LETTER XXIX. TO CAPTAIN B. COOPER, U. S. NAVY.

Having a long-standing engagement to be in Amsterdam, early in June, we have been compelled to quit London, before the termination of the season. I could have wished to remain longer, but the force of things has moved heavier bodies.

Quitting England is, by no means, as easy a matter for a foreigner, as quitting almost any other European state. I was obliged to go first to the alien office, which is near Westminster Hall, and then proceed to the custom-house, a distance of several miles, in order to get the required permission. If all these forms are necessary, (and I shall not take it on myself to say they are not) it would save trouble could every thing be done in the same office, or, at least, in the same building.

My labours in obtaining the permit to embark, and in taking a passage, have taught me a secret in relation to the advantage we possess over the English in sailing ships. The excess of men causes all occupations to be crowded, and as each employé must have a livelihood out of his employment, he becomes a charge on the business. If an Englishman could live on a bit of garlic and a few chesnuts, this would not be of so much moment; but he is a beef-eating and a beer-drinking animal, and likes to be neat in his attire, and the trade is compelled to pay a pretty good price for his support. Thus when I went on board the steamboat to take the necessary passage, I was compelled to return to the shore, and walk, at least, half a mile to an office to effect my purpose. The person to whom I was referred, received me civilly, but after making his bow, he put his hands in his pockets, and ordered two or three clerks to receive my money, enter my name, and do the other necessary things. In America the captain would do all this himself, and would find no time to put his hands in his breeches pockets.

You can form no notion, of the intrigues and frauds that are practised, in these old countries, in the struggles for a subsistence. Few people of any condition have much direct communication with their tradesmen, and the buying, as a matter of course, falls into the hands of servants. A certain per centum is given the buyer, which the seller adds to the price. This is another reason why the servant is a personage of more importance in Europe than with us, for his master’s custom usually depends on his patronage. A case of this sort has occurred under my own immediate observation. The proprietor of one of the most celebrated vineyards of France, certain that a vast deal of spurious wine was sold under the name of his vintages, determined to make an effort to bring the pure liquor into proper notice, a difficult achievement, by the way, as the palate once set to even a vicious taste, is as little likely to relish perfection, as any thing else. My acquaintance determined to get his wine introduced to the table of the king, at once, as a certain means of making it known. I dare say, now, you will think he had nothing to do, but to request some purveyor to consent to let the liquor be put before his majesty, and to await the issue. So far from taking this simple course, however, he was advised to make interest with a lady of rank, in order to induce her to persuade a connexion of her own, who was one of the most distinguished men of the age, and had great favour with the king, to present the latter with a case of the wine, and this, too, in a way that might insure its reaching the royal mouth. I cannot say whether the experiment failed or succeeded, but I believe it failed, and most probably through the intrigues of those interested.

In America we have not yet reached this pass, although a glorious beginning has commenced in the commercial towns, which, in their way, are probably as corrupt as any in the world. I have seen abundant proof of a disposition in the trading part of our community, abroad, to combine and conspire to attain their ends, without regard to truth, principles, or justice, and I presume we are to go the way of all flesh in this, as in other respects.

I have not mentioned the subject, because I believe England more obnoxious to this charge of management than other European countries, for probably there is less of it here than elsewhere; certainly much less than in France; but it naturally suggested itself when I came to speak of the number of subordinates that are employed in all matters of business.

Our little preparations were soon made, and, on the appointed day, we went on board the vessel, which was lying off the custom-house. As we all stood on deck, just as the boat was about to proceed, the master came round to ask the foreigners for their permits to quit the country. “You have no need of one,” he observed to me, in passing. “I have one, notwithstanding.” The man stared, and asked an explanation with his eyes. I told him I was a foreigner; an American. “I have been in America,” he said, “but we hardly look on your countrymen as foreigners.” There was more of the feeling which prevails in America towards England in these words and in this man’s manner, than I had ever before witnessed in England. He proved to be a mild decent man, and well disposed to introduce some of our improvements into his boat.

We had a party of cocknies on board, who went as far as Gravesend for the fun of the thing. Great hilarity prevailed under the excitement of the usual condiments of bread, cheese and porter, and we were not sorry to be quit of them.

The weather was fine, and the North Sea as smooth as a dish. The whole night were we paddling through it, and the next morning I looked out, in vain, for any signs of land. Our boat was a solid, good vessel, but slow of foot. The construction necessary to weathering a heavy sea, may cause these boats to make less way than our own steamers, though those which go round Point Judith and through the Sound have also need of some of the same qualities. As between them, I think the American boats usually go three feet to the English’s two.

At length a low spit of sand hove in sight ahead, with here and there a tree or a church tower, that appeared to rise out of the water. This was Holland, a country, that, in the language of seamen, may be said to be awash. As we drew in nearer with the land, the villages and towers were actually made as one makes the upper sails of a ship before the hull. When fairly between the islands, by going up a few rattlins in the rigging, I got a glimpse of meadows that lay beneath the level of tide, from whose inroads they were protected by embankments. The whole country reminded me of a ship with its dead lights in.

I saw a wagon rattling along a causeway, and it was a fac simile of the wagons that go under the name of Dutch wagons in New York, even to the curvature of the side boards. The only difference I could perceive was in the fact that this had no tongue! The country is so level, that holding back is unnecessary, and a short crooked tiller, that is worked by the foot of the teamster answers the purpose of guiding the vehicle. This was Dutch economy, with a vengeance, for the difference in cost could not exceed a guilder, and the difference in security, time and comfort, must be worth twenty. You will easily understand, that when it becomes necessary to stop one of these crafts, sail must be shortened in season, or the momentum would send the whole on the heels of the horses.

Presently, we got a sight of the steeples of Rotterdam, which were well relieved by trees. The verdure was oppressive, for the landscape resembled one seen through a bit of green glass. The boat was soon along side of the Boom Key, and we were all marched off in a body to have our trunks examined. Mine were merely opened and closed again. The passport was glanced at, and we were dismissed to a hotel. Before we entered the latter I had time to look about me, and to see a hundred things that recalled Albany and New York as they appeared in their palmy Dutch condition.

Here, then, we take our leave of England for a time;—England, a country that I could fain like, but whose prejudices and national antipathies throw a chill over all my affections; a country that unquestionably stands at the head of civilization in a thousand things, but which singularly exemplifies a truth that we all acknowledge, or how much easier it is to possess great and useful, and even noble qualities, than it is to display those that are attractive and winning—a country that all respect, but few love.

THE END.