obstinate, leisurely moves out of the way. No matter in how much haste you are—you may be trying to catch a train or an ocean steamer—you must wait. Not so in London’s most crowded streets. On London Bridge, for instance, slow-going and heavily-laden vehicles must keep to the side near the curb and pavement, while carriages, cabs and light vehicles are allowed the middle of the roadway for quick movement. That part of the roadway directly next to the curb has a smooth surface, and there is also a smooth surface about a foot wide for the outer wheel of heavy wagons—this only on London Bridge and in a few other very busy thoroughfares. It is a capital plan, and gives satisfaction to all concerned.
ADVICE FROM CHARLES DICKENS.
But in such a vast city, with such enormous traffic, nothing can prevent great loss of life and accidents innumerable from crossing the streets. The point mentioned above is only one of the busy parts of one street—the Strand—from another point, down by the Law Courts and Temple Bar, it is said that two hundred more or less mangled bodies are sent to the Charing Cross Hospital every year.
The present Charles Dickens, in his “Dictionary of London,” thinks it worth while to suggest that the only way to go from curb to curb is to make up your mind what course you will take, and then stick to it. London cabbies will thus divine your intentions. To change your mind while crossing is to confuse the cabmen, and cause you (so Dickens suggests) to make your return journey to America in the form of freight.
As all vehicles in London are driven to the left, keep to the left curb. I found this suggestion of Oakey Hall’s valuable: “As you leave a curb, look to the right; as you approach a curb, look to the left.”
LONDON HOTELS.
Until the year 1880 there was only one hotel in London that came up to the expectations of American travelers, which compared in size and appointments with American hotels of the first-class. This was the Langham Hotel in Portland place. When the Langham was built, nearly thirty years ago, and for several subsequent years, as the writer can attest, for he was a guest there in 1871, and has been a frequent visitor there since, the Langham was large enough to accommodate all American tourists in London.
This, however, has been greatly changed. Americans at that time merely passed through London; they took it as a sort of stepping-stone en route for Paris. In the days of the Second Empire, when Louis Napoleon wielded the sceptre, and Eugenie set the fashions for the civilized world, Americans flocked to Paris like so many sheep. Then it was said: “See Paris and die.” With the downfall of the empire and its accompanying glories our compatriots found Paris less attractive, and they discovered what everybody knows—that London is, in many respects, the most interesting city in the world. A presentation to Her Majesty, and hob-nobbing with the Prince of Wales, are the things now most desired, and to be in the very height of fashion, one must hire a London house for “the season,”—May, June and July.
THE LANGHAM HOTEL.
But this is a digression. The ground, the structure and the furnishing of the Langham Hotel, which was formally opened by the Prince of Wales in June, 1865, cost a million and a half dollars, and it was a wonder and a revelation to the English people. Its noble granite front of two hundred and twelve feet, its dining hall, forty-seven by one hundred and twenty feet; its music room, drawing-room, and its public rooms generally, were on such a grand scale that Londoners opened wide their eyes in astonishment and admiration. The Langham, by liberal outlay of money and constant improvement, keeps up with the times, and notwithstanding that many splendid establishments have been erected within the last decade, it retains its place in the very front rank. People who have not seen the interior of the Langham Hotel, London, since 1890, will notice some changes and marked improvements. Heretofore the dining-room was only entered by a comparatively dark and roundabout way, near the drawing-room; now it is approached from “the office” direct, through a wide and handsome “vestibule,” which is flooded with light and richly furnished, making an appropriate entrance to the beautiful dining-room. The drawing-room, which, for its size, its pleasing shape and rich furniture is yet one of the most attractive salons in England, has also been greatly improved.
Colonel Sanderson, its first manager, an American, died many years ago. He was brother to Harry Sanderson, famous in his day in New York as a pianist. But English capitalists and business men are not given to making changes, and so we find that Mr. Walter Gosden, who was in the service of the Langham under Mr. Sanderson’s management, has been for many years and is now the manager of the hotel. You can get a nice room with beautiful outlook, and a very good breakfast here for less than two dollars a day. This estimate includes the charge for attendance. Address, Walter Gosden, Portland place, Regent street, W.
THE GRAND.
During the past twelve years, however, many superb buildings for hotel purposes have been erected in the English metropolis. Among the largest and most popular are the three grouped together, as it were, in one short street, Northumberland avenue, which, only two blocks long, extends in a southerly direction from Trafalgar square to the banks of the Thames. These are the Grand, the Métropole and the Victoria, to name them in the order they were erected. So popular has this cluster of hotels become, and so many well-to-do Americans do they attract, that property in the neighborhood has largely increased in value, and the tradespeople blame the “Yankees” for the increased rents they have to pay, never speaking of the increased patronage which they enjoy from these same “Yankees.”
The features of the Grand Hotel, the longest established of these three, are well-known, but former patrons will scarcely recognize the reception-room, which, with its new, solid-looking furniture and rich, dark decorations, is now one of the most attractive apartments of its kind to be seen, even in these days of the upholsterer and decorator. While artistic and costly, it has an air of utility and comfort which you will not find very often repeated. The drawing-room of the Grand was to be “done up” during last winter, so the secretary informed me, and “it will be just as handsome as the reception-room.” Cable, Granotel, London.
HÔTEL MÉTROPOLE.
To American visitors in London the Métropole is one of the most attractive of the more recently built hotels. Situated as it is, and being replete with all the latest conveniences and features, no hotel in the metropolis approaches nearer to the ideal which was first evolved in the United States of the model modern caravansary. To dwell upon the subject of the general characteristics of the Hôtel Métropole would be superfluous; they and it are too well known to Americans who have visited London, but a short description of the celebrated “grand salon” of the Métropole, as it has lately been refitted and decorated (Sept. 1891), will be read with interest.
The scheme of adornment is most tasteful, and perfectly and harmoniously carried out in all details. Two shades of maroon in contrast with white and gold are the leading features of the ensemble, and the general effect of this combination is extremely felicitous and pleasing. The wall space between the lofty windows and the immense mirrors is covered with stamped Utrecht velvet of a soft, natural tint and richness of design. The pillars are painted in maroon, with gilt capitals, an arrangement of color which is at once novel and agreeable to the eye. The patterns on the flutings of the beams which support the roof are picked out