Читать книгу Rollo in London - Jacob Abbott - Страница 13

Chapter III.

The River.

Mr. George and Rollo fell into the line of people that were pressing forward over the plank which led to the boat that the orange woman had directed them to embark in; and they soon found themselves on board. The boat was small and quite narrow. There was no saloon or enclosed apartment of any kind for the passengers, nor even an awning to shelter them from the sun or rain. There were, however, substantial settees placed around the deck, some forward and others aft. Some of these settees were on the sides of the steamer, by the railing, and there were others placed back to back in the middle. There were not seats enough for all the passengers; and thus many were obliged to stand.

As the boat glided along swiftly over the water, Rollo gazed with wonder and interest at the various objects and scenes which presented themselves to view around him. The rows of dingy-looking warehouses dimly seen through the smoke along the shores of the river; the ranges of barges, lighters, and wherries lying at the margin of the water below; the bridges, stretching through the murky atmosphere across the stream, with throngs of people upon them passing incessantly to and fro; the little steamers, long and slender, and blackened by smoke, shooting swiftly in every direction over the surface of the water; and the spires and domes of the city seen on every hand beyond the nearer buildings,—attracted by turns the attention of our travellers, and excited their wonder.

In a very few minutes, however, after the boat had left its first station, she seemed to be approaching another landing-place, and Rollo was very much amused to observe how the steamer was manœuvred in coming up to the landing and making fast there. The pilot who had the command of her stood upon the wheel house on one side, and gave his orders by means of little gestures which he made with his fingers and hand. The helmsman, who stood at the wheel in the stern, watched these gestures, and regulated his steering by such of them as were meant for him. There were other gestures, however, which were meant for the engineer, who had charge of the engine. This engineer, however, could not see the gestures of the pilot, for he was down among the machinery, beneath the deck; and so there was a boy stationed on the deck, near an opening which led down to where the engineer was standing; and this boy interpreted the gestures as the pilot made them, calling out to the engineer the import of them with a very curious drawling intonation, which amused Rollo very much. Thus, when the steamer approached the land, the boy, watching the fingers of the pilot, called out, with intervals of a few seconds between each order, in a loud voice to the engineer below, as follows:——

“Ease—er-r-r!”

Then, after two or three seconds,——

“Stop—er-r-r!”

Then again,——

“Back—er-r-r!”

The engineer obeyed all these orders in succession as they were thus announced to him; and the steamer was brought up very safely to the landing, although the person who controlled her motions could not see at all where he was going.

When the steamer was thus, at length, moored to the landing, a number of the passengers stepped off, and a great many others got on; and, immediately afterwards, the cables were cast off, and the boy called out,——

“Start—er-r-r!”

The steamer then began to glide away from the landing again, and was soon swiftly shooting over the water towards one of the arches of the next bridge up the stream.

“Now,” said Rollo, “how are they going to get this tall smokepipe through that bridge?”

“You will see,” said Mr. George.

Rollo looked up to the top of the smokepipe, which seemed to be considerably higher than the crown of the arch that the steamer was approaching. How it could possibly pass was a mystery. The mystery was, however, soon solved; for, at the instant that the bows of the steamer entered under the arch, two men, taking hold of levers below, turned the whole smokepipe back, by means of a hinge joint that had been made in it, not far from the deck. The hinge was in the back side of the smokepipe, and of course in bending the pipe back there was an opening made in front; and through this opening the smoke, while the steamer was passing through the bridge, came out in dense volumes. As soon, however, as the arch was cleared, the pipe was brought back into its place again by the force of great weights placed at the ends of the levers as a counterpoise. Thus the opening below was closed, and the smoke came out of the top of the pipe as before.

SHOOTING THE BRIDGE.

As soon as the boat had passed the bridge, Rollo, looking forward, saw another landing at a short distance in advance of them.

“Here comes another landing,” said Rollo. “Is this the Westminster landing, do you think?”

“No,” said Mr. George.

“How do you know?” asked Rollo.

“We have not come far enough yet for the Westminster landing,” said Mr. George.

“How shall you know when we get there?” asked Rollo.

“I shall inquire,” said Mr. George. “Besides, the Westminster landing must be at Westminster Bridge, and Westminster Bridge is above Hungerford Bridge; and I shall know Hungerford Bridge when I see it, for it is an iron suspension bridge, without arches. It is straight and slender, being supported from above by monstrous chains; and it is very narrow, being only intended for foot passengers.”

“Well,” said Rollo, “I will look out for it.”

“I meant to have asked you,” said Mr. George, “while we were on London Bridge, whether it would be best for us to take lodgings in the city or at the West End. Which do you think?”

“I don’t know,” said Rollo. “Which do you think would be best?”

“It is more genteel to be at the West End,” said Mr. George.

“I don’t care any thing about that,” said Rollo.

“Nor do I much,” said Mr. George.

“I want to go,” said Rollo, “where we can have the best time.”

“Yes,” said Mr. George.

“And see the most to amuse us,” said Rollo.

“I think,” said Mr. George, “on the whole, that the West End will be the best for us. There are a few great things in the city to be seen; but the every-day walks, and little excursions, and street sights are altogether more interesting at the West End. So we had better take our lodgings there, and go to the city when we wish to by the omnibuses that go down the Strand.”

“Or by these boats on the river,” said Rollo.

“Yes,” said Mr. George, “or by these boats.”

Not long after this, the steamboat came to Hungerford Bridge. Rollo knew the bridge at once, as soon as it came into view, it was of so light and slender a construction. Instead of being supported, like the other bridges, upon arches built up from below, it was suspended from immense chains that were stretched across the river above. The ends of these chains passed over the tops of lofty piers, which were built for the purpose of supporting them, one on each side, near the shore. The steamer glided swiftly under this bridge, and immediately afterwards the Westminster Bridge came into view.

“Now,” said Rollo, “we are coming to our landing.”

When the steamer at length made the landing, Rollo and Mr. George got out and went up to the shore. They came out in a street called Bridge Street, which led them up to another street called Whitehall.

“Whitehall,” said Mr. George, reading the name on the corner. “This must be the street where King Charles I. was beheaded. Let me stop and see.”

So Mr. George stopped on the sidewalk, and, taking a little London guide book out of his pocket, he looked at the index to find Whitehall. Then he turned to the part of the book referred to, and there he found a long statement in respect to King Charles’s execution, which ended by saying, “There cannot be a doubt, therefore, that he was executed in front of the building which stands opposite the Horse Guards.”

“I’ll inquire where the Horse Guards is,” said Mr. George.

“Where the horse guards are,” said Rollo, correcting what he supposed must be an error in his uncle’s grammar.

“No,” rejoined Mr. George, “The Horse Guards is the name of a building.”

“Then this must be it,” said Rollo, pointing to a building not far before them; “for here are two horse guards standing sentry at the doors of it.”

Mr. George looked and saw a very splendid edifice, having a fine architectural front that extended for a considerable distance along the street, though a little way back from it. There was a great gateway in the centre; and near the two ends of the building there were two porches on the street, with a splendidly-dressed horseman, completely armed, and mounted on an elegant black charger, in each of them. The horse of each of these sentries was caparisoned with the most magnificent military trappings; and, as the horseman sat silent and motionless in the saddle, with his sword by his side, his pistols at the holster, and his bright steel helmet, surmounted with a white plume, on his head, Rollo thought that he was the finest-looking soldier he had ever seen.

“I should like to see a whole troop of such soldiers as that,” said he.

“That building must be the Horse Guards,” said Mr. George; “but I will be sure. I will ask this policeman.”