works in government is of little consequence as compared with its
ultimate effect on national character under modern conditions; for it is
all out of accord with the spirit of modern progress, and if it ever
served a useful purpose, it has well outlived it. One may justly claim
that the king and the nobility have really little to do with governing,
especially since the abolition of the veto of the House of Lords; that
the will of the people finds expression in England quite as strongly as
anywhere; but even if we admit this, I cannot see that it offers any
argument in favor of feudalism. No one can make a tour of England such
as ours and not observe the spirit of servility among the common people
due to the inbred reverence for a title. Indeed, there is no feeling in
England that all men are born free and equal, or that one man is quite
as good as another so long as he behaves himself. A mere title, Sir,
Duke, Earl, Lord or what-not, creates at once a different order of being
and the toadyism to such titular distinctions is plainly noticeable
everywhere. An earl or a duke is at our hotel; he may be a bankrupt,
inconsequential fellow, it is true; he may not have a single personal
trait to command respect and he may not be engaged in any useful
industry. But there is much salaaming and everyone about the place
assumes an awe-stricken, menial attitude, merely because the gentleman
has the prefix Earl or Duke--there can be no other reason. Is it strange
that such a spirit causes the common people to lose self-reliance and
yield up their ambition to be anything more than their fathers before
them? A proportion of the nobility may be composed of men of character
and ability, fitted to occupy positions of authority and public
responsibility and the present king may be all that a king should be;
but the system is wrong and its effect on English character can hardly
fail to have an untoward influence on the nation.
I find this view borne out in a guarded way in a book recently published
by a prominent colonial official who spent some time in England. He
insists that the lack of patriotism, which one can hardly fail to
observe, is due to the present social system. He declares that the
common people take little interest in national affairs and make no study
of problems confronting the government. They expect the so-called "upper
classes" to do the governing for them; there is no need to concern
themselves over matters that must be settled by a House of Lords in
whose choosing they can have no voice.
The recruits to the nobility now come almost exclusively from the
wealthy class; we often have flung in our faces in England the taunt
that there is an aristocracy of wealth in America, and that the pursuit
of the Almighty Dollar is the all-prevailing passion. It may be just, in
the same general way that I intend these remarks to apply to England,
but we can at least retort that our oil, beef, mining and railway
magnates cannot purchase a title and found a "family," thus becoming in
the public eye a superior class of beings and established as our
hereditary rulers. A wealthy brewer may not become "my lord" for a
consideration, in any event.
A recent American writer makes the curious apology for the House of
Lords as a legislative body that it affords the English people the
services of the most successful moneyed men in framing laws and that the
sons of such men are pretty sure to be practical, well-trained fellows
themselves. He also argues that the families usually die out in a few
generations, thus introducing new blood continually and forming, in his
estimation, a most capable legislative body. The preposterous nature of
such statements can best be shown by trying to apply such a system to
the United States Senate. If our senators, for instance, were hereditary
lords, recruited from the oil, beef, brewing, mining or railway magnates
aforementioned, what might the American people expect from them? We
complain vigorously if any senator is shown to be influenced by such
interests and more than one legislator has found out to his grief that
such a connection will not be tolerated. Suppose we had a system that
put the principals themselves in a permanent legislative body and
invested them with all the glamour of "his grace" or "my lord?" Quite
unthinkable--and yet such is the system in Britain.
And these self-sacrificing hereditary legislators are no fonder of
bearing the real burdens of the country than our own plutocrats are.
There is much complaint in England that in the ranks of the nobility are
to be found the most flagrant tax dodgers in the Kingdom. Nor does this
complaint lack for vigorous utterance--a most hopeful sign of the times,
to my notion. But recently a London paper exploited the case of the
Marquis of Bute, owner of Cardiff Castle--and most of Cardiff, for that
matter--who returned his personal tax at less than a thousand pounds,
and that included Cardiff Castle and grounds, which represent literally
millions! Yet no man in the Kingdom is better able to afford payment of
his just tax than this nobleman. To show the gross injustice of his tax,
a comparison was made of the castle with a humble tailor shop in
Cardiff, ninety by one hundred and twenty feet, which was taxed at a
higher figure! The newspaper in question also declared that this case
was typical of tax-dodging lords all over the country.
That there is a strong under-current against the feudal system cannot be
doubted; we found it everywhere, though at times but half expressed and
again only to be inferred, but it exists none the less. Indeed, more
recent developments have shown the extent of such sentiment in the
overthrow of the veto power of the Lords. This is a great step in
advance, though England would be infinitely the gainer if the feudal
system were abolished and not merely modified. This antagonism does not
extend to royalty--that institution escapes through the popularity of
the present king and queen. But the time may come when a weak and
unpopular king will turn public sentiment against the very keystone of
feudalism and the whole structure is likely to fall. When one recollects
the furore that prevailed in England when the former king as Prince of
Wales was mixed up with the Baccarat scandals, it is easy to see how
much royalty owes its existence to good behavior. At that time doubt was
freely expressed as to whether the prince would ever be king of England,
but he lived it all down by his subsequent good record. I had many
intelligent men admit that "your system of government is right; we shall
come to it some time," or words to that effect, and we heard many
ill-concealed flings at the nobility. "We are all the property of the
nobility," said one intelligent young shopman of whom in the course of
conversation we inquired if he owned his home. "No one has any chance to
own anything or be anything in England." And in a prayer-book at
Stratford Church we found the petition "for the nobility" erased with
heavy pencil lines.
I give these as typical of many similar instances, but I have no space
in this book for discussion of the impressions I record. A volume would
be required should I attempt this. I can only set down these random
notes without elaborate argument. And yet, what could be more convincing
that the social system of England is wrong than the hopelessness we
found everywhere and the refrain that we heard oftener than any other,
"A common man has no chance in England?" If he is not fortunate or a
genius, there is nothing for him. He must either succumb to inevitable
mediocrity and poverty or get away to some new country to gain the
opportunity of competence and social promotion in any degree.
It is to the feudal system that can be charged the astonishing state of
affairs in England that makes a gentleman of a person with no
occupation--a loafer, we would style him in America--and socially
degrades the useful citizen engaged in trade. On this particular phase I
will not pass my own comment, but quote from a book, "Wake Up, England,"
by P. A. Vaile, Premier of New Zealand, lately issued by a London
publisher:
"There is perhaps nothing in English life so disgusting to a man who has
not the scales upon his eyes as the loathsome snobbery of those who
profess to despise a man because his income is derived from a trade or
business. It is wholly inexcusable and contemptible. Trade, instead of
being considered honourable and dignified, is, in the eyes of every
snob, a degradation. Unfortunately, snobs in England are not scarce.
"The tradesman is himself in a great measure to blame for this, for he
accepts humbly as his due the contempt that is meted out to him. Most of
those who so freely despise the poor necessary man of trade, have a
portion of their savings, when they are lucky enough to have any,
invested in some large millinery or pork-butcher's business that has
been floated into a limited liability company--yet to them the man who
earns their dividends is absolutely outside the pale.
"If there is any nation that I know that is hopelessly bourgeois, it is
England. Why can we not be manly enough to recognize the fact, to
acknowledge and freely admit to ourselves that we are a nation of very
commonplace individuals, mostly shopkeepers, that it is the shopkeepers
who have made the nation what she is, and that commerce is an occupation
worthy of any gentleman instead of being a calling which merits the
contempt of the idle, the rich and the foolish?"
If such a condition prevails in England, it can surely be chargeable to
nothing else than a system which places the stamp of superiority on the
idler and puts him in a position where he can assume a patronizing air
towards those who are the backbone and mainstay of the nation.
Hand in hand with outworn feudalism goes the established church, of
which it is really a part and parcel. A state religion of which a none
too religious king may be the head, and whose control may fall into the
hands of politicians who are frequently without the first qualification
of churchmen, is an incongruity at best. If America has proven anything,
she has demonstrated that absolute separation is best for both church
and state; that true religious freedom and amity can best be conserved
by it. But in England the established church is a constant bone of
contention; its supercilious, holier-than-thou attitude toward the other
churches is the cause of much heart-burning and friction. It has the
sanction of the state, the social rank, the great church buildings and
the traditions, and forces other Christian denominations into the
attitude of the poor and rather shabby relation of a wealthy
aristocrat--the wealth in this case not measured merely in money. Class
distinction, the curse of England everywhere, is only fomented by the
attitude of the established church. In religious matters it is not human
nature to concede to anyone else superiority, and not until the Church
of England places itself on common ground with its contemporaries, will
true fraternity among the different denominations be possible in England
as it is rapidly becoming in America. I remember a kindly old gentleman
who showed us much courtesy in the English Boston in pointing out to us
the places of interest, but who did not fall in with our enthusiasm over
the great church.
"Ah, yes," he said. "It once belonged to Rome, who grew arrogant and
oppressive--and fell; it now belongs to a church that is just as
arrogant and would be as much of an oppressor if she dared--and her
downfall is just as sure." And the enthusiasm with which he pointed out
the plain Wesleyan chapel betrayed his own predilections.
That the educational system of England is faulty and inefficient we have
the testimony of many leading English educators themselves. The constant
interference of the Church of England and the Catholics with the public
schools is greatly responsible for the chaos of the educational
situation of the country. Conditions in England are such that a most
excellent public school system might easily be maintained. The density
of population and the perfect roads would make every rural school easily
accessible, and there would be distinct advantages not enjoyed by many
American communities which have far better schools. But church jealousy,
hidebound tradition, and the almost universal inefficiency of English
school-teachers, are obstacles hard to overcome. I cannot discuss so
great a question in the limits of a short chapter, but the testimony of
the most representative English educators may be found in the report of
the commission which visited American schools under the guidance of Mr.
Alfred Mosely.
That England, generally speaking, is better and more efficiently
governed than the United States is no proof that its system is as good
as our own, or that its possibilities equal ours. It is rather due to
the homogeneity of the masses and to a more prevalent respect for law
and authority among the people. Justice is surer and swifter when the
criminal's offense is once proven in the courts; but the many
technicalities and the positive nature of proof required enables a large
number of swindlers and rascals to keep at large. Dead-beats will evade
debts, irresponsible tenants refuse payment of rents for indefinite
periods, and petty swindlers go quite free--all of whom would be given
short shrift in America--simply because it is a dangerous matter to risk
infringing the "rights of the subject" and thus lay oneself liable to
heavy damages should charges fail of proof.
The excellence of the British police system is proverbial; in efficiency
and honesty of administration it has no parallel in America. Bribery and
corruption among policemen are unknown, as Americans sometimes learn to
their grief--illustrated by the instance of a rich New Yorker who
offered a gold coin to an officer who had held up his motor for
speeding. The offender was fined, not only for speeding, but much more
heavily for attempted bribery--as it was justly regarded by the court.
From the hundreds of policemen of whom we made inquiries--often very
stupid, no doubt, to the officer--we never had an answer with the
slightest trace of ill nature or impatience. Frequently the officer gave
us much assistance in a friendly way and information as to places of
interest. The British policeman has no swagger or ostentation about him;
he carries no weapon--not even the club so indispensible in the
States--yet he will control the riotous crowds more effectively than his
American brother; but we should remember that even a riotous English mob
has more respect for law than one on our side. He appears to appreciate
thoroughly the value of his position to him personally and his dignity
as a conserver of law and order, which he represents rather than some
ward politician or saloon-keeper.
And, speaking of saloons--public houses, they call them in Britain--the
drink evil averages worse than in the United States. Three quarters of a
billion dollars go directly every year for spirituous liquors and no
statistics could show the indirect cost in pauperism, suffering and
crime, to say nothing of the deleterious effect on the health of a large
portion of the people. In America liquor in the country hotel is an
exception, constantly becoming rarer; in England it is the universal
rule. Every hotel is quite as much a saloon, in our vernacular, as a
house of entertainment for travelers. Women with children in their arms
frequent the low-grade drink houses and women as bar-maids serve the
liquors. More than once I had to exercise great caution on account of
reeling drunken men on the streets of the smaller towns; but we had only
hearsay for it that in the slums of Liverpool and London one may find
hundreds of women dead drunk. There was much indignation over an
insinuation made in parliament against the character of the bar-maids,
but it is hard to see how many of these women, surrounded by the
influences forced upon them by their vocation, can lead a decent life
for any length of time.
Surely the drink evil in Great Britain and Ireland is a serious one and
deserves far more active measures than are being taken against it. That
sentiment is slowly awakening is shown by the fight made for the
"licensing bill" which proposed a step, though a distant one, towards
repression of the traffic. That the almost world-wide movement against
the liquor business will make headway in England is reasonably certain
and those who have her welfare at heart will earnestly hope that its
progress may be rapid.
But in this connection I wish to emphasize that my observations on the
liquor question in Britain are broadly general; there are millions of
people in the Kingdom to whom they do not apply, and there are whole
sections which should be excepted had I space to particularize. North
Wales, for instance, has a population that for sobriety and general
freedom from the evils of drink will rival any section of similar
population anywhere. The mining towns of Southern Wales, however, are
quite the reverse in this particular.
While Wales is a loyal and patriotic part of the British Empire, there
are many ways in which the people are quite distinct and peculiar as
compared with native Englishmen. Perhaps the most notable point of
difference is consistent opposition to the established church, which has
little support in Wales and has been practically forced upon the Welsh
people by the British government. Only recently a measure for
disestablishment has been entertained in parliament and it is sure to
come sooner or later.
For the people of Northern Wales we came to have the highest respect and
even regard. They were universally kind and courteous and their
solicitude for the stranger within their gates seemed to be more than a
mere desire to get his money. There is no place in the Kingdom where one
may find good accommodations cheaper, barring a half dozen notable
resorts in the height of the season. Added to this, the beauty of the
country and its romantic and historic interest make a combination of
attractions that would long detain one whose time permitted.
The foregoing observations about the Welsh are applicable in a greater
or less degree to many sections of England and to most of rural
Scotland, save that in the latter country hotel expenses will average
higher.
A word on hotels generally may not come amiss from one whose experience
has dealt with several hundreds of them of all classes and degrees, from
the country inn to the pretentious resort hotel. It was our practice to
seek out the best in every case, since we hardly enjoyed hotel life even
under the most favorable conditions; but it was largely saved from
monotony by the traditions which have gathered about almost every
ancient inn in the Kingdom. One would miss much if he did not visit the
old inns such as the Feathers in Ludlow, the Lygon Arms in Broadway, the
Great White Horse in Ipswich, the King's Head in Coventry--but I could
fill pages with names alone; I would as soon think of missing a historic
castle or a cathedral as some of the inns. It is this sentiment that has
led me to give the rather extended individual mention accorded in some
cases.
As a whole, the British hotels are comfortable and well conducted.
Outside of London one will find the menus rather restricted and usually
quite heavy and substantial from an American point of view. Special
dishes are not easily obtained in the country inns and request for them
is not at all enthusiastically received. Eggs and bacon--with the latter
very nearly answering the specification of ham in America--with fish,
usually sole or plaice, and tea or rather bad coffee, is the standard
breakfast. Fruit cannot usually be had even in season without
prearrangement the evening before, and then only at exorbitant prices.
Strawberries, for instance--there are none finer than the English in
season--may be selling for sixpence a quart, but you will pay half a
crown extra for a lesser quantity served with your breakfast. An
assortment of cold meats, usually displayed on the sideboard, forms the
basis for luncheon and the very wise native will go to the sideboard and
select his own portions. There will sometimes be a hot dish of meat;
cabbage and potatoes are the standard vegetables, the latter cooked
without seasoning and generally poor. A lettuce salad and cheese, with
stewed fruit or a tart, as they style a pastry something similar to an
American pie, will complete the meal--at least for one who does not care
for liquid refreshments, which may be had in great variety. Dinner in
the smaller inns is usually served on the table d'hote plan. A very poor
soup, a bit of stale fish--inexcusable in a country surrounded by the
sea; an entree, usually a highly seasoned hotch-potch, or chicken and
bacon--often a vile combination--followed by some heavy, indigestible
"sweet," made the standard evening meal. We finally rebelled against
this and had many a lively tilt with the manageress in our efforts to
get a plain meal of eggs, tea, bread and butter and perhaps a chop. In
some of the resort hotels our demands caused positive consternation and
in more than one case had to be taken up with the proprietor himself.
The difficulty was chiefly due to the disarrangement of the regime; the
table d'hote meal was ready, though often stale and cold, and one waiter
by following the fixed routine could serve a dozen people, while our
simple wants usually disarranged the whole program, both in kitchen and
dining room. It was rare indeed that a mutton chop could be had in the
hotel; some one must be sent to the meat shop for it, and any such
departure from the fixed order of things jarred the nerves of the whole
establishment. It is only fair to state, however, that at some of the
fine inns I have especially mentioned there were notable exceptions to
these generalizations.
The rooms in the country hotel do not average very comfortable; the
furniture is scant; they are poorly lighted--if not with candles, a
single dim electric bulb or gas light serves the purpose; feather beds,
with the odors that these give out in a damp climate, were not uncommon,
though flat rebellion against them would often bring out the fact that
there were others in the house. Bathing facilities were usually poor, a
dirty bathroom or two serving the entire house. Not in a single case did
we find running water in the rooms. But with all its drawbacks, the
British provincial hotel will probably average as good as may be found
in any country, and in motoring one has the option of going on to the
next town if conditions seem too bad to be endured. Rates--to
tourists--in the better class hotels are not low; yet I would not call
them exorbitant as a rule. Two shillings for breakfast, three for
luncheon and four to six for dinner may be given as the average, while
the charge for rooms can hardly be generalized. Five or six dollars per
day per person should cover the hotel expense, including tips.
And, speaking of tips, these aggregate no inconsiderable item; a smaller
individual amount will give satisfaction than in America, but the number
of beneficiaries is so much greater that the total cost is more. Every
servant who does anything for you or who ought to do anything, must have
a fee--porter, boots, chambermaid, waiter, head waiter, stable man,
garage attendant, the man who cleans your car or brings you oil or
petrol; in fact, everyone in the hotel except the proprietor or
manageress expects from sixpence to half a crown for the day, as the
case may be, and it does not pay to withhold it. One subjected to such
exactions cannot but view with great concern the increase of the
practice of tipping in America; should it ever become so prevalent here
at the much higher rate that the American servant requires, traveling
would be prohibitive except for millionaires.
[Illustration: FRANCE AND GERMANY
Outline map showing Author's route on Continent.]
INDEX
A
Abbeville, 7-8, 133.
Abbotsford, 173-177.
Aberdeen, 188-190.
Achaius, King, 217.
Ailsa Craig, 239.
Alfred, King, 348-349.
Alloway, 231-236, 250.
Alsace, 59-60.
Amboise, 32, 33, 35-36.
Amiens, 129-133.
Andover, 299.
Angel Inn, Grantham, 149-150.
Angers, 27-28.
Austen, Jane, 308.
Autun, 52-53.
Avranches, 20-21.
Awe, Loch, 225.
Ayr, 230-231.
B
Baliol, John, 243-245.
Ballachulish, 217-221, 223.
Ballantrae, 240.
Ballater, 188.
Balmoral Castle, 187-188.
Barnes, William, 302-303.
Barnstaple, 348.
Barrhead, 230.
Bartholdi, Frederic, 60.
Basingstoke, 299.
Bassenthwaite Water, 246, 248-249.
Bath, 350-351.
Bayerischer-Hof, Fussen, 66-67.
Bayeux, 16-17.
Beaugency, 40-41.
Beethoven, Ludwig, 97.
Benderloch Station, 221, 223.
Bennane Head, 240.
Ben Nevis, 216, 217, 223.
Berck-sur-Mer, 6-7.
Berry Pomeroy Castle, 311-319.
Bettyhill, 204-205.
Beauly, 209.
Bideford, 347-348.
Bingen, 89-91.
Bishop Auckland, 153-154.
Blairgowrie, 185.
Blandford, 300.
Blois, 32, 36-40.
Bonar Bridge, 194, 208.
Bonn, 97.
Bonsecours, 13-14.
Bootle, 252, 257.
Boppard, 93.
Bornhofen, 93.