The Sun.
London, England, 1856-02-18 00:00:00

Spirit of the Public Journals.

(From the Times of this day.)

What is that road which you can walk over in a
quarter of an hour, but which you cannot drive
over in less than three-quarters ? Let- no one who
reads this question fancy that we are perplexing his
soul with a conundrum, and that to answer it he
must rack his brains and ransack his memory as if
he were asked by some angelic being—what is
that word of one syllable from which if you take a
couple of letters it becomes a word of two syllables?
Nothing of the kind ; the question is a plain and
honest one, which is to be answered by no puzzling
a the intellect, but only by a little vexatious ex-
perience. The road extends from Blackfriars to
London-bridge, on the Surrey side of the river,
and is about the most disgu3ting and disgraceful
thoroughfare that even this metropolis need be
ashamed of. To ride through it or to walk through
it is simply a choice of evils. It is one of the nar-
rowest, smokiest, muddiest, filthiest, ugliest, sick-
liest, most malodorous, battered, patched-up, dis-
agreeable localities in all London. But one living
pen can do justice to its superlative hideousness.
The Bankside is a kind of marine parade; but those
to whom that title suggests a broad road with a
good pavement, brilliant equipages bowling along,
the sea rolling in with its sullen roar and its plea-
sant breezes, ecstacy in the eyes of the little ones
who scamper about on the donkeys, bashful plea-
sure in those dimples under the great round hats,
and health returning to the cheeks of the poor
souls who go about in Bath chairs, must imagine
the very opposite. Instead of the musical dash of
billows on the beach, there is the plash of the
Thames sliding lazily along, like an overgrown gut-
ter, through the heart of the city ; great barges
drifting clumsily on its surface, like the bits of
wood which boys, in the days when they delight in
dirt-pies, take a pleasure in navigating through the
currents of the common-sewer ; and the water is
so decidedly opaque that one is a little astonished
to read the police admonition by which the inhabi-
tants are particularly requested, for the sake of
decency, not to bathe too near the houses, as if
anybody but Yahoos would bathe in such a stream!
It is the least fault of the road, however, that it
happens to be on the bank of an enormous gutter ;
it is itself a consolidated gutter, and the passenger
who travels that way has literally to "run a muck."
There is not a sense which is not offended, and it
is difficult to say which is offended the most. The
road is nearly as narrow as the pavement for foot
passengers in Regent-street, apparently for the
purpose of bringing the unhappy pilgrim who is
seduced into that byway into closer contact with
the impurities of the place, and of precipitating him
more certainly into the sloughs of despond and pools
of disgust that at proper intervals vary the abomi-
nations of the walk. Barges lie along the Bank-
side, and the wayfarer inevitably rubs shoulders
with a dozen coal heavers before he has completed
his journey ; or, if he has a passion for old iron,
he can gratify it by gazing on a perpetuity of rusty
hoops, broken pots, and old lamp-pests ; while, if
he wishes to indulge his nasal sense, he can at any
time approach one of those barges which are satiri-
cally named after some cherished flower. The
" Forget-me-Not" is being laden with all the con-
centrated refuse of the place from dustholes and
stables innumerable, and the way is blocked up by
carts heavy with manure, as it some Southwark
Hercules were for ever endeavouring to clean out
Augean stables, and couldn't manage it.
These are a few of the delights which assail the
foot passenger as he traverses the only possible
communication parallel with the river between
Blackfriars and London-bridge. The delights of
this kind which the carriage passenger enjoys are
certainly not less, and if he drives in an open
carriage they are very much greater, from the fact
that they must be endured infinitely longer. For
a great part of the way it is impossible for more
than eno vehicle at a time to pass along ; if two
meet each other, one of them must back out, and
the unfortunate individual whose coachman has
been so deluded as to think the Bankside the
shortest cut to London-bridge has the satisfaction
of waiting five minutes behind an immense dung-
cart while the road in front is being cleared, and
while the guard of the Brighton train is giving his
last whistle. The traffic that passes over London-
bridge has now become so great that it is an object
of some importance to relieve it as much as pos-
sible. At all times it was the most used of the
bridges, but now that the railway station absorbs
a greater amount of traffic than any other in Lon-
don, with the exception of Euston-square, the delay
and disappointment to which travellers are sub-
jected by the dead lack of carts, cabs, and omni-
buses, have become an evil of metropolitan magni-
tude, and call for such immediate attention, that
we are not surprised to find the Board of Works
commencing their labours by discussing the ques-
tion of an improved communication between
Blackfriars and London-bridge. There is not a
more important subject for the Board to consider
than the' improvement of the thoroughfare, not
only from the High-street to Btackfriars-road,
which is its worst part, but also to Waterloo-
bridge, and still further to Westminster-bridge.
In a great metropolis, where time is everything,
it is a disgrace that carriages crossing Waterloc-
bridge, or passing from the South-Western station
to the South-Eastern, should have to make a long
circuit in order to have any chance of reaching
their destination unimpeded. The short cuts are
so narrow that they turn out the longest routes ;
and, in order to save time, we must go miles out
of our way.
.*
The improvements which in this respect have
been suggested to the Board of Works regard the
ordinary comfort and expeditious travelling of the
inhabitants, and in this point of view alone are ab-
solutely essential. The object is utility, and that
is, of course, the first thing to be considered ; but
we are disposed also to regard beauty of construction
as an object of far more essential import than our
public bodies are generally inclined to treat it. We
do not work better by working in the midst of dirt
and slovenliness, in buildings that aro dark dens
within and ugly blotches without. There still seems
to linger a feeling that success is greatest iu the
dingy warehouses and most miserable counting-
rooms ; that, in fact, the wealth of London is built
on the ruins of every sense of beauty. Hence the
Thames, which ought to be the noblest thorough-
fare in London, which we ought to be glad to ap-
proach, which we ought to be proud to point to, is
one of the ugliest and hatefullest ; few of us wil-
lingly traverse it, and there is very little of the
river frontage that we care to show to a stranger.
When the sewage of the metropolis is diverted from
this channel, it will certainly be more pleasant to
pass along this highway ; there is one thing we
can always enjoy in its fresh waters, and we can
point with pride to the immense riches' that float
on its waves—to the argosies of every nation that
congregate to our shores. But it is impossible to
impress on our merchants that they might be
wealthy without disfiguring the banks of a noble
river with the most hideous constructions, hud-
dled together in indescribable confusion ? Who
that looks upon either bank of the river, and sees
how it is lined with buildings which look little
better than colossal pigsties and exaggerated cow-
sheds—exactly such architecture as on a snia ler

scale we devote to rabbit•hutches and dog-kennels,
but must feel indignant at the degradation of so
splendid a site ? The nuisance is not the less

real because we are used to it, and because we
can avoid it by the simple expedient of shutting
our eyes.

(From, the Examiner.)
" On 'en'assassine
I " cried the French culprit
under the gripe of *
cries Lord justice. " They slander me,"
Cardigan,under the censure of the
Crimean ConaraiE.,sioners, report. Lord Lucan
echoes the complaint. It is curious enough to see
these two noblemen, who have
fling-
ing dirt on each other, nowraakb-eevriems° freely
against the report, or rather then-evoidenmcoell, wcahtilcslei
inculpates both. Each talks big of his defence,
the word being that of the witchlntr .acbeth,
ourse
"I'll
,as of course
to I'll do, I'll do." Such noble
to be appeased, and Lord Pamnurew ,
there was no intention on the part of tht9w" Sure
sioners to attack the noble earl (CardiganTir hisis
capacity of an officer, but only to express their opt'
nion as regarded other matters." This is the estal
blished Pickwickian explanation ; but surely the
question of a cavalry general's care of her Majsty's
horses involves his capacity as an officer most ma-
terially. If Lord Panmnre's coachman let his
horses die of starvation rather than demean him-
self to fetch their forage from the corn chandler,
would his Lordship consent to give the man a
good character on the' ground that his skill in
driving redeemed the fault through which he had
no horses to drive, and that his capacity as a
coachman was unaffected and unimpeached by
his destruction of his cattle ? A cavalry officer's
less of his horses is analogous to a naval offi-
cer's loss of his ship, for which in cases of blame
so severe 14. punish:-lent is awarded. A dismounted
trooper is, as the Times happily says,like a swan
footing it on a turnpike road. All but the parties
concerned will believe with Lord Panmure, that
there Wa.s no intention: on the part of the commis-
sioners to attack Lords Cardigan and Lucan, or
any °ale else. Their intention was obviously, sim-
ply, and solely to discover and make known the
truth, and their report bears the unmistakeable
stamp of the principle_m
nothing extenuate, nor
aught-set down in malice.„
we trust it will be as
honestly supported as it
has been honestlyt written,
and that there will be no running
with the h k eund s
find holding with the hare. Lord -_
Hardwic e hav-
ing obleryed with good spirit that if ho had been