Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1893-07-01

then abbey church resulted. The throngs
were sometimes 90 enormous that the city
could not shelisY them, and thsy were
obliged to encamp at night outside the
gates. A shrewd old monk, named John
Turnius, taking proper advantage Of the
situation, in 1859, under the Abbscy and
with the sanction and assistance of the
famous abbot, Thomas Seabroks, built the
New Inn, which at the time doubtless had
no superior ss 9 public hostelry In Eu-
rope. Think of taking your ease In your
Inn, as you can do in the New Inn of
Gloucester to-day, in o tavern which has
survived the changes of four hundred and
forty-three years and never bsen closed O
dayl
The quaint old place Is SO cunnIngly
hidden behind the grim walls of North
gate street that the casual straggler, not
having 1t In actual quest, would be fortu-
nate indeed If hi. glance penetrated the
deep, dark archway separating 1t from the
street and fell upon the charming old
world scsne within. 1 can never forget
my own experience, when, wholly igno-
rant of the spot, and of all of dear old
Gloucester, for that matter, 1 had come
after a wearisome tramp down from the
Malvern Hills, and without object or pur-
pose was leaning against the corner of this
same dark archway for a bit of rest.
Turning in q vsgrant way to depart, a
coaching party dashed gsily past me
through the srchway. Ny eyes followea
the cRvaleade, and then my legs followed
my gladdening eyes. What an exquisite
pleasure was In that sense of original dis
covery of place 80 picturesque and oldl
How hositsntly 1 tptoed about that fine
and ancient courtyard, fesstipg on this
and that like a covetous intruder; and
when found that these were nybody's
pictures for the reckoning of even three
pennyworth of entertainment, with what
delight did luxuriste at the bow-windov
of the fine old coffee-room, ordering this
and that which l did not want, and tip
ping the waiter SO immoderately that he
cent another, and that one another, but
taxing them all with questions 30 that they
gasped between answers, and finally
wound up by ssttling sn advance score
which removed sll doubts of responsible
ty, IL not of sanity, while ordering my
luggage to Its qusintest old room with the
loquacity of n bridegroom aud the brave
ry of a lord!
Around the entire three stories of the
inner court, which Is very spacious, run
galleries upon which all the dormitories
open, precisely AS with the Spanish patio
or court while the half story Of the
peaked roof Ia broken into dormers, hood
ed with pretty tiling, and their facss eet,
like the border of sn old woman's cap,
with simple but wondroua oruamentation.
The most picturesque of old stairs and
landings lead from one story to the 9th
er. Huge iron ornamentstions, many csEt
with sacred emblsma in view of Its origi-
nal pilgrim character are found promiscu-
ously attached to the doors, windows and
ceilings, angles and bows. Diamond
shaped panes in lesdeu frames are com
mon. Easement and little swinging win
dows are everywhere throughout the
structure. Niches for efigies and carved
croases have not yet bsen hidden by time
and change.
Opposite tho street srchway Is another
lesser but picturesque archTay, with the
entire facade of the rear side of the
quadrangle above showing as quaint and
dreamful a scene Of restfClness and antiq-
ulty "a can be found In Europe.
Through this is reached the stable-ysTd,
now restricted 70 accommodation for six-
ty horses. In olden tunes 1t could care
for hundreds of animals, as folk of quail
ity In the time of the King Edward pill
grimsges invariably came on horseback.
Everything about the New Inn is qussr
and quaint and old. Never elsewhere
was seen such a radiant tumble of odd
corners, little arches, protruding upper
stories, psep-holes of windows, gables,
Offices, "oetries." tsp-rooms, and wealth
of vines and foliage and grave unctuous
walters and chubby checked kitchen
maids, horsemsids and bar-maids to
heightsn the mysteries, cheer and charm
of this typical old English inn
Dead old Bowes. in northern Yorkshire,
alongside what In former times was called
the Great North road, possesses enc Of
the finest specimens of the ample road
side inns of the olden coaching days to
be found in all England. The village
and this inn have always had for me the
weirdest fascination of any provincial
spot in Britain, though both hamlet and
Inn are now dreary and desolste beyond
description. The old inn here, now called
the Unicorn, was first known as the George.
Eight coashes, bound either to London or
Glasgow, daily changed horses In its great
yard in the good old coaching days. 1t Ia
| to this inn that Charles Dickens, with a
great and merciful motive In fiction, re
| paired with HIS friend and companion,
| Hablot Browne, few weeks before Christ
| mas of 1897, where the two remained
/ while Dickens secured material for Mich
/ olas Nickleby."
| He had letters to a yeoman of the place
/ coon to shine ea one of the immortAls oi
fiction as honest "John Browdie." He
| represented himself as agent of a pooi
widow desirous of placing her only boy IL
a quiet country school. Iu this way b,
secured admission to a number in the vi
cinity, though shut out of some by tbs
wary m,sters The "school" seeming
most suitable as a prototype of them all
from the personel of its savage ownel
| and his family, with Wild and dssolst.
physical surroundings In keeping with tn,
hopslessness of the school-life of the plsc'
| itself, was the Dotheboys Hall, still stand
ing in Bowes-hsrdly a stones throw from
the ancient Unicorn ion, the house beinI
| now occupied by "old man Bonsfeld,
| husband of the veritsble Squeer's dsugh
ter, Fanny Squeers, known in life as Mar!
Ann Shaw-where "Nicholas Nickleby,
"Smike," and scores of other helples
young lives, are depicted as having under
gone an slmost inoonceivsble life of servi
tude, starvation and cruelty.
| Investigations showed that the horribl
| picturs drawn was not an exagSeration
and bore out Dickens own statement Il
| the original preface that "Gr. SGussrs an
his school arc faint and feeble pictures @
an existing reality, purposely subdusd an
kept down lest they should be deemed i'm
possible" This, Dickens second, and i
| some respects his greatest, novel was b.
gun In April. 1893, and finished in 0ctC
: ber, 1889 At ths appearance of the hrt
{ part he ran away from London, as he a
ways did, to remain in hiding until dii
tinct measure of public favor or dlsfavc
| was shown. In the case of 'Nichols
t Nickleby" his forgIvsble ekulking was {
8 | short duration. The first days sale of II
{ fret part exceeded fifty thousand copis
Not six months had passed before the to
ture and cruelty to helpless scholars
= these remote prison-psns were absted, su
4 before the last chapter Of Nicholas Nj
kleby" had bsen read, pablo feelinI
, which in many portions OF the countl
/ barely escaped expression in riot. had a,
q initiated every child hell of the Dothebo,
t Hall variety in England.
If Won came from London TO Boyss oy