Authors, English -- 19th century -- Biography; De Quincey, Thomas, 1785-1859
The first view of St. Paul's, it may be supposed, overwhelmed us with
awe; and I did not at that time imagine that the sense of magnitude
could be more deeply impressed. One thing interrupted our pleasure.
The superb objects of curiosity within the cathedral were shown for
separate fees. There were seven, I think; and any one could be seen
independently of the rest for a few pence. The whole amount was a
trifle; fourteen pence, I think; but we were followed by a sort of
persecution--"Would we not see the bell?" "Would we not see the model?"
"Surely we would not go away without visiting the whispering
gallery?"--solicitations which troubled the silence and sanctity of
the place, and must tease others as it then teased us, who wished to
contemplate in quiet this great monument of the national grandeur,
which was at that very time [5] beginning to take a station also in the
land, as a depository for the dust of her heroes. What struck us most in
the whole _interior_ of the pile was the view taken from the spot
immediately under the dome, being, in fact, the very same which, five
years afterwards, received the remains of Lord Nelson. In one of the
aisles going off from this centre, we saw the flags of France, Spain, and
Holland, the whole trophies of the war, swinging pompously, and expanding
their massy draperies, slowly and heavily, in the upper gloom, as they
were swept at intervals by currents of air. At this moment we were
provoked by the showman at our elbow renewing his vile iteration of
"Twopence, gentlemen; no more than twopence for each;" and so on, until
we left the place. The same complaint has been often made as to
Westminster Abbey. Where the wrong lies, or where it commences, I know
not. Certainly I nor any man can have a right to expect that the poor men
who attended us should give up their time for nothing, or even to be
angry with them for a sort of persecution, on the degree of which
possibly might depend the comfort of their own families. Thoughts of
famishing children at home leave little room for nice regards of
delicacy abroad. The individuals, therefore, might or might not be
blamable. But in any case, the system is palpably wrong. The nation
is entitled to a free enjoyment of its own public monuments; not free
only in the sense of being gratuitous, but free also from the
molestation of _showmen_, with their imperfect knowledge and their
vulgar sentiment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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