Oxford is an ugly old town, of crooked
and irregular streets, gabled houses, mostly plastered of a buff or
yellow hue; some new fronts; and as for the buildings of the University,
they seem to be scattered at random, without any reference to one
another. I passed through an old gateway of Christ Church, and looked at
its enclosed square, and that is, in truth, pretty much all I then saw of
the University of Oxford. From Christ Church we rambled along a street
that led us to a bridge across the Isis; and we saw many row-boats lying
in the river,--the lightest craft imaginable, unless it were an Indian
canoe. The Isis is but a narrow stream, and with a sluggish current. I
believe the students of Oxford are famous for their skill in rowing.
To me as well as to J----- the hot streets were terribly oppressive; so
we went into the Roebuck Hotel, where we found a cool and pleasant
coffee-room. The entrance to this hotel is through an arch, opening from
High Street, and giving admission into a paved court, the buildings all
around being part of the establishment,--old edifices with pointed gables
and old-fashioned projecting windows, but all in fine repair, and wearing
a most quiet, retired, and comfortable aspect. The court was set all
round with flowers, growing in pots or large pedestalled vases; on one
side was the coffee-room, and all the other public apartments, and the
other side seemed to be taken up by the sleeping-chambers and parlors of
the guests.
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