p>The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction / Volume 13, No. 362, March 21, 1829
CHESTER TERRACE, REGENT'S PARK.
CHESTER TERRACE,
REGENT'S PARK
On the annexed page is a spirited representation of this splendid range of palatial residences, which present as noble an appearance as any similar structure in the Park.
To familiarize the topography of Chester Terrace, we should say it stands between the Colosseum and St. Katharine's Church, these being the most conspicuous buildings in the circle; and the majestic cupola of the former building is shown in the distance of our engraving.
This terrace is named from the royal earldom of Chester. It is from the designs of Mr. Nash, the architect of York Terrace engraved in our No. 358. Like the majority of that gentleman's works, Chester Terrace evinces great genius, with many of its irregularities. It is of the Corinthian order of architecture, characterized by its richness; but the present specimen is weak in its details, and the form and proportions of its balustrade are starved and lanky. The capitals of the columns want the gracefulness of the Corinthian, and the volutes are but puny illustrations of that beautiful order.
Leaving these defects to be further scrutinized by the more critical spectator, we cannot fail to be impressed with this grand and commanding terrace; the composition exhibits great genius and powerful conception; and the effect of the whole would be extremely beautiful, were it not for the defective details.
At each end of the terrace is a Corinthian arch, the idea of which is altogether novel. These arches connect with pavilion temple-like mansions, and their effect is very rich and picturesque. They remind one of some of the trophied glories of old Rome—the arches beneath which her laurelled heroes passed in triumphal state. Chester Terrace may, therefore, be said to associate otium cum dignitate, since these arches give a splendid finish to the range of handsome residences. The mementos of Roman triumph still remain; but a century hence, where will be the lath-and-plaster glories of the Regent's Park?
HAVER
"Haver" is a common word in the northern counties for oats; as "haver bread," for oaten bread; perhaps properly "aven," from "avena," Latin for oats.
Query.—Is not "haversack," or, Gallice, "havre-sac," a bag to carry a soldier's bread and provisions, derived from the same word?
ANCIENT POWER OF THE HARO, OR HAROL
Clamour de haro is a cry or formula of invoking the assistance of justice against the violence of some offender, who, upon hearing of the word haro, is obliged to desist, on pain of being severely punished for his outrage, and to go with the party before the judge. The word is commonly derived of ha and roul, as being supposed an invocation of the sovereign power, to assist the weak against the strong, on occasion of Raoul, first duke of Normandy, about the year 912, who rendered himself venerable to his subjects, by the severity of his justice; so that they called on him, even after his death, when they suffered any oppression. Some derive it from Harola, king of Denmark, who, in the year 826, was made grand conservator of justice at Mentz. Others from the Danish a a rau, help me, a cry raised by the Normans in flying from a king of Denmark, named Roux, who made himself duke of Normandy. The haro had anciently such vast power, that a poor man of the city of Caen, named Asselin, in virtue thereof, arrested the corpse of William the Conqueror, in the middle of the funeral procession, till such time as his son Henry had paid the value of the land in question, which was that whereon the chapel was built wherein he was interred.
THE GREAT TUN OF KONIGSTEIN
One of the greatest curiosities in the neighbourhood of Dresden is the Great Tun, erected at Fort Konigstein by General Kyaw, the height of which is 17 Dresden ells, and its diameter at the bung 12 ells. This vast vessel, which is always replenished with excellent wine, is capable of containing 3,709 hogsheads; and on its head is a plate with a Latin inscription, to the following purport:—
"Welcome, traveller, and admire this monument, dedicated to festivity, in order to exhilarate the mind with a glass, in the year 1725, by Frederick Augustus, king of Poland and elector of Saxony, the father of his country, the Titus of the age, the delight of mankind. Therefore, drink to the health of the sovereign, the country, the electoral family, and Baron Kyaw, governor of Konigstein; and if thou art able, according to the dignity of this cask, the most capacious of all casks, drink to the prosperity of the whole universe—and so farewell."
THE COOK AND THE CRANES
Don John de Ayala,—a chap
Whose worst mishap
Was to be curs'd with a purloining cook.
(A fellow, who 'twas plain
Play'd "cut and come again,"
And scarcely reck'd, if all was seen he took.)
Don John de Ayala, went forth to look
For birds, and shot a crane;
Which, forthwith giving the aforesaid knave
To cook, according to the Spanish taste;
He, to his dainty-loving sposa gave
A leg at once, well deeming, that to waste
So fair an opportunity for sin
Would be (as he should say a burning shame;)
But, when the bird, at dinner-time went in,
Cried Juan, "Where's the left leg of my game?"
"Soul of my body, sir!" roar'd cook,—no fire
In his own kitchen, showing phiz more red,
Yet whether thus, from guilt he blazed, or ire,
Or shame perdie, hath ne'er been sung or said,
"Soul of my body!—other leg?—Well done!—
No crane that e'er I saw, had more than one."
Juan, thus silenc'd, but not satisfied,
In his own mind revolv'd
The neatest way
Of telling master Brazenface, he lied;
And so resolv'd
To take him out crane-shooting the next day.
They went:—"Well, cook," quoth Ayala, "for fun
I've brought thee here,
Where quickly 'twill appear
That if cranes have not two legs,—why, they've none."
"Say you so, Senor?—look!—yon long-neck'd flock,
Each bird of it on one foot, ends the matter;
Ay—there they stand,—as firm as any rock,
I swear by ev'ry dish I ever broke, or platter."
Straight to the flock, flight, covey, (we've no name
In Albion, to designate such game.)
Rush'd Ayala, whose hearty psho! psho! psho!
Took the cranes off one leg,—discovering two,
As up they rose, on rustling, sullen wing:
"Well cook?" "Why, body of my soul, sir, there's
