throughout nearly every day to the Crystal Palace, I have enjoyed large
and various opportunities for studying the English People. I have made
acquaintances in all ranks, from dukes to beggars--all ranks, I should
say, but that which is esteemed the highest. I have of course seen the
Royal family repeatedly at the Exhibition, which is open at all hours to
Jurors, and the Queen times her visits so as to be there mainly while it
is closed to the public. But I have barely seen her party, as I passed
it with a double row of gazers interposed, all eager to catch the
sunlight of Majesty, appearing to care little how much she might be
annoyed or they abased by their unseemly gaping. I hope no Americans
contributed to swell these groups, but after what I have seen here I am
by no means sure of it.
A young countrywoman who has not yet been long enough in Europe to
forget what it cost our forefathers to be rid of all this, but who had
in her own case adequate reasons for desiring a presentation at Court,
gave me some days since a graphic account of the ceremonial, which I
wish I had committed to paper while it was freshly remembered. It is of
course understood that every one presented to her Majesty must appear in
full dress--that of gentlemen (not Military) being a Court suit alike
costly, fantastic and utterly useless elsewhere, while ladies are
expected to appear in rich --> _British_ silk (Free Trade
notwithstanding) with a train three yards long (perhaps it is only three
feet), with plumes, &c. Thus equipped, they proceed to the Palace, where
at the appointed hour the Queen makes her appearance, with her family by
her side and backed by a double row of maids of honor, attendants, &c.
Each palpitating aspirant to the honor of presentation awaits his or her
turn standing, and may thus wait two hours. The Foreign Embassadors have
precedence in presenting; others follow; in due season your name is
called out; you pass before the Royal presence, make your bow or
courtesy, receive the faint suggestion of a response, and pass along and
away to make room for the next customer. Unless you belong essentially
to the Diplomatic circle (being presented by an Embassador will not
answer), you are not allowed to remain and see those behind you take the
plunge, but must hasten forthwith from the presence. And, as ordinary
Humanity has but one aspect in which it is fit to be gazed on by Royal
eyes, you must contrive to quit the presence with your face constantly
turned toward it. Now this need not be difficult for those in masculine
attire, but to the wearers of the rich Spitalfields silks and trains
aforesaid, even though the trains be but three feet long instead of
three yards, the evolution must require no moderate share of feminine
tact and dexterity. It is consoling to hear that all manage to
accomplish it, by dint of severe training through the week preceding the
event; though some are so frightened when the awful moment arrives that
their ghastly visages and tottering frames evince how narrowly they
escape swooning. The fact that it is over in a moment serves materially
to mitigate the torture!
"What ridiculous formalities!--What absurd requirements!" exclaims
Brother Jonathan. No, sir! You are judging without knowledge or without
consideration. These and kindred formalities, considered apart, may be
ludicrous, but, regarded as portions of a system, they are essential. In
a country where everything gravitates so intensely toward the Throne,
there must be impediments to presentation at Court, if the Sovereign is
to enjoy any leisure, peace, comfort, or even time for the most pressing
public duties. There is and should be no absolute barrier to the
presentation of any well-bred, well-behaved person, whether subject or
foreigner; and, if it were as easy as visiting the Exhibition, the Queen
would be required to hold a drawing-room every day, and devote the whole
of it to unmeaning and useless introductions. As the matter is actually
managed, those who have any good reason for it undergo the ceremony,
with many who have none; while the great majority are content with the
knowledge that they _might be_ admitted to the august presence if they
chose to incur the bother and expense. Those who cherish a moth-like
reverence for Royalty indulge it at their own cost and to the advantage
of Trade; weavers, costumers and shop-keepers are very glad to pocket
the money which the presentee must disburse; and even those ladies who
have the _entree_, and so attend half a dozen drawing-rooms per annum,
are expected to appear at each in a new dress--thus the interests of the
shop are never lost sight of. These Court formalities, Brother J., are
_not_ absurd--very far from it. They are rational, politic, beneficent,
indispensable. Whether it is wise or unwise for _your_ young folks to
subject themselves to the inevitable expense and vexation for the sake
of standing a few feet nearer a Queen, is another affair altogether.
When I contrast these presentations with the freedom and ease (except
when there is a jam) of our Presidential receptions--when I remember
that any whole dress is good enough for the White House, and any honest
man or woman (with some not so honest) may go up on a levee night and be
introduced to the President and his lady, saunter through the rooms,
converse with friends and pass in review half the notables of the
Nation--I deeply realize the superiority of Republicanism to Royalty,
but without seeking to put the new wine into old bottles. The forms
appropriate to our simpler institutions would be utterly unsuitable
here--nay, they would be found impossible.
The Queen left London last week for her private residence on the Isle of
Wight, I supposed for weeks; but she was back in the Exhibition early on
Tuesday morning, and has since been holding a Drawing-Room, giving
Dinners, a Concert, &c. with her accustomed activity. She seems resolved
to make the Exhibition Summer an agreeable one for the Foreigners in
attendance, many of whom are included in her invitations. As the
"shilling days" opened meagerly on Monday, to the disappointment
(perhaps because) of the general apprehension of a crush, and as the
numbers thronging thither have rapidly increased ever since, the Queen's
renewed countenance receives a good share of the credit, and her
condescension in coming on a "shilling day" is duly commended. It is
already plain enough that the attendance consequent on the cheap
admission is destined to be enormous. To-day over Fifty Thousand paid
their shilling each, over six thousand per hour--to say nothing of the
thousands who came in on season tickets, or as exhibitors, jurors, &c.
The money taken at the doors to-day must have exceeded $12,000, though
no "excursion trains" have yet come in from the Country. These will
begin to pour in next week, by which time it is to be hoped that the
Juries will have completed their examinations if not their awards; for
they will have scanty elbow-room afterward except at early hours in the
morning. I presume there will be Fifty Thousand admissions paid for
during each of the four "shilling days," of next week. Fridays
henceforth the admission is to be 2s. 6d. (60 cents), and Saturdays 5s.
($1.20), and many believe the Palace will be as crowded on these as on
other days. I doubt.
THE LITERARY GUILD.
"The Guild of Literature and Art" will have already been heard of in
America. It is an undertaking of several fortunate authors and their
friends to make some provision for their unsuccessful brethren--for
those who had the bad luck to be born before their time, as well as
those who would apparently have done better by declining to be born at
all. The world overflows with writers who would fain transmute their
thoughts into bread, and lacking the opportunity, have a slim chance for
any bread at all, even the coarsest. No other class has less worldly
wisdom, less practical thrift; no other suffers more keenly from "the
slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," than unlucky authors. If
anything can be done to mitigate the severity of their fate, and
especially if their more favored brethren can do it, there ought to be
but one opinion as to its propriety.
And yet I fear the issue of this project. The world is scourged by
legions of drones and adventurers who have taken to Literature as in
another age they would have taken to the highway--to procure an easy
livelihood. They write because they are too lazy to work, or because
they would scorn to live on the meager product of manual toil. Of
Genius, they have mainly the eccentricities--that is to say, a strong
addiction to late hours, hot suppers and a profusion of gin and water,
though they are not particular about the water. What Authorship needs
above all things is purification from this Falstaff's regiment, who
should be taught some branch of honest industry and obliged to earn
their living by it. So far, therefore, am I from regretting that every
one who wishes cannot rush into print, and joining in the general
execration of publishers for their insensibility to unacknowledged
merit, that I wish no man could have his book printed until he had
earned the cost thereof by _bona fide_ labor, and that no one could
live by Authorship until after he had practically demonstrated both his
ability and willingness to earn his living in a different way. I greatly
fear the proposed "Guild," even under the wisest regulations, will do as
much harm as good, by aggravating the prevalent tendency toward
Authorship among thousands who never asked whether the world is likely
to profit by their lucubrations, but only whether _they_ may hope to
profit by them. If the "Guild" should tend to increase the number of
aspirants to the honors and rewards of Authorship, it will incite more
misery than it is likely to overcome.
However, this is an attempt to mend the fortunes of unlucky British
Authors; and as we Americans habitually steal the productions of British
Authorship, and deliberately refuse them that protection to which all
producers are justly entitled, I feel myself fairly indebted to the
class, by the amount of my reading of their works to which Copyright in
America is denied. I meant to have attended the first dramatic
entertainment given at Devonshire House in aid of this enterprise, but I
did not apply for a ticket (price L5) till too late; so I took care to
be in season for next time--that is, Tuesday evening of this week.
The play (as before) was "Not so Bad as We Seem, or Many Sides to a
Character," written expressly in aid of the "Guild" by Bulwer, and
performed at the town mansion of the Duke of Devonshire, one of the most
wealthy and popular of the British nobility. On the former evening the
Queen and Royal Family attended, with some scores of the Nobility; this
time there was a sprinkling of Duchesses, &c., but Commoners largely
preponderated, and the hour of commencing was changed from 9 to 7 1/2
P. M. The apartment devoted to the performance is a very fine
one, and the whole mansion, though common-place enough in its exterior,
is fitted up with a wealth of carving, gilding, sculpture, &c., which
can hardly be imagined. The scenes were painted expressly in aid of the
"Guild," and admirably done. The Duke's private band played before and
between the acts, and nothing had been spared on his part to render the
entertainment a pleasant one. Every seat was filled, and, at $10 each
and no expenses out, a handsome sum must have been realized in aid of
the benevolent enterprise.
The male performers, as is well understood, are all Literary amateurs;
the ladies alone being actresses by profession. Charles Dickens had the
principal character--that of a profligate though sound-hearted young
Lord--and he played it very fairly. But stateliness sits ill upon him,
and incomparably his best scene was one wherein he appears in disguise
as a bookseller tempting the virtue of a poverty-stricken author.
Douglas Jerrold was for the nonce a young Mr. Softhead, and seemed quite
at home in the character. It was better played than Dickens's. The
residue were indifferently good--or rather, indifferently bad--and on
the whole the performance was indebted for its main interest to the
personal character of the performers. I was not sorry when it was
concluded.
After a brief interval for refreshments, liberally proffered, a comic
afterpiece, "Mr. Nightingale's Diary," was given with far greater
spirit. Dickens personated the principal character--or rather, the four
or five principal characters--for the life of the piece is sustained by
his appearance successively as a lawyer, a servant, a vigorous and
active gentleman relieved of his distempers by water-cure, a feeble
invalid, &c., &c. It is long since I saw much acting of any account, but
this seemed to me perfect; and I am sure the raw material of a capital
comedian was put to a better use when Charles Dickens took to
authorship. The other characters were fairly presented, and the play
heartily enjoyed throughout.
The curtain fell about half an hour past midnight amidst tumultuous and
protracted applause. The company then mainly repaired to the supper
room, where a tempting display of luxuries and dainties was provided for
them by the munificence of their noble host. I did not venture to
partake at that hour, but those who did would be quite unlikely to
repent of it--till morning. Thence they were gradually moving off to
another superb apartment, where the violins were beginning to give note
of coming melody, to which flying feet were eager to respond; but I
thought one o'clock in the morning quite late enough for retiring, and
so came away before the first set was made up. I do not doubt the
dancing was maintained with spirit till broad daylight.
THE FISHMONGERS' DINNER.
A sumptuous entertainment was given on Wednesday (last) evening by the
"Ancient and Honorable Company of Fishmongers"--this being their regular
annual festival. The Fishmongers' is among the oldest and wealthiest of
the Guilds of London, having acquired, by bequest or otherwise, real
estate which has been largely enhanced in value by the city's extension.
Originally an association of actual fishmongers for mutual service as
well as the cultivation of good fellowship, it has been gradually
transformed by Time's changes until now no single dealer in fish (I
understood) stands enrolled among its living members, and no fish is
seen within the precincts of its stately Hall save on feast-days like
this. Still, as its rents are ample, its privileges valuable, its
charities bounteous, its dinners superlative, its cellars stored with
ancient wines, and its leaning decided toward modern ideas, its roll of
members is well filled. Most of them are city men extensively engaged in
business, two or three of the City's Members of Parliament being among
them. There were perhaps a dozen Members present, including Lord
Palmerston, Foreign Secretary of State, and Joseph Hume, the
world-known Economist. The chair was filled by "Sir John Easthope, Prime
Warden." The chairmen of the several Juries at the Exhibition were among
the guests.
Having recently described the Dinner to the Foreign Commissioners at
Richmond, I can dispatch this more summarily, only noting what struck me
as novel. Suffice it that the company, three hundred strong, was duly
seated, grace said, the dinner served, and more than two hours devoted
to its consumption. It was now ten o'clock, and Lord Palmerston, who was
expected to speak and reputed to be rarely gifted with fluency, was
obliged to leave for the Queen's Concert. Up to this time, no man had
been plied with more than a dozen kinds of wine, each (I presume) very
good, but altogether (I should suppose) calculated to remind the drinker
of his head on rising in the morning. The cloth was now removed and
after-grace sung by a choir, for even _with_ two prayers this sort of
omnivorous feasting at night is not quite healthy. I trust there is no
presumption involved in the invocation of a blessing on such
indulgences, yet I could imagine that an omission of one of the prayers
might be excused if half the dinner were omitted also.
But the eatables were removed, silence restored, and three enormous
flagons, apparently of pure gold, placed on the table near its head. The
herald or toast-master now loudly made proclamation: "My Lord Viscount
Ebrington, my Lord de Mauley, Baron Charles Dupin (&c. &c., reciting the
names and titles of all the guests), the honorable Prime Warden, the
junior Wardens and members of the ancient and honorable Company of
Fishmongers bid you welcome to their hospitable board, and in token
thereof beg leave to drink your healths"--whereupon the Prime-Warden
rose, bowing courteously to his right-hand neighbor (who rose also), and
proceeded to drink his health, wiping with his napkin the rim of the
flagon, and passing it to the neighbor aforesaid, who in turn bowed and
drank to _his_ next neighbor and passed the wine in like manner, and so
the flagons made the circuit of the tables. Then the festive board was
re-covered with decanters, and the intellectual enjoyments of the
evening commenced, the vinous not being intermitted.
The toasts were, "The Queen," "Prince Albert and the Royal Family," "The
Foreign Commissioners to the World's Exhibition," "The Royal
Commissioners," "The Army and Navy," "The House of Lords," "The House of
Commons," "The Health of the Prime Warden," "Civil and Religious
Liberty," "The Ministry," "The Bank of England," &c. The responsive
speeches were made by Baron Dupin for the Foreign Commissioners, Earl
Granville for the Royal ditto, Lord de Mauley for the Peers, Viscount
Ebrington for the Commons, Gen. Sir Hugh de Lacy Evans for the Army,
Solicitor General Wood (in the absence of Lord Palmerston) for the
Ministry, the Deputy-Governor in behalf of the Governor of the Bank of
England, Dr. Lushington in response to Civil and Religious Liberty, and
so on. When Baron Dupin rose to respond for the Foreign Commissioners,
they all rose and stood while he spoke, and so in turn with the Royal
Commissioners, Members of the House of Commons, &c. Earl Granville's was
the most amusing, Dr. Lushington's the most valuable speech of the
evening. It briefly glanced at past struggles in modern times for the
extension of Freedom in England, and hinted at similar struggles to
come, pointing especially to Law Reform. Dr. L. is a very earnest
speaker, and has won a high rank at the Bar and in public confidence.
I was more interested, however, in the remarks of Mr. Sergeant Talfourd,
author of "Ion," and of Sir James Brooke, "Rajah of Sarawak" (Borneo, E.
I.), who spoke at a late hour in reply to a personal allusion. I do not
mean that Mr. Talfourd's remarks especially impressed me, for they did
not, but I was glad of this opportunity of hearing him. The Rajah is a
younger and more vivacious man than I had fancied him, rather ornate in
manner, and spoke (unlike an Englishman) with more fluency than force,
in self-vindication against the current charge of needless cruelty in
the destruction of a nest of pirates in the vicinity of his Oriental
dominions. From reading, I had formed the opinion that he is doing a
good work for Civilization and Humanity in Borneo, but this speech did
not strengthen my conviction.
Farther details would only be tedious. Enough that the Fishmongers'
Dinner ended at midnight, when all quietly and steadily departed. In
"the good old days," I presume a considerable proportion both of hosts
and guests would by this time have been under the table. Let us rejoice
over whatever improvement has been made in social habits and manners,
and labor to extend it.
XII.
THE FLAX-COTTON REVOLUTION.
LONDON, Wednesday, June 4, 1851.
Although I have not yet found time for a careful and thorough
examination of the machinery and processes recently invented or adopted
in Europe for the manufacture of cheap fabrics from Flax, I have seen
enough to assure me of their value and importance. I have been
disappointed only with regard to machinery for Flax-Dressing, which
seems, on a casual inspection, to be far less efficient than the best on
our side of the Atlantic, especially that patented of late in Missouri
and Kentucky. That in operation in the British Machinery department of
the Exhibition does its work faultlessly, except that it turns out the
product too slowly. I roughly estimate that our Western machines are at
least twice as efficient.
M. CLAUSSEN is here, and has kindly explained to me his processes and
shown me their products. He is no inventor of Flax-dressing Machinery at
all, and claims nothing in that line. In dressing, he adopts and uses the
best machines he can find, and I think is destined to receive important
aid from American inventions. What he claims is mainly the discovery of a
cheap chemical solvent of the Flax fiber, whereby its coarseness and
harshness are removed and the fineness and softness of Cotton induced in
their stead. This he has accomplished. Some of his Flax-Cotton is scarcely
distinguishable from the Sea Island staple, while to other samples he has
given the character of Wool very nearly. I can imagine no reason why this
Cotton should not be spun and woven as easily as any other. The staple may
be rendered of any desired length, though the usual average is about two
inches. It is as white as any Cotton, being made so by an easy and cheap
bleaching process. M. Claussen's process in lieu of Rotting requires but
three hours for its completion. It takes the Flax as it came from the
field, only somewhat dryer and with the seed beaten off, and renders it
thoroughly fit for breaking. The plant is allowed to ripen before it is
harvested, so that the seed is all saved, while the tediousness and injury
to the fiber, not to speak of the unwholesomeness, of the old-fashioned
Rotting processes are entirely obviated. Where warmth is desirable in the
fabrics contemplated, the staple is made to resemble Wool quite closely.
Specimens dyed red, blue, yellow, &c., are exhibited, to show how readily
and satisfactorily the Flax-Cotton takes any color that may be desired.
Beside these lie rolls of Flannels, Feltings, and almost every variety of
plain textures, fabricated wholly or in good part from Flax as prepared
for Spinning under M. Claussen's patent, proving the adaptation of this
fiber to almost every use now subserved by either Cotton or Wool. The
mixtures of Cotton and Flax, Flax-Cotton and Wool, are excellent and
serviceable fabrics.
The main question still remains to be considered--will it _pay_? Flax
may be grown almost anywhere--two or three crops a year of it in some
climates--a crop of it equal to three times the present annual product
of Cotton, Flax and Wool all combined could easily be produced even next
year. But unless cheaper fabrics, all things considered, can be produced
from Flax-Cotton than from the Mississippi staple, this fact is of
little worth. On this vital point I must of course rely on testimony,
and M. Claussen's is as follows:
He says the Flax-straw, or the ripe, dry plant as it comes from the
field, with the seed taken off, may be grown even here for $10 per tun,
but he will concede its cost for the present to be $15 per tun,
delivered, as it is necessary that liberal inducements shall be given
for its extensive cultivation. Six tuns of the straw or flax in the
bundle will yield one tun of dressed and clean fiber, the cost of
dressing which by his methods, so as to make it Flax Cotton, is $35 per
tun. (Our superior Western machinery ought considerably to reduce this.)
The total cost of the Flax-Cotton, therefore, will be $125 per tun or
six cents per pound, while Flax-straw as it comes from the field is
worth $15 per tun; should this come down to $10 per tun, the cost of the
fiber will be reduced to $95 per tun, or less than five cents per pound.
At that rate, good "field-hands" must be rather slow of sale for
Cotton-planting at $1,000 each, or even $700.