THE WONDERS OF 1851.

A certain Government office having a more than usual need of some new ideas, and wishing to obtain them from the collective mind of the country, consulted Mr. Trappem, the official solicitor—a gentleman of great experience—on the subject. “A new idea,” said he, “is not the only thing you will want; these new ideas, to be worth anything, must be reduced to practical demonstration, by models, plans, or experiments. This will cost much time, labour, and money, and be attended through its progress with many disappointments. The rule, therefore, is to throw it open to the public. Let the inventive spirits of the whole public be set to work; let them make the calculations, designs, models, plans; let them try all the experiments at their own expense; let them all be encouraged to proceed by those suggestions which are sure to excite the greatest hopes and the utmost emulation, without committing the Honourable Board to anything. When at length two or three succeed, then the Honourable Board steps in, and taking a bit from one, and a bit from another, but the whole, or chief part, from no one in a direct way, rejects them all individually and collectively, and escapes all claims and contingencies. A few compliments, enough to keep alive hope, and at the same time keep the best men quiet, should finally be held out, and the competitors may then be safely left to long delays and the course of events. That’s the way.”

Too true, Mr. Trappem—that is the way; and many a Government office, or other imposing array of Committee-men, and Honourable Boards, have practised this same expedient upon the inventive genius and collective knowledge and talent of the public. The last instances which deserve to be recorded, not merely because they are the most recent, but rather on account of their magnitude and completeness, are the invitations to competitors for models and plans, issued by the Metropolitan Commissioners of Sewers,—and by the Commissioners of the Exhibition of Industry of all Nations.

In order to supersede prevaricating denials and evasions of what we have to say concerning the Metropolitan Commissioners of Sewers, it may be as well to premise that they have for some time adopted the cunning “fence” of a “Committee of Commissioners,” behind which the Commissioners make a dodge on all difficult, alarming, and responsible occasions. When all is safe, and clear, and sunshiny, it is the Commissioners who have done the thing; directly matters look awkward, and a bad business, the diplomatic bo-peeps leap away from the bursting clouds—and the Committee of Commissioners have done it all, for which the main body of the Right Honourable Board is by no means responsible. A similar manœuvre has been adopted by the Commissioners of the Exhibition of Industry, who have got two Committees to screen them.

Now, in the name of all worthily striving spirits,—of all those who have devoted their talents, time, and money to the production of models, designs, or plans,—of all those who have laboured hard by day or by night, perhaps amidst other arduous and necessary avocations,—in the name of all those, who, possessing real knowledge and skill, have naturally and inevitably been led to indulge in high hopes, if not of entire success, at least of fair play and of some advantage to themselves in reward, remuneration for reasonable and necessary expenses incurred, or, at any rate, in receiving honourable mention,—and, finally, in the name of common justice, we do most loudly and earnestly protest against all these and similar appeals to the collective intellect of the public, unless conducted upon some liberal and definite method of compensation for all eminently meritorious labours.

That one great prize—either as a substantial tribute, or in the exclusive adoption of an entire plan—should be awarded to one man, and that the half-dozen next to him in merit, perhaps equal or superior, should derive no benefit at all, is manifestly a most clumsy and unjust arrangement. But when we find great appeals to the public, nobly answered, and yet no one work selected as the work desired,—no one rewarded—but every one used and got rid of—then, indeed, we see an abuse of that kind which ought to be most fully exposed, so that it may serve as a warning in future “to all whom it may concern.”

It is curious to observe how much more quickly some nations, as well as individuals, take a hint than others. Among the models and plans sent in answer to the public invitation of the Commissioners of the Exhibition of Industry, there are a great many, and of a most excellent kind, from our sprightly and sanguine friends, the French—while, notwithstanding the chief originator and patron is from the Faderland, not one of those who are more especially distinguished as entitled to the highest honours, is from Germany! Out of the eighteen names thus selected, no less than twelve are Frenchmen; four are English; one Austrian; and a solitary Dutchman. In all Prussia, there was not found one man to venture. It would seem as though they were aware of these tricks. But how is it that so few of our own countrymen are thus distinguished and complimented? Is it because they are deficient in the requisite talent, or do they not take sufficient interest in the matter? Surely neither of these reasons will be satisfactory to account for the fact of our native architects and designers having been so palpably beaten at this first trial of skill. We shall probably be told that the best men of France have entered the lists in this competition; whereas our best men have stood aloof. Why is this? May it not be that “old birds are not caught with chaff?” Our best men are generally well employed, and it is not worth their while to waste their time 389in competitions which almost invariably end in so unsatisfactory a manner. The same thing occurred, and may be answered in the same way, with regard to the hundred and sixty or seventy Plans sent in for the Drainage of London. Our most eminent civil engineers stood aloof. A few very able men, it is true, entered into the contest with enthusiasm, at great expense of time, labour, and money, (one of them, Mr. J. B. M‘Clean, spent nearly 500l. in surveys, &c.) but very few of them will ever do this again. Out of the two hundred and forty-five competitors who have sent designs and plans, in reply to the equally vague and formal invitation of the Commissioners of the Exhibition of 1851, not a single name of the hundred and sixty or seventy engineers, surveyors, architects, builders, &c., who sent in designs for the Drainage of London, is to be found either in List A, or List B, of those whom the Commissioners of the Exhibition have mentioned as entitled to honorary distinction. They were, no doubt, very thoroughly sickened by the previous affair.

We have said that, at the very least, those who have sent in excellent designs should receive honourable mention. This is liberally bestowed by the Commissioners of the Exhibition on eighteen individuals; but that is not sufficient. Neither is the longer list of names, thus honoured, perfectly just, inasmuch as it excludes many whose plans display very great merit. As for the Commissioners of Sewers, the report they issued concerning the plans sent to them, was meagre and mean to the last degree. Its timidity at a just and decent compliment, absolutely amounted to the ludicrous. If they thanked anybody at all, the thanks seemed warily pushed towards the parties by the Solicitor of the Commission at the end of a long pole. They had not even a word of commendation to offer to two or three men who had sent in designs of the most comprehensive and original character,—designs which were, at least, as practicable as any of the “tunnel schemes,” or others which they ventured, in their caustic way, to applaud. We would more especially mention the plans of Mr. Richard Dover, Mr. John Martin, Mr. John Sutton (The Margin Sewer), Mr. Jasper Rogers, Mr. William H. Smith (Second Series), and the one signed “Nunc aut Nunquam,” which latter, for grandeur of conception, equals the very greatest works of ancient and modern times. Placed beside such unmannerly treatment as this, and comparing the two reports, that of the Commissioners of the Exhibition reads like the production of gentlemen and scholars, beside the penurious reservations and dryness of the Commissioners of Sewers.

With regard, however, to the great superiority of foreign artists over our own in the present matter of competition, and our utter defeat in the first trial of the respective strength of Nations, some very excellent remarks have been put forth by the “Athenæum.” “Let us see,” says the writer, “if the men who did come up to this architectural battle have been fairly dealt with. It is essential to the integrity of a combat that it should be fought with the weapon prescribed. If one of two combatants bring a sword double the length of his adversary’s, or a rifle to his rival’s pistol, we should scarcely hold that the defeat of the latter is proof that he is inferior in fence or in aim.” This is closely and fairly put. The answer must be, that our artists have not been fairly beaten. The advertisement of the Committee requested “information and suggestions” on the general form of the building in plan, &c., and they laid down rules and regulations to which “they earnestly requested the contributors to conform,” declaring that they would not recognise any plans which were “sent in a form inconsistent with these rules.” They were clearly defined. For instance—they directed that the communications must consist of a single sheet of paper of given dimensions; that the drawing should be a simple ground-plan, also of limited dimensions; and that it should only contain “such elevations and sections of the building, on the same sheet, as might be necessary to elucidate the system proposed.” Surely all this is clear enough.

Let us now see how some of the most successful of the competitors have attended to these conditions on which they were to enter the arena.

What extensive pleasure-grounds are those?—and adorned with such architectural displays? They are the work of Monsieur Cailloux. But, a little further on, we behold pleasure-grounds and architectural structures yet more ornate and refined. They are from the hand of Monsieur Charpentier. Further on, another, by Monsieur Cleemputte; and another by Monsieur Gaulle—a complicated work of thoughtful elaboration. Yet even these are destined to be surpassed by the luxurious fancies of other artists.

So far from denying or doubting that many of these designs are beautiful, we close our eyes, and see in imagination the exquisite magnificence of the structures, into which no coarse and profane hands should dare to wheel or carry rude raw materials of any kind; there, everything must be finished to the highest degree of polished art and refined taste. Also, no lumbering pieces of machinery or mechanism must risk doing injury to the walls, and pillars, and profusion of glass—no uncouth agricultural implements, or other tools of horny-handed Industry. Hither, let no enthusiasts in smoke-jacks, patent capstans, door-hinges, dock-gates, double-barred gridirons, humane chimney-sweeping apparatuses, peat-charcoal, bachelor’s broilers, fire-annihilators, patent filters, portable kitchens, or electric telegraphs, dare to send their uncouth machinery and compounds; but only such things as are delicate of texture, rainbow-coloured, 390and exquisite to the smell, while the visitors (none of whom will be admitted except in full dress, and great numbers of whom will always appear in court dresses) perambulate about, gazing now on this side, and now on that, to the sound of the seraphine and Moorish flutes.

Let us awake from this charming vision; but it was natural to fall into it on such suggestions. Again we are in danger. For who can contemplate the elegant originality of Monsieur Jacquet (No. 25) without emotion, or a “wish to be there?” His ground-plan resembles a section of some enormous fan-light of painted glass, or like part of a gigantic Oriental fan, made of the plumes of some fabulous peacock. Nor must we pass over the suggestion of our countrymen, Messrs. Felix and White (No. 72), because they are not equally imaginative, for they certainly manifest very much and excellent thought in their architectural display; though, like our foreign friends, no thought at all of the cost of such a work. The same may be said of the beautiful pleasure-grounds designed by Mr. Reilly (No. 102), with circular, oval, and serpentine garden-plots, flower-beds, and shrubberies, and labyrinthine walks or covered ways of glass.

But there are more—yet more of these delightful and deliberate violations of the terms on which competitors were to enter the lists—one vieing with another, not in producing the most excellently useful and economical structure for the purpose required, but the most perfect exhibition of the artist’s especial taste, “regardless of expense.” Yes, there are more of these deserving notice. One competitor—nay, three of them—propose that the entire building should be made of iron, domes and towers inclusive; another, that it shall be all made of glass, such as we might find in an Arabian Nights’ Tale. Monsieur Soyer, the mighty cook (No. 165), begins the synopsis of his design by proposing to take up, and remove the great marble arch from Buckingham Palace, as though it were a “trifle,” and serve it up for a grand entrance opposite the Prince of Wales’s Gate. Here, also, is a structure which arrests the attention even amidst the surrounding wonders, and appears to be several conservatories and libraries on a colossal scale of glass frame-work, delightfully intermingled with domes and turrets, and observatories, with here and there minarets and pagodas, of the delicious character presented by those fragile structures which make such a tempting figure on the festive board, standing erect among the dessert-plates. Yet, once more, behold the prodigal laying out of palace-gardens, not to speak of the ante-industrial palace itself (which reminds one of Thomson’s “Castle of Indolence”), gardens with alcoves and aviaries, and fountains, glass temples, green labyrinths, flower-beds and flower-stands, vases and jets-d’eaux, sculpture, shrubberies, shaded lovers’ walks, public promenades, with lords and ladies and princes and princesses, of all nations, sauntering about, and the clouds and sky of an Italian sunset lighting up and colouring the whole. For this, and similar chateaux, we are quite at a loss to conjecture the principle on which they present themselves on this occasion; but we have no doubt that they all belong to that munificent patron of art, and great landed proprietor, the Marquis of Carrabas.

Now, that our own architects are able to compete successfully with the best of our foreign friends in works of imaginative design, we do not affirm; neither, for the reasons previously adduced by the “Athenæum,” do we consider ourselves justified in denying it, from the result of the present struggle. But for our own artists and others, who have confined themselves to the terms and preliminaries announced by the Commissioners, have they succeeded?—that is the question. Not satisfactorily, we think. Our architects are, for the most part, impracticable, from the expense required, and the wilful forgetfulness that the building is to be of a temporary character; while our surveyors and builders have been thinking too much of railway-stations, not of that sober, simple, and sufficient kind which the occasion requires, but (according to the error in these stations) of that large, ornate, and redundant kind which is meant to be admired as much as used, and also to last for ages. This latter mistake is very characteristic of our countrymen. They do not feel, nor comprehend, the act of knocking up a temporary structure; they are always for something that will endure.

In certain matters requiring great skill and many forethoughts, most of these plans are not very successful. For instance, the prevention of terrible confusion and danger in the constant arrivals and departures of visitors—carriages, vehicles of all sorts, horsemen, and shoals of pedestrians. This relates to the approaches and entrances outside; and the position and approaches of the exit-doors inside; also, the best means of directing and managing the currents of visitors within. It seems pretty clear that everybody must not be allowed to follow his “own sweet will” in all respects, or there will be many a deadlock, and perhaps a deadly struggle, with all the usual disastrous consequences. Many of the plans seek to direct the current of visitors (indicated by shoals of little arrows with their heads pointing the same way) not so much for the convenience and freedom of the public, as in accordance with the architectural points to be displayed. Others appear to intend that the direction of the current shall be forced by the pressure from the column constantly advancing behind. This might be dangerous. The current might surely be managed so as to combine direction on a large scale with a considerable amount of individual freedom; and, in any case, the amount of pressure 391from the masses behind should be regulated by sectional barriers.

How to find your way out? This may be a question well worth consideration. Of course there will be a sufficient number of exit-doors; but if you have to walk and struggle through several miles of bazaar-counters or winding ways, amidst dense crowds, before you can discover a means of egress, your amount of pleasure is not likely to induce a second visit. Mr. Brandon for instance (No. 207), has beautiful domed temples and libraries (so they appear) or other “glass cases,” while the ground-plan presents a series of circuitous batches of stalls, or bazaar-counters, not unlike large circles of sheep-pens, except that there is a free passage between them. Hence, the currents, or rather, the “rapids,” of visitors must inevitably be going and coming, and jostling, and conflicting; and others arriving at a dead stand, and having no chance of progression, or retreat, without a “trial of strength,”—the whole producing of necessity an inextricable maze and confusion, with an impossibility for a long time of finding a way out, even when able to move.

This question of the current of visitors, and of movement in general, is ingeniously settled by one gentleman, who proposes to have a railway along the grand central line, for the conveyance up and down of all sorts of goods and articles, heavy or light. We presume that the progress of the carriages and trucks would be very slow, so that the visitors, when fatigued, might, at their pleasure, step up to a seat, and be quietly conveyed along to any part of the line. This notion has, of course, been laughed at, and we confess to having amused ourselves considerably with the “train” of thought induced by it; but we are not sure, in the present state of mechanical science, whether something very commodious might not result from a modification of the idea. The fares, if any (and we think there should be a trifle paid to check reckless crowding), should not exceed a penny. The inventor will thus perceive that, if we have laughed, we have also sympathised, and are quite ready to get up and have a ride. One gentleman (Mr. C. H. Smith) proposes to erect three octagonal vestibules, communicating with all principal compartments; the roof to be upheld by suspension chains. Cast-iron frames are to hold rough glass, laid in plates lapping over each other, like tiles. This is certainly a sensible provision against a hail-storm, which has occurred to no one else, amidst their prodigalities in glass.

But, amidst all these wonders of 1851, are there no plain, simple, practical plans sent in? There are a good many. Some of these are certainly not very attractive, presenting, as they do, the appearance of a superior kind of barracks, hospitals, alms-houses, nursery-grounds; and one of these plans is laid out entirely like a series of cucumber-frames, with shifting lights at top. There are, however, several of these sober designs which possess great practical merit, and have preserved a due consideration of the terms on which the competition was proposed. Of these, the Commissioners and Committees have availed themselves in all respects suited to their own views and wishes; and out of all these, combined with their own especial fancies, they seem likely to produce an interminable range of cast-iron cow-sheds, having (as a specimen of the present high state of constructive genius) an enormous slop-basin, of iron frame-work, inverted in the centre, as an attraction for the admiring eyes of all the nations.

But other problems have to be solved. The classification and arrangement of the raw materials, the manufactured articles, the machinery, and the works of plastic art, is a question of very great importance. It not only involves the things themselves, but their respective countries. Should the productions of each country be kept separate? This appears the natural arrangement, or how should any one make a study of the powers of any special country. Prince Albert, it seems, wishes otherwise. He thinks that a fusion of the productions of all nations will be more in accordance with the broad general principle of the Exhibition—more tending to amalgamate and fraternise one country with another. This feeling is excellent; but we fear it would cause an utter confusion, and amidst the heterogeneous masses, nobody would be able to make a study of the productions of any particular nation. An eminent civil engineer suggests that the productions of the respective countries should be ranged together from side to side of the entire width of the edifice—thus you can at once see the works of industry of England, France, Germany, America, Switzerland, &c., &c., by walking up and down from one side to the other; and you can obtain a collective view of the works of all these countries by walking longitudinally, or from end to end of the building. To some such classification and arrangement as this, we think, the Committee will be compelled to have recourse at last.

The other problem to which we adverted, is one which is not so liable to be solved as saturated with hot water, and then dragged from one quarter of the metropolis to another before it is settled by some arbitrary decision. We allude to the spot on which the buildings of the Exhibition are to be erected. Hyde Park is not unlikely to be a subject of much contest. The latent idea of preserving the most important part of the “temporary” structure has alarmed all the drivers and riders in Hyde Park, and all those whose windows overlook it. And no wonder;—to say nothing of the crowds and stoppages outside the park, and the slough within, produced by the enormous traffic of heavy wheels, long before the Exhibition opens. Battersea Fields was next 392mentioned, and thought advantageous, not only from the open space they present, but the facilities of water-conveyance for goods and passengers. Still, the distance is rather against such a choice. It would probably reduce the number of times each visitor would go to the Exhibition, and, consequently, be a check upon the money taken at the doors. Hundreds of thousands flock daily to Greenwich during the Fair; but the argument will not hold good, in all respects, as regards the present question. Regent’s Park has been named as more appropriate; but there is a strong and manifest objection to any interference with that much-used place of public recreation. To cut up its green turf, and gravelled roads, would be even more monstrous than any spoliation of Hyde Park. No locality could be selected, perhaps, for such a purpose that would be perfectly free from all objections. Still we are so convinced of the multitude of inconveniences inevitably attendant on such an Exhibition in the midst of the metropolis—and we feel so strongly the cool, high-handed injustice of parcelling out the public property at Court, and stopping up the public breathing-places, for any purpose—that we urge its removal to some spot out of the town, easily accessible both by railway and river.