No. 77.] London Magazine: A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION FRANK FAIRLEGH; OR, OLD COMPANIONS IN NEW SCENES. By F. E..S. CHAP. XV. THE CATASTROPHE. I DID not return to the cottage till just the usual hour for going to bed, as I did not dare subject myself to Fanny's penetrating glance, in my present state of excitement. The moment family prayers were concluded, I took my candle, and, pleading fatigue, retired to my room. Knowing that sleep was out of the question in my then frame of mind, I merely substituted the clothes I intended to wear in the inorning for those I had on, and, wrapping my dressing-gown round me, flung myself on the bed. Here I lay, tossing about, and unable to compose myself, for an hour or VOL. III. two, the one idea constantly recurring to me, if Coleman should fail!" "What At length, feverish and excited, I sprang up, and throwing open the window, which was near the ground, enjoyed the fresh breeze, which played around my heated temples. It was a lovely night; the stars, those calm eyes of Heaven, gazed down in their bright effulgence on this world of sin and sorrow, seeming to reproach the stormy passions and restless strife of men, by contrast with their own impassive grandeur. After remaining motionless for several minutes, I was about to close the window, when the sound of a footstep on the turf beneath caught my ear, and a form, which I recognised in the moonlight as that of Archer, approached. 66 "Up and dressed, Fairlegh?" he commenced, in a 'may I come in?" low tone, as he perceived me; In silence I held out my hand to him, and assisted him to enter. "Like me," he resumed, "I suppose, you could not sleep." 66 Utterly impossible," replied I; "but what brings you here has any thing occurred?" Nothing," returned Archer, "Oaklands retired early, as he said he wished to be alone, and I followed his example, but could not contrive to sleep,-I don't know how it is, I have been engaged in an affair of this nature before, and never cared a pin about the matter: but somehow I have got what they call a presentiment that harm will occur. I saw that man, Wilford, for a minute yesterday, and I know by the expression of his eye that he means mischief; there was such a fiendish look of triumph in his face, when he found the challenge was accepted-if ever there was a devil incarnate, he is one." A sigh was my only answer, for his words were but the echo of my forebodings. 66 Now I will tell you what brought me here," he continued; "don't you think that we ought to have a surgeon at hand, in case of anything going wrong?" appointed spot by five o'clock. In our way we had to pass within a quarter of a mile of Heathfield Hall; all seemed quiet as we did so, and I heard the old clock over the stables strike a quarter to five. We shall be in capital time," said I, drawing a long breath, as I felt relieved from an anxious dread of being too late; "it was a near thing though, and if I had not met you as I did, we should scarcely have done it." "Famous horse." replied Ellis, "but you've rather over-driven him the last two or three miles; if I were Archer, I should have a little blood taken from himnothing like venesection, it's safe practice in such cases as the present; you've a remarkably clear head, Fairlegh, I know; now I'll just explain to you the common sense of the thing: the increased action of the heart forces the blood so rapidly through the lungs, that proper time is not allowed for oxygenization,-" "We shall be in sight of the place, when we have advanced another hundred yards," interrupted I, as we turned down a green lane. "Shall we?" replied my companion, standing up in the gig, and shading his eyes with his hand. "Yes, I see them, they're on the ground already, and, by Jove, they are placing their men; they must have altered the time, for it wants full ten minutes of five now." "To be sure," replied I; "I must have been mad to have forgotten that it was necessary-what can be done?-it is not every man that would choose to be mixed up with such an affair. Where is it that William Ellis's brother, the man who came up to Cambridge two months ago to see him, has settled--he told me he had bought a practice somewhere in our neighbour-gallop, as I remembered that this unhappy change hood." would probably frustrate Coleman's scheme, "if they have, all is lost." "The very man, if we could but get him," replied Archer; the name of the village is Harley End: do you know such a place?" "Yes," returned I, "I know it well; it is a favourite meet of the hounds, about twelve miles from hence. I'll find him, and bring him here-what time is it? just two- if I could get a horse, I would do it easily "My tilbury and horse are up at the village," said Archer; "now Harry's horses are at home, they could not take mine in at the Hall." "The very thing," said I, "we will not lose a moment is your horse fast I shall have to try his metile." " He'll not fail you," was the reply, "do not spare him I would rather have you ruin fifty horses, than arrive too late." On reaching the inn, we had to rouse a drowsy hostler, in order to procure the key of the stables, and it was half-past two before I was able to start. The road to Harley End was somewhat intricate, more than once I took a wrong turning, and had to retrace my steps; being aware also of the distance I had to perform, I did not dare to hurry the horse too much, so that it only wanted a quarter to four, when I reached my destination. Here however fortune favoured me. Mr. Ellis, it appeared, being an ardent disciple of Isaac Walton, had resolved to rise at day-break, in order to beguile sundry trout, and at the entrance of the village I met him strolling along, rod in hand. Two minutes sufficed to make him acquainted with the object of my mission, and, in less than five minutes more, (a space of time which I employed in washing out the horse's mouth at an opportune horse-trough, with which I took the liberty of making free,) he had provided himself with a case of instruments, and other necessary horrors, all of which he described to me seriatim, as we returned, with an affectionate minuteness for which I could have strangled him. We started at a rattling pace on our homeward drive, hedge-row and paling gliding by us, like slides in a magic lantern. Archer's horse did not belie the character he had given of him. With head erect, and expanded nostril, he threw his legs forward in a long slashing trot, whirling the light tilbury along at the rate of between eleven and twelve miles an hour; and fortunate it was that he did not flinch from his work, for we had between thirteen and fourteen miles to perform in an hour and ten minutes, in order to reach the "If they have," replied I, lashing the horse into a My companion gazed at me with a look of surprise, but had no time to ask for an explanation, for at that moment, we reached the gate leading into the field, around which was collected a group, consisting of a gig and a dog-cart, (which had conveyed the respective parties, and a servant attendant upon each, to the ground,) and two or three labouring men, whom the unusual occurrence had caused to leave their work, and who were eagerly watching the proceedings-whilst, just inside the gate, a boy, whom I recognised as Wilford's tiger, was leading about a couple of saddlehorses, one of them being the magnificent black thorough-bred mare, of which mention has been already made. Pulling up the horse with a jerk which threw him on his haunches, I sprang out, and placing my hand on the top rail of the gate, leaped over it, gaining as I did so, a full view of the antagonist parties, who were stationed at about two hundred yards from the spot where I alighted. Scarcely however had I taken a step or two towards the scene of action, when one of the seconds, Wentworth, I believe, dropped a white handkerchief, and immediately the sharp report of a pistol rang in my ear, followed instantaneously by a second. From the first moment I caught sight of them, my eyes had become riveted, by a species of fascination which rendered it impossible to withdraw them, upon the figure of Oaklands. As the handkerchief dropped, I beheld him raise his arm, and discharge his pistol in the air, at the same moment he gave a violent start, pressed his hand to his side, staggered blindly forward a pace or two, then fell heavily to the ground, (rolling partially over as he did so.) where he lay, perfectly motionless, and to all appearance dead. On finding all my worst forebodings thus apparently realized, I stood for a moment horror-stricken by the fearful sight I had witnessed. I was first roused to a sense of the necessity for action by Ellis the surgeon, who shouted as he ran past me, "Come on, for God's sake, though I believe he's a dead man!" In another moment I was kneeling on the turf, assisting Archer (who trembled so violently that he could scarcely retain his grasp) to raise and support Oaklands's head. Leave him to me," said I; "I can hold him without assistance; you will be of more use helping Ellis." "Oh! he's dead-I tell you he is dead!" exclaimed Archer, in a tone of the most bitter anguish. 66 He is no such thing. Sir," returned Ellis, angrily; "hand me that lint, and don't make such a fuss; you confuse one." was enclosed by a strong fence, consisting of a bank with oak palings on the top, and a wide ditch beyond. Slackening his pace as he approached this obstacle, he held his horse cleverly together, and without a moment's hesitation rode her at it. The beautiful animal, gather Though slightly reassured by Ellis's speech, I confessing her legs well under her, faced it boldly, rose to the that, as I looked upon the motionless form I was sup. porting, I felt half inclined to fear Archer might be correct in his supposition. Oaklands's head, as it rested against me, seemed to lie a perfectly dead weight upon my shoulder; the eyes were closed, the lips, partly separated, were devoid of the slightest tinge of colour, whilst from a small circular orifice on the left side of the chest the life-blood was gushing with fearful rapidity. Open that case of instruments, and take out the tenaculum.-No, no! not that; here, give them to me, Sir; the man will bleed to death while you are fumbling," continued Ellis, snatching his instruments from the trembling hands of Archer." You are of no use where you are," he added; "fetch some cold water, and sprinkle his face; it will help to revive him." At this moment Wilford joined the group which was beginning to form round us. He was dressed, as usual, in a closely-fitting suit of black, the single-breasted frock coat buttoned up to the neck, so as not to show a single speck of white which might serve to direct his antagonist's aim. He approached with his wonted air of haughty indifference, coolly fastening the button of his glove as he did so. On perceiving me, he slightly raised his hat, saying 66 You are resolved to see this matter to its conclusion, then, Mr. Fairlegh: no one can be better aware than you are how completely your friend brought his fate upon himself." He paused, as if for an answer; but, as I remained silent, not daring to trust myself to speak, he added, gazing sternly at the prostrate form before him,"Thus perish all who presume to cross my path!" then casting a withering glance around, as he marked the indignant looks of the by-standers, he turned on his heel, and stalked slowly away. "He'd best quicken his pace," observed one of the countrymen who had joined the group, "for there's them a coming as may stop his getting away quite so easy." As he spoke, the gate of the field was thrown open, and a couple of men on horseback rode hastily in. Wilford, however, as soon as he perceived their approach, made a sign to the boy to bring his horse, aud springing lightly into the saddle, waited quietly till they came near enough for him to recognise their faces, when, raising his voice, he said in a tone of the most cutting sarcasm, "As I expected, I perceive it is to Mr. Cumberland's disinterested attachment that I am indebted for this kind attempt to provide for my safety; it so happens that you are a quarter of an hour too late, Sir. I wish you good morning." rail, and, clearing it with the greatest ease, bounded lightly over the ditch, and continued her course on the further side with unabated speed. Apparently determined not to be outdone, his pursuer, whipping and spurring with all his might, charged the fence at the same spot where Wilford had cleared it; the consequence was, his horse rushed against the rail, striking his chest with so much violence as to throw himself down, pitching his rider over his head into the ditch beyond, whence he emerged, bespattered with mud, indeed, but otherwise uninjured. As he reappeared, bis companion rode up to him, and, after conversing with him earnestly for a minute or so, turned and left the field without exchanging a word with any other person. During this transaction, which did not occupy one-fourth of the time it has taken to describe, Ellis had in a great measure succeeded in staunching the flow of blood, and a slight shade of colour became again visible in Oaklands's lips. "He will bear moving now," said Ellis, quickly, "but you must find something to lay him upon; take that gate off its hinges, some of you fellows, that will answer the purpose capitally. Come, bestir yourselves; every moment is of importance." Thus urged, five or six sturdy labourers, who had been standing round gazing with countenances of rude but sincere commiseration on the wounded man, (for Harry's kind-heartedness and liberality made him very popular amongst the tenantry,) started off, and returned in an incredibly short space of time with the gate; upon this were spread our coats and waistcoats, so as to form a tolerably convenient couch, on to which, under Ellis's direction, we lifted with the greatest caution the still insensible form of Harry Oaklands, Now," exclaimed Ellis, "raise him very slowly on your shoulders, and take care to step together, so as not to jolt him;-if the bleeding should begin again he's a dead man. Where's the nearest house he can be taken to He'll never last out till we reach the hall." "Take him to our cottage," said I, eagerly; "it is more than half a mile nearer than the hall." But your mother and sister?" asked Archer. Of course it will be a great shock to them," replied I; "but I know them both well enough to feel sure they would not hesitate a moment where Harry's life was in the balance. Do you want me for anything, or shall I go on and prepare them for your arrival?" "Do so, by all means," replied Ellis; "but stay,have you a bedroom on the ground floor?" "Yes," returned I. " my own.' "Have the bed-clothes opened," continued Ellis, "so that we can put him in at once; it will save me half an hour's time afterwards, and is a thing which should always be thought of on these occasions." Anything else!" inquired I. "Yes, send somebody for the nearest surgeon; two heads are better than one," said Ellis. Thus saying, he turned his horse's head and can tered lightly across the field. The man he had addressed, and in whom, though he was considerably altered, I recognised the well-remembered features of Richard Cumberland, paused, as if in doubt what Remembering, as I approached the cottage, that the to do; not so his companion, however, who shout- window of my room, by which Archer and I had quitted ing, Come on, Sir, and we may nab him yet."-it the previous night, would be unfastened, I determined drove the spurs into the stout roadster he bestrode, and galloped furiously after him, an example which Cumberland, after a moment's hesitation, hastened to follow, though at a more moderate speed. Wilford suffered the foremost rider to come nearly up to him, and then, quickening his pace, led him round the two sides of the field; but perceiving that the gate was closed, and men had stationed themselves in front of it to prevent his egress, he doubled upon his pursuers, and putting the mare for the first time to her full speed, galloped towards the opposite side of the field, which I would enter there, and, proceeding to my mother's door, call her up, and break the news as gently as the exigency of the case would permit, leaving her to act by Fanny as she should think best. Accordingly I flung up the window, sprang in, and throwing myself on the nearest chair, sat for a moment, panting from the speed at which I had come. As I did so, a timid knock was heard at the door. I instinctively cried, "Come in!" and Fanny entered. I have been so anxious all night about what you told me yesterday, that I could not sleep, so I thought I would come to see if you were up," she commenced; 66 66 No," replied I, on my word, on my honour, assure you he is not; the bleeding had ceased when I left him, which is a favourable symptom." Fanny sighed heavily, as if relieved from some unbearable weight, and, after remaining silent for about a minute, she removed her hands from her face, and said, in a calm tone of voice, " And now, what is to be done? can I be of any use?" Astonished at the rapidity with which she had regained her self-control and presence of mind after the violent emotion she had so recently displayed, I replied, Yes, love, you can; the Hall is too far off, and they are bringing him here." As I spoke these words, she shuddered slightly, but seeing I was doubtful whether to proceed, she said, firmly, "Go on, pray." "Would you," I continued, "break this to my mother, and tell her I believe-that is, I trust-there is no great danger-and-and-do that first." The roof, or ceiling, is, however, a fine specimen of skilful and elaborate design; yet, as a means of lighting the apartment, its merit is much disputed by artistic critics. Von Raumer, for instance, condemns the immensely high wall which cannot be hung with paintings: and he maintains that the light, coming from above, or two sides, is false, insufficient, and moreover broken by the architectural decorations. "It is to be remarked, that the lighting of the whole of the state apartments has been effected under the most rigid artistic taste. In each of the various drawing-rooms, for instance, the glass is tinted, so as to harmonize with the general tone of the decorations." Occasionally, this gallery is used as a ball-room; or, shortened by screens, bearing beaufets of superb plate, and priceless articles of vertu, in it are given state banquets. The collection of pictures is very valuable, and comIprises, in the main, works of the Flemish and Dutch schools. The chief exceptions are Reynolds's Death of Dido, and his Cymon and Iphigenia; a landscape by Gainsborough, and a few recent English works: some pictures by Wattcau; and an interesting evidence of Titian's versatility-a landscape, with herdsmen and cattle, by that master. Among the finest works are three by Albert Durer, seven by Rembrandt, seventeen by Teniers, five by Ostade, six by Gerard Dow, nine by Cuyp, eight by Wouvermans, ihree by Paul Potter, six by Rubens, five by Vandyke, in addition to his various portraits of children. Among Rembrandt's pictures is The Wise Men's Offering; among Vandyke's, The Marriage of St. Catherine; among Albert Durer's, The Miser; and among Rubens's, the portrait of his wife. Claude's Europa also enriches the collection. Its history explains the great number of Dutch pictures: they belonged, for the most part, to George the Fourth, who purchased them from Sir Francis Baring, and was proud enough ever afterwards of his acquisition. With a sad shake of the head, as if she mistrusted my attempt to reassure her, she quitted the room, whilst I obeyed Ellis's instructions by preparing the bed, after which I unclosed the hall-door, and despatching the gardener's boy to fetch the surgeon, stood anxiously awaiting the arrival of the party. I had not done so many minutes, when the measured tramp of feet gave notice of their approach, and in another instant they came in sight. A LITTLE TALK ABOUT BUCKINGHAM Nor are the arts in Buckingham Palace confined to this gallery; for there is not a room which does not boast of some paintings. Music, also, has its full patronage; there being a grand pianoforte in each of the state rooms, except the throne chamber. Leaving the picture gallery, we enter, from its centre, the Roman drawing-room, which, because it contains, like the library immediately under it, a circular front, is called, also, "the bow-room." South of this is the yellow drawing-room, and beyond it the state diningNorthward of the bow-room is the music-room, communicating with the private apartments of Her Majesty, which extend along the whole of the northern front of the palace. room. We have thus completed our survey of the eastern front of the palace its main apartments open into The most interesting feature of the bow-room, and the the picture gallery, on the opposite side of which drawing-rooms right and left of it, is a series of sculpis the western front, comprising a suite of three draw-tures in relief, by Pitts, an artist of great promise, who ing-rooms, and other apartments. The gallery is about one hundred and eighty feet in length, and twenty-six feet in breadth. It has a semi-Gothic roof, lighted by a triple row of compartments filled with rich diapered ground glass, bearing the stars of all the orders of knighthood in Europe. At each end is a semi-circular arch resting upon coupled Corinthian columns, and communicating with a lobby with an enriched doorway. "The gallery, like that of the Louvre, is long and straight; but, unlike the French picture corridor-that lane of pictures with no turning, the otherwise monotonous flatness of the walls is broken by the ornamented doorways, which lead to the two suites of apartments east and west. These ornaments are of a chaste character, and present nothing to attract the eye from the paintings hung upon the walls." The settees and chairs are plain, the frames of the pictures are neat rather than gorgeous; in short, there is no rivalry set up, as is too often the case, between the decorator and the painter. (1) Concluded from page 378. died young. Thus, the frieze in the bow-room represents Eloquence, Pleasure, and Harmony; and in the music-room, within arches of the elliptical ceiling, are three reliefs, representing the apotheoses of the poets, Spencer, Shakspere, and Milton-cach comprising numerous subordinate figures. In the yellow drawing-room, the sculptor has left us a series of twelve reliefs illustrative of the origin and progress of Pleasure: namely, Love Awakening the Soul to Pleasure ;-the Soul in the Bower of Fancy;-the Pleasure of Decoration;-the Invention of Music;--the Pleasure of Music; -the Dance;-the Masquerade;-the Drama;-the Contest for the Palm ;-the Palm Resigned;-the Struggle for the Laurel; the Laurel Obtained. The floors of these drawing-rooms are very superb; being bordered with satin and rosewood, inlaid with devices of rose and tulip-wood. The bow-room has a domed ceiling, enriched with the national emblems, and supported by scagliola lapis-lazuli columns. The music-room has an orchestra gallery at the south end; and for the company are provided brass-framed seats, with velvet cushions. Of the entire suite, however, the yellow drawing-room is the most superb. It has a lofty cove, richly gilt, and ornamented with heraldic shields, beneath which is the series of bas-reliefs described above; and in these designs there is so much classic beauty that we regret to see the continuation broken by the introduction of medallion portraits, even though they be of royal and illustrious personages. But the main beauty of the apartment lies in the harmony of colour adopted for its draperies, &c.; namely, a series of shades of yellow, ranging almost from brown to green; the effect is truly elegant and artistic, and we remember the like success in the principal drawing-room of the Reform club-house in Pall Mall. Upon the figured yellow silk walls of the palace apartment are hung whole length portraits of royal personages; and at each end, and above the chimney-piece, are placed brilliant mirrors. The chimney-piece is of exquisitely white marble, sculptured by Westmacott. The furniture of the room is truly sumptuous; as is also the assemblage of vases filled with flowers, clocks, bronzes, inlaid tables, cabinets, &c. To quote a contemporary, "all that luxury can desire, or skill and wealth accomplish, to make this apartment magnificent, in the ordinary mode of obtaining magnificence, is to be found here in an extraordinary degree." We must now sum up the characteristics of the entire pile. The principal merit, such as it is, lies in the sculptural enrichments of the palace; and the appropriate nationality of their subjects, for the intellectual adornment of the residence of a British sovereign. The marble chimney-pieces, too, are sculptured with caryatides and other figures of life size, and a profusion of fruit, flowers, &c. Yet, the figures are condemned as groups of "pigmies and Brobdignagians huddled together; people from two to six feet high, living in admirable harmony. The smaller figures have such miserable spider legs and arms, that one would fancy they had been starved in a time of scarcity, and were | come to the king's palace to fatten."-( Von Raumer.) This acute critic also points out in the same apartment, "fragments of Egypt, Greece, Etruria, Rome, and the Middle Ages, all confusedly mingled together;" and he concludes by asserting "this palace to stand as a very clear proof that wealth, without knowledge of art and taste, cannot effect so much as moderate means, aided by knowledge and sound judgment." for the purposes of state balls, two or three of which entertainments are usually given by Her Majesty during the London season. Then, the entire suite of rooms, seven in number, (including the picture-gallery,) is used; and the space beneath the central portico, and over the entrance to the great hall, by aid of Tippoo Saib's tent, is formed into a refreshment-room, as we have already described; whilst a similar extension is gained by drapery, in the balcony of the central western or bow saloon. These temporary extensions are set with flowering plants, and thus supply the relief of fragrant coolness. Plants are likewise placed in the picture gallery, where the brilliant bloom of nature thus alternates with the perfection of art. The rooms are mostly lighted by wax; and in cases where lamps are employed, Professor Faraday's beautiful mode of carrying off the heat and smoke by tubes is employed, with increased brilliancy of illumination and perfect ventilation. There have been two memorable occasions since Her Majesty's accession to the throne, upon which Buckingham Palace presented a scene of almost gorgeous enchantment. These were at the costume balls, or masques, given in 1842 and 1845. The first fête was in the style of the reign of Edward III., the best age of English costume and architecture; so that, in the latter respect, the palace presented, everywhere, an ill-assorted anachronism. In the fête of 1845, the costumes (1740 to 1750) harmonized better with the palace interior. This was the age of hoop and embroidery, brocade and stiffened point lace, high-heeled shoes, powder and patches, such as we see in the porcelain figures of Sevres, Dresden, and Chelsea, and the pictures of Watteau, and Boucher; nor must we forget the equally characteristic male costume of the period- the squarecut coats, and long-flapped waistcoats; the large hanging cuffs and lace ruffles, and stiffened skirts; the long outer stockings, and high-heeled shoes; and the endless wigs, and laced and feathered three-cornered hats-all belong to the exquisite of the time of our second George. At the ball of 1845, Musard wielded his baton in an orchestra built in the cove of the throne-room, where the graceful minuet was danced; the picture-gallery being appropriated to the more joyous "Sir Roger de Coverley." Supper was served in the great dining-room, where the magnificence of the plate beaufet, the brilliancy of the lights and flowers, the elaborate richness of the costumes, and the beauty and noble mien of the actors in this retrospective drama of taste, presented a scene of surpassing splendour. When, indeed, "did morning ever break" to dispel a more delightful illusion than the royal masques of 1842 and 1845. With all these artistical defects and drawbacks, it cannot, however, be denied, that for mere purposes of show and state splendour, the suite of rooms at Buckingham Palace is not ill adapted, now that an additional staircase for egress has been provided. The suite, for convenience, cannot be compared with that of St. There are certain points of improved construction in James's Palace, which, indeed, has scarcely a parallel in the palace, which we must not lose sight of among its Europe. The rooms of the latter are, however, some-less intrinsic merits. In roofing the edifice, Mr. Nash .what heavy in their style of decoration (that of the employed a composition of hot coal-tar, lime, and sand, reign of Queen Anne); there are certain aims at classic which has withstood wear and tear much better than elegance, and that of an intellectual character, in the his architectural taste; and the floors, formed of castembellishments of Buckingham Palace, which are at- iron, arched with hollow bricks, are fire-proof. The tractive and interesting, though their success be but offices are, generally, well-appointed; but numbers of fragmentary. The nationality of the sculptures, as we blackened supplementary pipes which rise from the have before said, is one of their redeeming points; and roof, seem to indicate that one of the greatest plagues the variety of the styles of decoration is another attrac- of domestic life, "a smoky chimney," is by no means a tion, though a subordinate one. It is impossible to rarity at the palace.1 deny a certain grandeur and beauty to the sculptured marble door-cases and chimney-pieces, with their colossal caryatidal figures, their bold scroll-work and medallic portraits; the claim to the originating of all this sumptousness is somewhat frequently asserted in the royal cyphers G. R. which meet the eye at every available opportunity; and remembering how unsparingly abuse, critical and unartistic, has been showered upon the entire design of the palace, the last of the Georges has not been grudged this distinction by one of the liege subjects of his successors. Up pon no occasion are the gorgeous appointments of the palace so successfully called into requisition as (1) Immediately under the palace passes "the King's Scholars' Pond Sewer," the main drain of one of the principal divisions of the Westminster Commission of Sewers, occupying the whole channel of a rivulet formerly known as Dye Brook, having its source at Hampstead, and draining an area of 2,000 acres, 1,500 of In its present complete state, it is, perhaps, the most remarkable and extensive piece of sewerage ever executed in this, or any other country. |