Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1877-12-07
BY MARX TWAIN.

did think of it. Hurry, now. CAB at tn
door.
1t was past IL O'Clock. and | was Just soinl
to bed. But this friend OF mine was as re
liable as lie was eccentric, and so there Wa
no doubt in my mind that his Expedition
had merit in it. Iput on my coat and boot
again. and We drove away.
Where is it? Where are We going
Don't worry. You'll see"
He was not inclined to talk So though
this must be a weighty matter. My curiosi
ty grew with the minutes, but kept IT man
fully under the surface. | watched the lamps
the signs, the numbers, as We thundered
down the long streets. but it was of no use
am always lost in London, day OF night 1t
was very chilly almost bleak. People lean
ed against the gusty blasts as If 1t were the
dead OF winter. The crowds grew thinner
and thinner, and the noises waNed FAINT and
seemed far away The sky was overcast and
threatening. We drove on, and still on. till
| wondered if We were ever going to stop.
| At last We passed by a spacious bridge ana a
vast building with a lighted clock-tower, and
presently entered gateway, passed through
a sort of tunnel, and stopped In court sur
rounded by the black outlines OF great edl-
fee Then we alighted walked dozen steps
or SO. and waited. 1na little while footsteps
were heard, and Il man merged from the
darkness and We dropped into LIS wake With
out saving anything. He let us under an
archway of masonry and from that into a
roomy tunnel, through a tau iron gate, which
he locked behind us We followed him down
this tunnel. guided more by his footsteps on
the stone tagging than by Any thing we could
very distinctly see. At the end of 1t we came
to another iron gate, and our conductor stop
ped there and lighted Il little bull's-eye Ian
tern Then he unlocked the gate-and
wished he had oiled it first. it grated SO dis
maly. The gate swung open and We stood
| on the threshold of what seemed a lImitless
domed and pillared cavern carved out of the
solid darkness. The conductor and my
friend took off their hats reyerently, and
| did likewise Thus for the moment that we
| stood there, there was not sound and the
| silence seemed to add to the solemnlty OF the
! gloom. looked my inquiry. He answered !:
at il the tomb Of the great dead OF Eng
| land Westminster Abbey "
| Zone cannot express a start IN words).
| Down among the columns ever SO lar away,
it seemed a light revealed itself like star,
and voice came echoing through the spa
| cious emptiness
who goes there"
The star disappeared, and the footsteps
that accompanied it claDked ont OF hearing
| in the distance Mr. W held up his Ian
tern, and the vague vastness took something
| of form to itself the stately columns de-
veloped stronger outlines, and dim pallor
| here and there marked the places OF lofty
windows We were among the tombs and
on every hand dull shapes Of men, sitting.
standing, or stopping, inspected us curiously
out of the darkness reaching out their
hands towards us some appealing, some
beckoning, some warning us away. Efhgies
Al tla lint
they looked human and natural IN the murky
shadows. Now little hali-grown black and
white cat squeezed herself through the bars
of the iron gate and came purring lovingly
about u.s. unawed by the time or place, un-
impressed by the marble pomp that sepul-
chres line of mighty dead that ends with
great author of Yesterday and began with Il
sceptered monarch away back in the dawn OF
history more than twelve hundred years ago.
And she followed us about and never lett us
while we pursued our work. We wandered
hither and thither, uncovered, speaking IN
low voices, and stepping softly by instinct,
for anv little noise rang and echoed there in
a way to make one shudder Mr.. W
flashed his lantern first upon this object and
then upon that, and kept up running COM
mentary that showed that there was nothing
about the venerable Abbey that WAS trivial IN
his ewes OF void Of interest. He Is man III
authority, being superintendent ofthe works.
and his daily business keeps him familiar
with every nook and corner of the great pile.
Casting luminous ray, now here, now yon-
der, he would say
.Observe the height of the Abbey,-l03
feet to the base of the roof measured 1t
myself the other day. Notice the base OF
this column, old. very old, hundreds and
hundreds of wears and how well they knew
how to build IN those old days Notice it,
every stone is laid horizontally, that is to
saw lust as Nature laid 1t originally IN the
quarry, not set up edgewise IN our day
some people set them on edge, and then won
der why they split and flake. Architects
cannot teach Nature anything. Let me re-
move this matting-lt is put there TO pre-
serve the pavement now there Is bit oi
pavement that is 700 years old you can see
by these scattering clusters of colored mos
aics how beautiful it was before time and
sacrilegious idlers marred it. Now there, In
the border, was an inscription, once see,
follow the circle-you can trace IT by the or
naments that have been pulled out here is
an A. and there is an q, and yonder another
ALL beautiful old English capitalist there
is no telling what the inscription was
record left. now. Now move along in this
direction. if you please. londer is where
old King Sebert, the Saxon, les-his monu-
ment is the oldest one in the Abbey Sebert
died in GIG and that's as much as l,2JO
wears aCo-think OF 1t -, $50 years. Now
wonder is the last one-Charles Dickens
there on the floor with the brass letters on
the slab-ahd to this day the people come
and put flowers on it. Why. along ut first
they almost had to cart the flowers out, there
were 80 many Could not leaUe them there,
YOU know, because its where everybody
walks and a body wouldn't want them
trampled on, anyway. All this place about
here now is the Poets Corner. There is Gar
rick's monument and Addison's, and Thack-
eray's husband Macaulay lies there. And
here close to Dickens and Garrlck, lie Sheri-
dan and DIR. Johnson-and here is old Parr
Thomas Parr-you can read the inscrp-
ton
Tho Parr OF yeCovnty OF oisallop borne 40 lisi
lie lived IN We rel .nes Of ten Princes viz X. Edw.
4. h Edw. s X. Rich. ; h. H.. !. X. II. ;. h.
Edw. G. Qv. Ma. q. Erz X. la. and X. Charles.
Aged l52 and WAS bvJred here Novelb 10.
1885.
And here-this is Shnkespeare's statue
leaning on his elbow and pointing with his
finger at the lines on the scroll
The cloud capt towers, tn gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples. the great globe itself,
Yea all which it inherit shall dissolve,
And, like the baseless fabric OF vision,
Leave not 4 wreck behind.
That stone there covers Campbell, the
| poet Here are names You know pretty
we'll Milton, and Gray, who wrote the Ele
| gy, and Butler, who wrote lludibras, and
| Edmund Spenser, and Ben JonsOn there
are three tables to him scattered about this
Abbey, and all got % Rare Ben Johnson cut
on them-you were standing on one of them
| lust now he is buried standing up. There
used to be tradition here that explains it,
| The story goes that he did not dare ask to be
| buried IN the Abbey, so he asked King James
| if he would make him Il present OF eighteen
| inches of English ground, aud the King said
| YES and asked him where he would have IT,
| and he said Westminster Abbey. Well, the
| King wouldn't go back on hls word, So there
he Ii, sure euough--tood up on end Years
ago, In Dean Buckland's time before my
day-t were digging grave close to
Jonson, ard they uncovered him and his
head fell OFF. Toward night the clerk Of the
works hid the head to keep it from being
stolen, as the ground was to remain open till
next day. Presently the deans son came
along, and h. found head and hid 1t away
| for Jonsous. And by-and-hy along came Il
stranger and he found head, too, and walk
ed of with IT under his cloak and a month
or so afterward he was heard to boast that no
had Ben Jonson's head. Then there was
deal of correspondence about 1t in the 1ulsS,
and everybody was distressed. But 1lr. Prank
Buckland came out and cOmforted everybody
by telling how he saved the true head, and
so the stranger must have got one that wasnt t
of any consequence. And then up speaks
the clerk of the works, and tells how he saved
the right head. and SO Mr.. BUcilud must
have got a wrong one. Well it was all set
tied satisfactory at last, because the clerk Of
tine works Jroroi his head. And then be-
lieve they got the head from the stranger.
so now we've got three. But II shows you
what regiments Of people you are walking
over, been collected Lere for twelve hun
dred years. in some places no doubt the
bones are fairly matted together.
"And here are some UniOrtunntes. Under
this place lies Anne, Queen of Richard Ill.
and daughter OF the Kingmaker, the great
Earl Of Warwick, murdered she was, poi
soned by her husband And here il slab
which you see has once had the figure Of a
man in armor on it, IN brass or copper, let
| IL. 4 .l 4