I have visited other palaces and seats of great resort--that I may see, and feel, and show the littleness of human greatness. This richest of Noblemen and greatest of Peers in the gifts and bounties of fortune, never made a motion nor a speech in the House of Lords, and could not if his salvation depended on it. A motion, perhaps, he might make; but a speech is out of the question. His wealth and greatness, then, confer on him no nobility of mind or talent.

      2d. That I may realize and be able to document the melancholy fact, that the richest inheritance on earth cannot produce nor increase piety.

      The Marquis is a man of this world--gives employment to innumerable laborers, artists, and mechanics; but moves not one step towards heaven. He loves his wife and his thirteen children, and will speak courteously to his neighbors; but no one suspects that he is grateful to God for all these bounties. He is not distinguished for any vice or wickedness, but as little distinguished for any Christian virtue or Christian attribute. He is fond of a good house, a [525] good pack of hounds, and a good chase, and farther than this I am not informed. This world, then, in all its wealth and honors, never makes any man better, but generally makes him worse.

      3d. Immense wealth does but diminish even the pleasures of sense. I opine that the Marquis never derived so much pleasure from a walk in his domains as I did. I saw and relished all the beauties with as keen a zest as he. I could not call them mine. He, it is true, could call them his. But his, too, were the cares to keep them what they are; and his, too, the vexation, the grief, and the expense, when any thing was injured, defaced, or destroyed. The verdant parks--their pleasant walks, their delightful bowers, alcoves, and retreats--their rare tenantry, the deer, the fawn, the hare--the varied shrubbery, the splendid gardens and delicious odors, were as sweet a repast to me as to him. But he saw them often--daily while at home. I but once. But who admires that which is as familiar as the sun, as constant as the moon, and as universal as the verdant face of spring! The words mine and thine are mere magic. Mine, too, is full of pleasure and of pain; and thine, too, just as full. Roses have their thorns, and thistles have the impudence to rise up in thousands and declare war against His Grace the Marquis of Westminster.

      4th. But then comes the responsibility. What pauperism abounds in England! What squalid poverty and wretchedness!! These immense estates are the effects of spoliation consecrated by law. The machinery of British society all works in one direction. It creates Peers, Lords, Nobles, Prelates, Archbishops, and Kings; and it creates for every one of these myriads of paupers--poor, starved, uneducated wretches.

      His Grace is not free from anxiety for his children in such a world as this. Already he feels they cannot all inherit equal wealth and grandeur with himself. Twelve of them must be comparatively poor that one of the thirteen may be exuberantly rich. Again, he must see dangers in advance--he must anticipate an end to this legalized aristocracy. It is too glaring. The contrast is too strong. Human nature cannot always endure. Men may keep silence for a time, but they will speak at last; from words they advance to blows; and then, alas for him that has to fight alone against a thousand! But as Æsop, or some other fabulist, has made Reynard say to his collared cousin--a sleek dog--as he heard him tell how well he fared while he wore the collar, so say I--

	Your affectionate Father,
A. CAMPBELL.

[The Millennial Harbinger, Third Series, 4 (September 1847): 517-526.]