IV. NEW PALACE OF WESTMINSTER.

BEFORE we attempt a description of the new Seat of British Legislation, called, in association with the monarchy, the New Palace of Westminster, let us notice some of the surrounding objects. And first let us glance at the line of buildings immediately opposite Westminster Abbey, stretching along Margaret-street, and shutting out for the present the view of the land front of the new pile. It consists, first, of the Law Courts, each with its public entrance into Westminster Hall at the back; next, of the buildings that have been used since the fire of 1834, for the sittings of the Lords and Commons. A strange medley this line of exterior here presents-bald looking Tudor architecture-private looking doors, opening into apparently unimportant private residences-old decayed brick-work-wooden erections towering up, and running about in various directions-and over all the gorgeous architecture of the new pile gradually stretching forth its bulk, preparatory, as it were, to thrusting the whole altogether out of its way. That House of Lords, which has so lately ceased to be used, contains portions of the walls of the chamber in which Edward the Confessor died, and which possibly from that circumstance was first named St. Edward's chamber. Subsequently it was called the Painted Chamber, under which name it will be remembered for centuries after the last vestige of it shall have disappeared. It was in that chamber the warrant for the execution of Charles the First was signed. There all parliaments for several centuries used to be opened-though not subsequently used by them in their sittings. There oil painting was in use two centuries before Van Eyck, as we used to think, discovered the art. It was long a matter of wonder what the name "Painted Chamber" could mean, until, on the removal of some old tapestry in 1800, the walls and window-jambs were found to be covered with pictures representing the battles of the Maccabees, incidents relating to the life of Edward the Confessor, and other subjects. The accounts of the payments made for mending these paintings are still in existence, and are contained in a roll of the 20th of Edward the First's reign. This was not the original House of Lords. That building was taken after the fire of 1834 to make the present House of Commons. In looking then upon this latter building, which will also soon disappear under the advances of the new pile, we look upon the scene of those historical events which have been indissolubly connected with the locality of the Upper House.

Previous to its destination to that purpose, it had been used as and was known by the name of the Court of Requests, because there the masters of the court received and answered petitions or requests for justice from all parties. Going back still farther into the depths of the past, we find the same chamber called the White Hall, also the Lesser Hall, and lastly, probably originally, the Hall simply, or the Great Hall, for it is supposed to have been the original hall of the Confessor's palace, and to have descended to the position and name of the Lesser Hall when Rufus built his new banquetting-hall-that which has since been so famous as Westminster Hall.

And which, then, is the old House of Commons, we naturally ask, on finding that neither of the houses raised since the fire of 1834, was originally used by the popular representatives? If, standing by the base of Henry VII.'s Chapel, and with the Abbey Chapter House behind us, we look directly opposite, we see before us, over the houses of which we have been speaking, the gorgeous magnificence of a kind of wing transept

that projects from the centre of the new pile. Within that transept, which extends up to the central tower, and is lighted by magnificent cathedral-like windows, we find St. Stephen's Porch, and beyond that St. Stephen's Hall, the latter being on the site of St. Stephen's Chapel-the old House of Commons, which was utterly destroyed by the fire of 1834. It is supposed to have been founded by King Stephen in honour of the proto-martyr, and was rebuilt and sumptuously decorated during the reigns of the first three Edwards. The college being suppressed at the Reformation, St. Stephen's Chapel was turned by Edward VI. into the Commons' meeting-house; who then ceased to be indebted to the Abbot of Westminster's uncertain hospitality; and so matters remained until the fire of 1834. The pictorial wealth of its walls remained long unsuspected; but on the Union with Ireland in 1800, alterations were made which led to the discovery that the internal walls had been most gorgeously decorated with sculpture, paintings, and gilding; that the exquisite tracery of the windows had been filled with stained and painted glass; and that in a word, the whole interior had been of the most sumptuous description.

Turning from these vestiges of the past, and which will for the most part soon cease even to be that, we turn to one and unquestionably the most magnificent feature of the old palace, one filled to overflowing with those great events which nourish the national intellect and aspiration, we turn to Westminster Hall, which happily belongs to the future pile, as indissolubly as to the past. Let us be grateful that the fire spared that. Rufus, it is well known, built this hall.

The very uninteresting-looking Law Courts suggest on such a site extremely interesting reminiscences. Here law has grown up, like the parliament, from a state of entire dependence into a very vigorous individual strength; both were nothing more than separate records of the king's will-the one dealing with the moneys he wanted the other with the law he was obliged to dispense, and which originally formed no slight personal exaction, when he sat himself on the bench, and might be appealed to by all comers.

We may here briefly mention that the Law Courts comprise the Queen's Bench, the Court of Exchequer, the Court of Common Pleas, the Lord Chancellor's Court, and the Rolls Court. They are at once uninteresting in their appearance, and fortunately they are temporary: they will all be removed in the progress of the new pile.

Upon that work we now commence our survey in New Palace Yard, which at present is open to Margaret-street on the west side, and bounded by the houses in Bridgestreet on the north. But if we look upon the New Clock-tower in the corner near the bridge, we see indications of what is intended with regard to this space. An immense blank, suggesting the shape and size of a cathedral window, is filled up with brickwork in the lower portion of the tower, and contrasts oddly with the finished elegance of all other parts of the structure. That is the future opening to a wing which will start from the Clock-tower, displace all the houses on that side of Bridge-Street, extend up to Margaret-street, there cross to the corner occupied by the law courts, and then return to the side of Westminster Hall; thus inclosing the whole area. On the other side of Westminster IIall the same line of enclosure will be continued to the new façade of the west front. Here, there will be arches of ingress and egress to and from the Star Chamber Court, where will be the chief entrance for Members. A similar arch, but of greater magnificence, will connect this quadrangle with the world of London without, at the angle of its north and west fronts, in Margaret-street. It is proposed to use some portions of these new buildings as public refreshment and meeting-rooms, and also for offices connected with parliamentary business.

The west or land front of the New Houses will ultimately be the most picturesque

and rich, because the most varied in its surface, of all the fronts. Two different aspects of it may be briefly noted as peculiarly fine. The one is from a point nearly opposite Westminster Hall, with the Clock-tower, and the first or level portion of the façade on the left, and from which point you look between the Hall and the façade, over the Star Chamber Court to the building that emerges crosswise from the central tower, looking like what it will in part be, a National Valhalla. The second is from Henry VII.'s Chapel, and commands the end and a side view of St. Stephen's Hall and Porch. A vast high-pitched gable, enclosing a window of the grandest dimensions, with slight tall square pinnacles on each side, and large turret towers on each side of these again, while to the right rises the grand bulk of the Central Tower, stage after stage, these are the first features that arrest the eye on looking at the side (or southern front, it may be called,) of the wing in question. Then, looking more closely, to understand the general impression of wealth, amounting to lavish profusion, that is conveyed to the eye even in the first glance, we find these tall square pinnacles contain two statues-Edward III. and Henry VII.; that the top of the gable comprises three, namely, William Rufus, Richard II., and William IV. in whose reign the pile was commenced, all these statues being as magnificently environed as art can make them; that the triangular space between the windows and the gable-roof above is filled with the arms, badges, and cognizances of Richard II. in high relief, under canopies; that the turret-towers, at each corner of the end of the wings are pierced through and through, so that the light reveals-while, as it were, helping to create a part of their structure; and, lastly, that every portion of the stone seems moulded or pannelled on the surface, and crocketed or indented on the edges. Beyond this part, the Old Houses yet occupy the space that properly belongs to the continuation of the level part of the façade, until we reach Victoria Tower, which forms the termination of the land front in the southern direction. The Central or Octagon Tower demands a few additional words. Looked at in its future completed shape, it presents, first, one great lantern or stage, three lights in height, with flying buttresses, pinnacled. Above that rises a second story, two lights high; and finally, over all, a Gothic spire, richly crocketed. The entire height is 240 feet.

The architecture of these level portions may be described thus: first, the basement story, even with the ground, is lighted by a row of double flat-pointed windows, within a square moulding, modest-looking as becomes a basement, but handsome enough to harmonise with the splendour above. That consists, one might almost say, of nothing but windows from end to end, and from roof to basement of the façade, divided, for convenience, into innumerable elegant divisions of various kinds, vertical and horizontal. But as we fear that would hardly be a sufficient architectural description, we must say then there are three stories of windows, divided horizontally by rich bands of sculpture, and perpendicularly by buttresses, the sumptuous character of which may be judged, when we say, each contains three statues beneath niches, one above the other, terminating at top in most elegant light pinnacles, rising high above the line of roof, and at bottom in crocketed canopies, with large crowns beneath. These buttresses occur after every two windows along the whole façade. Over each triple tier of windows rises a terminating niche, set in a kind of battlement, also above the line of roof but not so high as the pinnacles; consequently there is a kind of undulating broken line of roof suggested to the eye, above the actual line. Of the general style of the architecture of the New Palace it is difficult to speak in precise words. Mr. Barry has thus negatively described his original intention :-"It has been my aim to avoid the ecclesiastical, collegiate, castellated, and domestic styles, and to select that which I consider better suited to the peculiar appropriation of the buildings." He

would, perhaps, use the word Palatial in preference to any other, if he did seek to denominate the style. "Elizabethan," or "Gothic," were the words used by the Commissioners when they announced the competition which resulted in the choice of Mr. Barry's design.

We will now enter the temporary enclosure that has been drawn round the works, and pass under an arch by the base of the Clock-Tower, towards the north front,—the part seen from the Westminster end of the bridge, and which keeps there a tolerably constant succession of admiring gazers. But let us first say a few words upon the materials scattered about in such profusion-and, to our eyes, confusion-in every part of the basement of the growing pile which feeds upon them. There are great masses of stone from Anston, in Yorkshire; which place was selected, after a most elaborate scientific research by various commissioners, as affording the best that England possessed. It is a magnesian limestone-warm and beautiful in colour, and so durable as to be worthy of being hewn and carved into shapes that the world would not willingly see decay. This is used for the external masonry. The River Terrace wall required a different kind of structure, one capable of resisting water, and was built of Aberdeen granite. The bricks lying about among the stone are used for internal linings. The main-beams and joists are everywhere iron :-so that, on the whole, we may reasonably hope we have secured ourselves at last from the enemy that has so often destroyed the structure here that our kings have delighted to raise and to adorn with their utmost means. Thus, there was a fire in Henry III.'s time, which burned the Palace of the Confessor, and which Henry rebuilt in the same spirit of magnificence, and with the same lavish recklessness of expenditure, that he exhibited in his works at the abbey adjoining. During the reign of his son Edward I., occurred a second great fire, the ravages of which were repaired in 1294. A third occurred in 1298, which seems to have been so extensively injurious that many years elapsed before the work of restoration was commenced. But at last the works were taken up in earnest during the reign of Edward III.; and from 1330, for a considerable number of years, elaborate reparations and improvements were carried on. This was the time that the Painted Chamber and St. Stephen's were raised to the climax of their splendours; and when the poet Chaucer was clerk of the works. Again, in the time of Henry VIII., the enemy renewed the struggle, and the Palace was almost destroyed; and then royalty succumbed. Henry went to Whitehall; and so ended the history of Westminster as a royal residence. But the Parliament remained; and this was burnt out in 1834. Like many other terrible scourges-cholera, to wit-fires are probably often only salutary lessons that we will not listen to until we are compelled. We have learnt the lesson here, at all events;—the new pile is to be fire-proof. The last material we have to mention is also the only one that can in its nature in any way affect the safety of the Palace-the oak wainscot which covers so large a portion of the wall surfaces of the interior; but the precaution taken in every part affords, we believe, full security.

Passing now through the Arch by the base of the Clock-tower, and looking at the stone groins above, which seem to say, "We build here for the future," we find on the left, within the Clock-tower, a place bearing the ominous name of the Prison; intended, we presume, for those who in any way oppose the order of the omnipotent Houses; also for refractory M.P.'s who will fight duels,-if not prevented. Beyond this archway we find the north front; and turning, we have before us, the best view of the lower part of the Clock-tower,-which, tall as it already is, has not yet arrived at those stages of maturity, which are considered sufficient for it to have the future clock yet placed upon its Atlas-like shoulders. That clock will become one of the

popular curiosities of London. It is to be constructed under the superintendence of Professor Airy, the Astronomer Royal, will be an eight-day clock, will strike the hours on a bell weighing from eight to ten tons, chime the quarters on eight bells, and show the time on four dials, occupying respectively the four sides of the Clock-tower, cach dial being very nearly twice as large as that of St. Paul's, which is eighteen feet, while these will be nearly thirty feet in diameter. The tower itself is a very solidlooking, square-shaped, yet stately structure, pierced only with very long and very narrow slits for windows, tolerably close together, in successive tiers, the whole of the intervening spaces elegantly panelled to correspond. Rich bands cross horizontally at intervals, and the surface is further decorated with scrolls, mottoes, &c. A buttress or turret at each corner, rising from the base to the top of the Tower, imparts great additional effect; which is further enhanced by an apparent slight expansion of these buttresses up to a certain height, suggesting at once additional solidity and picturesqueness of form. The Tower, we may add, measures forty feet square. The Clock-tower is a name familiar to the site; and it is a valuable merit of Mr. Barry's design that so much has been done by him to preserve old associations, as far as possible, in connection with the old sites of the palace. This Clock-tower, for instance (and other cases will occur as we proceed), stands not far from the spot upon which stood the old clock-tower of the ancient palace.

The north front extends from the Clock-tower (which stands out from its line at the western extremity) to the edge of the Thames, where it is terminated by one of the two towers that decorate that end of the river front. Nothing can be more beautiful or pure in its own peculiar style, than the effect of this sumptuous façade. There is the same kind of basement-story as in the west front, but above there are only two stories; consequently the windows are individually more magnificent. Then the divisions between the windows are far richer and more elaborate. Between every two windows occurs a buttress (part of a hexagon), richly worked all over; and the two windows that are enclosed between these chief divisions are again divided by a perpendicular series of statues and niches, four in number, one above another. Horizontally the two stories of windows are divided by a broad massive band, covered with large shields and crowns: beneath this band runs a continuous line of inscription along the entire front, in black-letter Latin, showing the names, dates of the commencing to reign, and of the close in death, of the sovereigns whose statues are sculptured above. This long line of kings commences with Hengist, and ends with Harold the north front dealing only with the Saxon monarchs of England. course, the statues are purely ideal: no materials exist for attempting likenesses, &c. Before leaving the north front, one cannot but take a parting glance at one of its smallest but not least charming features,-the lace-work in iron that marks out, in its own delicate fairy-like way, the line of roofs.

Of

The river front is at present, on account of its magnitude (nine-hundred feet in length), and its completed state, by far the most magnificent portion of the new pile; and this very magnificence has led to the frequent repetition of the complaint,-What a pity it cannot be better seen; What a pity that so much exquisite work should be wasted on the desert air of the Thames! But this complaint, it seems to us, has its origin, like most others we have heard on the subject of this grand structure, in forgetfulness that everywhere we look as yet but on parts of the intended whole, and are, therefore, continually judging the architect while lacking some of the most important elements of right judgment. We can speak from our own experience in this matter: again and again, in walking through the pile, we have said, "This part certainly looks tame," till we have remembered that a grand tower was rising just