VII.
LONDON—NEW-YORK.
London, Monday, May 15, 1851.
I have now been fifteen days in this magnificent Babel, but so much engrossed with the Exhibition that I have seen far less of the town than I otherwise should. Of the City proper (in the center) I know a little; and I have made my way thence out into the open country on the North and on the West respectively, but toward the South lies a wilderness of buildings which I have not yet explored; while Eastward the metropolitan districts stretch further than I have ever been. The south side of Hyde Park and the main line of communication thence with the City proper is the only part of London with which I can claim any real acquaintance. Yet, on the strength of what little I do know, I propose to say something of London as it strikes a stranger; and in so doing I shall generally refer to New-York as a standard of comparison, so as to render my remarks more lucid to a great portion of their readers.
The Buildings here are generally superior to those of our City—more substantial, of better materials, and more tasteful. There are, I think, as miserable rookeries here as anywhere; but they are exceptions; while most of the houses are built solidly, faithfully, and with a thickness of walls which would be considered sheer waste in our City. Among the materials most extensively used is a fine white marble[A] of a peculiarly soft, creamy appearance, which looks admirably until blackened by smoke and time. Regent-street and several of the aristocratic quarters west of it are in good part built of this marble; but one of the finest, freshest specimens of it is St. George's Hospital, Piccadilly, which to my eye is among the most tasteful edifices in London. If (as I apprehend) St. Paul's Church, Somerset House, and the similarly smoke-stained dwellings around Finsbury Oval were built of this same marble, then the murky skies of London have much to answer for.
Throughout the Western and Northern sections of the Metropolis, the dwellings are far less crowded than is usual in the corresponding or up-town portion of New-York, are more diverse in plan, color and finish, and better provided with court-yards, shrubbery, &c. In the matter of Building generally, I think our City would profit by a study of London, especially if our lot-owners, builders, &c., would be satisfied with London rates of interest on their respective investments. I think four per cent. is considered a tolerable and five a satisfactory interest on money securely invested in houses in London.
By the way: the apostles of Sanitary Reform here are anticipating very great benefits from the use of the Hollow Brick just coming into fashion. I am assured by a leading member of the Sanitary Commission that the hollow brick cost much less than the solid ones, and are a perfect protection against the dampness so generally experienced in brick houses, and often so prejudicial to health. That there is a great saving in the cost of their transportation is easily seen; and, as they are usually made much larger than the solid brick, they can be laid up much faster. I think Dr. Southwood Smith assured me that the saving in the first cost of the brickwork of a house is one-third; if that is a mistake, the error is one of misapprehension on my part. The hollow brick is a far less perfect conductor of heat and cold than the solid one; consequently, a house built of the former is much cooler in Summer and warmer in Winter. It is confidently and reasonably hoped here that very signal improvements, in the dwellings especially of the Poor, are to be secured by means of this invention. Prince Albert has caused two Model Cottages of this material to be erected at his cost in Hyde Park near the Great Exhibition in order to attract general attention to the subject.
The Streets of London are generally better paved, cleaner and better lighted than those of New-York. Instead of our round or cobble stone, the material mainly used for paving here is a hard flint rock, split and dressed into uniform pieces about the size of two bricks united by their edges, so as to form a surface of some eight inches square with a thickness of two inches. This of course wears much more evenly and lasts longer than cobble-stone pavements. I do not know that we could easily procure an equally serviceable material, even if we were willing to pay for it. One reason of the greater cleanness of the streets here is the more universal prevalence of sewerage; another is the positive value of street-offal here for fertilizing purposes. And as Gas is supplied here to citizens at 4s. 6d. ($1.10) per thousand feet, while the good people of New-York must bend to the necessity of paying $3.50, or more than thrice as much for the like quantity, certainly of no better quality, it is but reasonable to infer that the Londoners can afford to light their streets better than the New-Yorkers.
But there are other aspects in which our streets have a decided superiority. There are half a dozen streets and places here having the same name, and only distinguished by appending the name of a neighboring street, as "St. James-place, St. James-st.," to distinguish it from several other St. James-places, and so on. This subjects strangers to great loss of time and vexation of spirit. I have not yet delivered half the letters of introduction which were given me at home to friends of the writers in this city, and can't guess when I shall do it. Then the numbering of the streets is absurdly vicious—generally 1, 2, 3, 4, &c., up one side and down the other side, so that 320 will be opposite 140, and 412 opposite 1, and so throughout. Of course, if any street so numbered is extended beyond its original limit, the result is inextricable confusion. But the Londoners seem not to have caught the idea of numbering by lots at all, but to have numbered only the houses that actually existed when the numbering was undertaken; so that, if a street happened to be numbered when only half built up, every house erected afterward serves to render confusion worse confounded. On this account I spent an hour and a half a few evenings since in fruitless endeavors to find William and Mary Howitt, though I knew they lived at No. 28 Upper Avenue Road, which is less than half a mile long. I found Nos. 27, 29, 30, and 31, and finally found 28 also, but in another part of the street, with a No. 5 near it on one side and No. 16 ditto on the other—and this in a street quite recently opened. I think New-York has nothing equal to this in perplexing absurdity.