But if gates are unnecessary, and therefore without "apparent use," in and about London, either for defence, or for exhibiting our perfection in architecture, the writer has at least fallen upon one reason for building them, which, if his account of the matter is to be relied upon, must be listened to at once. They are wanted, it seems, for historical monuments-for supplying the place of those pillars, at first rude, but afterwards sculptured, and even lettered, which men as destitute as ourselves of paper and print, and books and medals, used to erect for the information of their contemporaries and of posterity! "Among these improvements," says the author of the Letter to Sir Charles Long, "I am sorry that nothing is said of any architectural memorial of those great victories, which must otherwise be left to the doubtful and tardy historian alone to commemorate, when the very fact of their existence might be almost questioned, if the streets and squares of this vast city afford no evidence of it (and that by means of gates) from the hands of the architect, or the chisel of the sculptor!"-Will it be easily believed that this sentence is meant to apply itself to London, and appears to have been written in 1825? The writer, however, is for planting his historical gate, or triumphal arch, upon the very spot which is just about to be freed from the turnpike gate, at Hyde Park Corner. This is a project which, with some variety of detail, has been brought forth, and from time to time resisted, ever since the date of the battle of Waterloo; and which the more sensible part of the public has probably regarded as a puerile fancy, or as the proposed job of an architect, or of a sculptor, or of both; and pretty nearly as bad as the subscription monument for the late Princess Charlotte, with its two stone figures of the deceasedone, the body without the soul, and the other, the soul without the body. Before turnpike gates were treated with the little reverence which they obtain since the days of Mr. Cobbett, Mr. M'Adam, aud Lord Lowther, it was innocently proposed to build a triumphal arch at the entrance of Piccadilly, the two limbs of which were to do the duty of the two lodges for the turnpike men, and the hollow entrance, (which would be wanting to our writer's gates) a five or six-barred turnpike gate, secundum artem. But the single idea of building in England, and at the present day, either a gate as a triumphal arch, or an acknowledged triumphal arch as a public monument of a victory, is as inconsistent with good taste, as the placing a statue of Achilles in Hyde. Park as a monument of the victories of the Duke of Wellington and his brave companions in arms. It would not speak to the public; it would remind the public of nothing which has either happened, or is likely to happen. It would speak to none but the readers of books, and who may, therefore, be left to books themselves. If an inscription, or if a sculpture, is to do the business, then either the one or the other of these may be as readily placed upon or against any other wall or building, as upon or against a gate; but if it is the gate, or the arch, which is to speak, then such a building as this latter must be dumb to the public in an age which witnesses no military triumphs or processions. Good taste follows use, nature, and matter of fact. If a city had a gate, built for necessity, and if that gate had actually afforded a passage to a conqueror, and his army, and his prisoners, and his spoils-in that case, it would be natural to attach for VOL. X. No. 57.-1825. 35 ever after to that gate, some connexion with the occurrence, and it might claim a name-it might bear an inscription-it might be embellished or ennobled by sculptures, or by trophies-or its rude architecture might be encased, enriched, and aggrandised with all the pomp and luxury of the building art. Again, the erection of an arch over the road, upon which those whom it is intended to honour are to pass, is natural. An arch, even of two sticks of willow, is a species of canopy. The heart seeks some external mode of expressing its sentiment. When bis late Majesty went into Kent to review the volunteers of that county in Lord Romney's park, arches, formed of single sticks, and decorated with cherries, were raised in many of the villages along the road. This is the origin of the Triumphal Arch. To this type you may add all the pomp of Roman architecture, and sculpture, and gilding; but to build a triumphal arch, where there are no “triumphs," where no conqueror, no army, no prisoners, and no spoils, in solemn procession, and amid the shouts of the people, enter; in a country where, in point of fact, victories are announced to the public only by means of guns and gazettes; where the victor, returning to his home, travels alone, in, a hired chaise and four, and where illuminations (of religious original) supply the place of triumphs: to build triumphal arches in such an age and country is not to speak to the public; is not to consult and address ourselves to public taste or feeling, to public recollection and habitude, and is not, therefore, to be governed by any share of true taste, in the administration of public things. It is not to "consult the genius of the place," nor apparent use," nor historical truth, nor the truth of nature. But if the building of gates is inconsistent with our wants, that is, with our happy capability of enjoying open towns and cities, and if triumphal arches have no origin and reason in our national or military manners, and even if our victories are in no lack, nor are likely to be in lack, of speedy and accredited historians, who may well be expected to last, or at least to succeed each other, as long, in any case, as our "streets and squares," are we still denied the pleasure of expressing even the exuberance of our historical propensity in the shape of inscriptions, sculptures, and even architectural labours-labours of apparent and absolute use-labours adapted to and even demanded by our necessities-labours which would increase the appearance of security and comfort in our metropolis, and even advance its local prosperity? What if (provided we abound in superfluous capital, or are even preeminent in the organ of constructiveness) what if, instead of building useless gates, we build useful bridges ?-Are not bridges as ornamental as gates? Are they not equal specimens of architecture, and equally adapted to bear inscriptions, and to be decorated with sculpture and would not their utility, considering the topography of London, be more than unequal? This suggestion, however, is in part jocular. Bridges, no more than gates, are to be built for the sake of bearing a name; but bridges, and not only bridges, but streets and squares, when built, may be named (as our continental neighbours name their gates) in honour of national victories: and, in point of fact, have we not a Waterloo Bridge? and who is there that would exchange it for the sake either of utility, beauty, or historical reminiscence, with a gate to be erected only that it may be called Waterloo Gate? Before leaving, however, in company with our author, the entire vicinity of Hyde Park Corner, it may be agreeable to make a circuit with him down Knightsbridge, and into Hyde Park. The entrance into London from Knightsbridge, with St. James's and the Green Parks, and Westminster Abbey, and Buckingham House on the right, and the Terrace on the left, possesses in its present state, that cheerful and ornate beauty, that light, airy, and open appearance, which, to the writer of these remarks, it seems so desirable that London should every where enjoy. The substitution of an iron railing for the old wall is an elegant and liberal improvement; the throwing out some ten or fifteen feet of the park, into the high road upon this occasion, may seem somewhat over-liberal; and, if it has been done only for the sake of obtaining a strait line, the reason may be hardly good enough. At the termination of the iron railing westward, a short portion of Knightsbridge, or perhaps Knightsbridge-proper, is as ugly and as narrow as can be wished. It opens again, and as handsomely as need be desired, at the Cannon Brewhouse, a building of which the author of the letter to Sir Charles Long speaks contemptuously, but which to the writer of these remarks has long appeared to possess unusual beauty, (that part which is surmounted by the sign of the Cannon is here intended,) so much so, that he always wished a street to open opposite to it, and regrets that another arrangement has taken place; so much for difference of tastes. Close to, but below this spot, the new turnpike gate is erecting; and, considering the comparative narrowness of this part of Knightsbridge, it seems a matter to be lamented that the choice did not fall to the eastward of the bridge, where the road, footways and all, are so remarkably, and almost uselessly wide, and therefore so well adapted to lessen the inconveniences attendant upon partial and temporary stoppages of the traffic by the turnpike gate. But something has been said about the fixing of the turnpike where it now appears that it is to be fixed, in accommodation of the interests of the Earl Grosvenor, whose property is said to terminate at the bridge, or the brook which comes from the Serpentine river, where also terminates the parish of St. George, Hanover-square. -This brook, by the way, gave occasion for the bridge (no longer visible) in the high road, which obtained the name of Knightsbridge, and thence distinguished the neighbourhood. The author of the Letter expresses a hope that the iron railing of Hyde Park will be continued downward to Kensington, and that entrances will be made along this line for the convenience of the public. The writer of these remarks confesses that he had formed in his own mind, a different plan for the improvement of this part of the Park, from that which has been begun, and is now likely to be adopted. Looking both to the value of the ground, and to the cheerfulness and security of the adjoining high road, he had thought that a series of cottage villas (as the phrase is), with very small allotments of land, might have been placed along the road, and planted out upon the side of the Park. The writer of these remarks is not so well satisfied with the new road opened through the Deer Park, as the author of the Letter and many other persons express themselves to be; and he decidedly pro tests against the erection of any other bridges across the Serpentine river than those now existing. The new road keeps sufficiently clear of any such project at present; and a passage for carriages across the river ought to be regarded as wholly unneeded and undesirable. The writer's objection to the new road is, first, that it breaks in upon the sylvan solitude, and apparent privacy of the portion of Kensington Gardens which it approaches, and which solitude and privacy he suspects to have been part of the taste of the ancient designers to create and preserve; but farther than this, he doubts its value upon account of the dust which, if used, it will waft into the gardens with every east wind; a wind sufficiently prevalent in the spring, or fashionable season, and sufficiently annoying already to the frequenters of that part of the Gardens. The quantity of dust which flies over the southern wall, from the two roads upon that side of the gardens, often forming a cloud along the whole length of the green walk, stretching from east to west, greater than can be easily believed. The new gate of the Gardens in the south-west corner, is a very desirable improvement, and commodious carriage entrance; but if a similar carriage entrance immediately into the Gardens, is wanted at the north-east corner or Brickden Hill, it might be made upon the side of the high road, in the manner and in a line with the gate in the south-west corner, that is, at Bayswater. Mention having been now made of the Serpentine river, and the question being concerning landscape improvements and beauty, it may be allowable, after paying a tribute to the real charms of the two bridges and their trees below, to say that the artificial water-fall, so well, as also so expensively contrived in many respects, has a fault, in the building of its rocks, which, though kindly overlooked by cockneys, even in these days of the picturesque, cannot but give unconquerable pain to the eyes of all who have become familiar with natural waterfalls, and which really ought not to disfigure a work of art in such a situation. The fault consists in this; that whereas, in the form of the banks or borders of every natural waterfall, the immediate receptacle of the fall is hollowed and outspread into a basin, according to the volume of the water which occasionally descends-the stream above and below the fall may thus be narrow, but the immediate and first receptacle of the water will be hollowed and widened by the water itselfNow, at the foot of the Serpentine river, it is the immediate foot and receptacle of the fall that is narrow (that is, enclosed by two rectilinear walls of stone,) while the basin, or widening of the banks, does not commence till at some distance from the foot. It is another fault of this work of art (but one in which it shares with the Falls of Niagara), that it cannot be conveniently viewed but from the top, while all the charm and majesty of a fall of water depend upon its being seen from below. The widening of Park-Lane, by means of a generous sacrifice of some feet of the Park, and the opening of a new and very wide road upon that side, are exceedingly valuable improvements. The author of the Letter to Sir Charles Long supposes that the fashionable world will fly from the dust and crowd of the old line of road, and disperse their elegant carriages "through the Deer Park;" but surely the object of the kind of drive or promenade here under consideration, is to see and be seen; to meet the world out of doors; and not to ruralise among the green-wood trees. The anticipation of the author, therefore, may not be entirely fulfilled, when he says, that "there can be little doubt that fashion will, in this instance, not entirely discard common sense; but that we shall see its votaries, as well as reasonable people, no longer confine themselves, as now, to creeping along the most unpicturesque road in the whole Park; but shewing their elegant carriages and fine horses over the whole extended surface of its rides and drives, giving life and increased beauty to the scene." "The new lodges," continues this writer, " are very pretty, though on so diminutive a scale, that those who are fond of sneering at things that less enlightened persons are commonly pleased with, might say that they seemed to be constructed for the purpose of enhancing by contrast the neighbouring gigantic statue, or of tempting some desperate dandy to leap over them, in his transit to or from the Park.” But this is a scheme for a witticism which can have little chance of being applauded. The lodges are larger than any of the old lodges in the Park, and how can lodges be other than small buildings? In addition, they are remarkably beautiful; perhaps faultless; and it is to be hoped and expected will multiply, and produce some such another pair as themselves, to stand, along with another set of gates, at Hyde Park Corner. THE PREPONDERATING MOTIVE. SAID Lady Blue to Lady Brown, "Brighton's a winter place, you know, Tower cits at Margate overflow, "Broadstairs and Southend common are, "Tonbridge too near, Scarborough too far- "Fashion and grave society, Said Lady Brown to Lady Blue: I would not disagree with you; The bare thought makes me grieve. "But Worthing is a dull, dull town, Are needful there to force time down, "I must have rout, and ball, and play, I cannot dribble life away In sentimental pain, "Pore o'er dull books, or walk the strand, I am for Tonbridge, hate flat sand, Sca-dipping, air and spray. |