The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1889-09-21

fountains are feature of the grounds
but were seldom PLAYING, because all the
water required for them had to be hauled
it requiring three weeks hard labor, to
secure sufficient water for few hours
display of their beauty. From S. Cloud
we drove on over wide and well kept
roads through the forest of Vile d. Array,
entering Versailles by it's wide avenue of
Picardie. On the road, sun burnt French
girls mounted on high stills and bedecked
with the bright beads and gaudy colors
of Spanish gypsies importuned you for a
few sous. they capered past you, whirled
round on one silt, waltzed, and galloped,
and with big drops of perspiratlon rolling
down their checks aud necks begged
your aims. With the loud crack of
our Drivers whip whose scarlet Jacket
well matched the stilted gypsy gay at
tire, and the jingle of the bells which the
horses wore, we soon ratified up the wide
Boulevard De la Refine and were set down
nearly in front of the great Trianon Pal
ace of Versailles. The history of this
building is the history of the place,
which without trade or an in
dustry, city solely of pleasure, was
long accustomed to find it's sustenance in
the lavish expenditures OF a gay and lux
urious court. But what was the palace
of Louis the sFourteenth, it was reserved
for Louis Philippe to transform into a
| grand museum. rich in it's collections of
trophies of French victories. You ap
| proach the palace through wide plaza
or Place d Armes, and Court of Honor, III
which stands large equestrian statue of
| Louis the Fourteenth, his horses tail
| decorated with massive ribbon bow, on
| which yJiniat of the figure, our guide made
| several attempts at wit, successful and
otherwise. The salon of mirrors and the
picture galleries are the interior fea-
| lures of the grand Trianon, David's pic
lures illustrating the career Of Napoleon,
and Horace Vernet's Algerian battle
pieces being the principal attractions,
while to an American possibly the most
attractive battle picture is that of York
town in the foreground of which stand
side by side the immortal Washington
and the gallant Lafayette, The grand
fountains OF Versailles are of world wide
reputation, and are worthy of their fame.
They are on the grandest scale, it not
being my good fortune to see them play
FL, ,>f% 81,
ace are bright in color, but too regular in |
form, too geometrc, and stiff as French |
landscape gardening of its time and OF |
today generally is. 1t is too artificial. |
prefer the more natural and irregular |
style of landscape gardening as practiced |
III England, because the eye delights to |
rest on any portion of the landscape, |
where greater irregularity prevails and |
which appears to exhibit the original |
beauties of nature. | appreciate the |
Frenchman's skill! as shown in the bright |
coIors of his flower beds and parterres,
but not in the generally rigid and formal |
lines he lays out. The American and |
Eugishman both excel him in the more |
natural effects of the art of landscape |
gardening. He excels us in producing
tho naturalness of the flower in the JAG. |
guard loom, on silk or satin, but when it |
comes to weaving the lines of landscape
on the green sod of mother earth, we ex-
eel him in more artistically natural re-
suits.
Our drive back to Paris past Sevres
with little peep at its celebrated China |
factories and view of the fertilization
walls that encircle the city, on past the
Triumphal Arch of Napoleon, through |
that gay boulevard the Champs Elysees |
to that grand Plaza the Place de la Con-
corde terminated delightful day drive.
| left the bright Capital the next day in
tending to return to London by the |
Calais and Dover route, but finding that |
| could break my journey at New Haven
and run over to Brighton the celebrated |
watering place resort of Londoners, |
left Paris from San Lanzear Station by |
the New Haven and Dieppe Route. AS
usual the English Channel was on a ram |
page, but had held my own once sue |
cessfully, and although had no inspir- |
ing example in pleasant old lady on my |
return, still landed at New Haven none |
the worse for the shaking up l had re-
ceived, and which 1 was then blissfully |
unconscious | was soon to repeat four |
fold. Brighton is we'll named. 1t is a |
bright town or rather beautifully built |
city by the sea, with grand esplanade
and its gay pier. 1t is to London what |
Newport is to New York, while Ramsgate |
and Margate are the Atlantic cities or
popular places of summer resort. Brigh |
ton was wet and chilly the day | saw it,
and l recognized but few of the
beautiful Wretches'' whom William |
Black the novelist writes about so de- |
lightfully. Back again in that great and |
sombre metropolis of the word-Loudon. |
i repeated my former experiment in |
the matter of Hotels, and instead of sac
rificing my dollars to Yankee Vanity as
too many Americans do, sought and
found on Bridgewater Square, clean,
neat, quiet and respectable little hotel, |
where for reasonable sum of the filthy
lucre, proper attention is paid to the
outer as we'll as the inner man. | enjoyed
my short stay there, making my quiet
little rookery on the third floor, the
starting point for delightful excursions
| through that interesting old center of
movern civilization. | thus thank Mr..
| Tranter publicly for the kindness and
courtesy shown me, and commend him
| gratefully to such of my country men, as
when abroad, do not expect to receive
the value of pound sterling for silver
| (Bob) shilling. On Thursday the Goth
ultimo rather regretfully took a train on
the London and Great Western Railwa,
| from Euston station bound tor Ould Ire
land. | could not give her the go bye,
and besides | had had peep at her grim
rocks and Emerald Verdure, which like
Oliver Twists mnsh made me long for
more Besides | had mission in Ire
land. A self conferred errand of friend
ship not exactly of the missionary type,
but certainly pleasurable one. to take in
the wonders of the North coast with its
Giants Causeway and Ocean Caverns and
view at the same time the white glcam-
ing Irish homestead in which my friend
| and fallow townsman William Falls