" On we go again, through the noble
avenue of trees near Dunchurch; through quaint and picturesque Coventry;
past Meriden, where we see the words, "Meriden School," built curiously,
with vari-coloured bricks, into a boundary wall. On still; until at
length the coachman, as the sun declines to the west, points out, amid a
gloomy cloud in front of us, the dim outlines of the steeples and
factory chimneys of Birmingham. On still; down the wide open roadway of
Deritend; past the many-gabled "Old Crown House;" through the only
really picturesque street in Birmingham--Digbeth; up the Bull Ring, the
guard merrily trolling out upon his bugle, "See the Conquering Hero
Comes;" round the corner into New Street where we pull up--the horses
covered with foam--at the doors of "The Swan." Our journey has taken us
just twelve hours.
And this is Birmingham! The place which I, in pleasant Kent and Surrey,
had so often heard of, but had never seen. This is the town which, five
years before, had vanquished the Conqueror of the Great Napoleon! This
is the place which, for the first time in his life, had compelled the
great Duke of Wellington to capitulate! This is the home of those who,
headed by Attwood, had compelled the Duke and his army--the House of
Lords--to submit, and to pass the memorable Reform Bill of 1832!
My destination was at the top of Bull Street, where my apartments were
ready, and a walk to that spot completed an eventful day for me.
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