IRON RAILINGS
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Sra,—I am delighted with the singularly enlightened article by Mr. Harold Cox on the removal of railings, which is well in the Free Trade tradition, and nothing less than what one would expect of a former secretary of the Cobden Club.
I am afraid he has overlooked the spiritual implication of these obstructions. In a land where property is the chief of our gods, railings are at once a symbol of what we most worship, and of what most afflicts us. On the other hand, when Mr. Lansbury says that park railings are no good because " people who desire to be wicked will find a way to be so whatever is done," he overlooks two facts, viz., that where there are no railings there is no sense of wickedness, and where there is no sense of wickedness there is no fun, so that railings sometimes give us a pleasure of which their removal would deprive us in an already over-sad world.
Also, if railings are to be taken down, I trust those round the British Museum will be taken down last, since whenever I enter its gloomy portals, the heavy railings do, at least, make me feel that I am going to see something worth while. If I could stroll in over a grass plot, I am afraid I should only see the contents as they really are—and as regards a great many of them, e.g., the Galsworthy MSS., that would be too terribly disillusioning. As for the National Gallery, I do not see how possibly there could be too many railings round the new Duveen room.
I am surprised that the railings round our parks and museums have obscured Mr. Cox's view of the worst railings of all, to wit, those at the Zoo. The other railings merely cause a little inconvenience or artistic discomfort, those at the Zoo in many cases cause suffering. By all means have them down, unless they can be put to their proper use, which should be to confine stag hunters, coursing addicts, pigeon shooters and other sadists.
My real object in addressing you, however, is to urge a reform in our parks which would, I believe, add enormously to their beauty. One of their greatest charms is their exquisite expanses of green turf, and it is quite obvious that this charm can only be preserved if railings exist. The railings, nevertheless, detract from the charm, but the latter can be preserved and in fact heightened, while the utility of the former is preserved but concealed. I have specially in mind the walk from Queen Anne's Gate through St. James's Park over the .suspension bridge to the Mall.
Thanks to the skilful direction of Sir Lionel Earle with his inherited taste in gardening, there is literally nothing in any capital of Europe which excels this stretch of public park. The only thing which offends is the forbidding line of railings on either side, of which, however, the necessity is obvious. I suggest that a double line of beech hedge be planted inside these railings, and that when this hedge' has attained the height of the railings, these latter should be taken up and replaced on the far side of the hedge. They would there serve the same purpose that they do to-day, but their ugly utilitarianism would be masked from view.
I need not enumerate the many other places in 'our parks where the same treatment might be adopted, and where in place of the present hideous barrier we might have instead a line of cool green in summer, and of warm cheerful brown in winter.
Safeguarding can never be economically desirable, but it can be: made aesthetically bearable.—I am, Sir, &c., Pivezvetits Cottage, Crowborough. R. FLETchha.
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