Europe and elsewhere, by Mark Twain [pseud.] [with an appreciation by Brander Matthews and an introduction by Albert Bigelow Paine]

EUROPE AND ELSEWHERE
holiest ground in the British Empire, if profusion of
kingly bones and kingly names of old renown make
holy ground. For here in this little space were the
ashes, the monuments and gilded effigies, of ten of
the most illustrious personages who have worn
crowns and borne scepters in this realm. This
royal dust was the slow accumulation of hundreds of
years. The latest comer entered into his rest four
hundred years ago, and since the earliest was sepulchered, more than eight centuries have drifted by.
Edward the Confessor, Henry the Fifth, Edward the
First, Edward the Third, Richard the Second, Henry
the Third, Eleanor, Philippa, Margaret Woodvilleit was like bringing the collossal myths of history
out of the forgotten ages and speaking to them face
to face. The gilded effigies were scarcely marredthe faces were comely and majestic, old Edward the
First looked the king-one had no impulse to be
familiar with him. While we were contemplating the figure of Queen Eleanor lying in state, and
calling to mind how like an ordinary human being
the great king mourned for her six hundred years
ago, we saw the vast illuminated clock face of the
Parliament House tower glowering at us through a
window of the Abbey and pointing with both hands to
midnight. It was a derisive reminder that we were a
part of this present sordid, plodding, commonplace
time, and not august relics of a bygone age and the
comrades of kings-and then the booming of the
great bell tolled twelve, and with the last stroke
the mocking clock face vanished in sudden darkness
and left us with the past and its grandeurs again.
Io