Walks and talks of an American farmer in England (Part 2 of 2)

THE QUEEN’S YACHT.—YACHTS OF THE R. Y. CLUB, THEIR BUILD AND RIG.—COMPARISON WITH AMERICAN YACHTS AND PILOT-BOATS.—SEAMANSHIP.—CUT OF SAILS.—THE NAVY-YARD AT PORTSMOUTH.—GUN-BOATS.—STEAMERS.—NAVAL FORCE OF GREAT BRITAIN.—EVENING AT PORTSEA.—CURIOSITY.—ABOUT BOASTING AND SOME ENGLISH CHARACTERISTICS.—CONVERSATION WITH A SHOPKEEPER ON “THE GLORY OF ENGLAND.”

In crossing the Solent, on our return to Portsmouth, we saw the Queen’s yacht, and passed through a squadron of the Royal Yacht-Club yachts. The former was a large, heavily-hampered, brig-rigged steamer, with great plate-glass ports, and a large oak-coloured house on deck, less seaman-like in appearance and more in the American style than most English steam-vessels. The yachts were as sweet craft as I can imagine, most of them over two hundred tons in burden and schooner-rigged; but, whether one or two-masted, spreading more canvas for the length of their hulls than I ever saw before. They were all painted black, and their ornaments and deck-arrangements struck me as being more simple, snug, and seaman-like than those of most of our Union Clubs’ yachts. The reverse is the case aloft. My guess was that they would be more than a match for any thing on our side in light winds, but that in bad weather, particularly if working to windward, they would do nothing against a New York pilot-boat. Like all the English small craft, when going before the wind, the cutters and schooners always hauled up the tack of the mainsail that the wind might draw under it to fill the foresail and jib. Another reason given for it is, that the wind, drawing downward from the belly of the sail, tends to make the vessel bury, and by lifting the tack she is made more buoyant. It is never done in America.

My opinion is, that the superior sailing of the “America,” in the great matches of 1851, was more owing to her peculiarities of rig, the cut and material of her sails, and to seamanship, than to the model of her hull. I have no doubt we can still build and rig a vessel that will be her superior. While the English stick to flax canvas, long gaffs, heavy topsails, and graceful curves, I do not think there is any danger that they will. When the Englishman is close-hauled with his boom as near amidships as he can get it, his long gaff will swing off so far that there must always be a considerable part of his canvas in the peak that actually retards more than it assists him. The Englishman thinks much of beauty of form in his sails, but his standard of beauty is arbitrary—a fashion. To my eye, without regard to the primary beauty of utility, the simplicity of the cut of our sails is much more agreeable.

On the deck of the flag-schooner, which we ran very near to, we saw the commodore of the Club, (an Earl,) a gray-haired old gentleman, who sat in an arm-chair, reading from a newspaper to some ladies.

On reaching Portsmouth we took a boat to visit the navy-yard, within the walls of which, being foreigners, not having a pass, we could not enter. Our boatmen told us that if we chose to enter we should not be challenged, as no one would suspect us as being other than Englishmen, and that the prohibition was a silly old form that prevented no one from seeing the yard that wished to enough to lie for it.

The number of vessels (of the navy) in port was much less than I had anticipated seeing, and most of these were hulks, or advance ships, (with guns and water-tanks on board.) Those we went on board of, (one of them ready for sea,) seemed to me, compared with ours of the same class, inferior in all respects, except it might be in some novelties in their rigging, of the efficiency of which I could not judge. The extent to which wire-rigging was employed in some of them surprised me. We saw four gun-boats, (large barges with a swivel-gun in the bow,) manned by the workmen of the yard, whose awkward evolutions were very amusing. The landsmen working in the yard are divided into two squads, one of which, alternately with the other, is drilled in the Jefferson plan of harbour defence two evenings in each week. They are dressed in a simple uniform, and armed as boarders.

There were more steamers in the harbour than in all our navy.

The present naval force of Great Britain, by official returns, consists of 671 ships of war, either in ordinary or in commission, varying from 2 to 120 guns each; of this number 187 are armed steamers. This fleet, the largest of any maritime power on the globe, employs in time of peace, 35,000 to 40,000 able-bodied seamen, 2000 strong lads, and 13,000 royal marines, consisting of 102 companies, divided into four divisions.

The American navy consists of 70 vessels, large and small, of which 8 are sea-steamers.

The army of Great Britain, exclusive of the East India Company’s troops, and several native colonial regiments, numbers 135,000 men; about 80,000 of these are considered available for home-service, the remainder being required for the defence of the colonies.

The regular army of the United States consists of 10,300 men. The militia force is returned as over 2,000,000.

In the evening we called at the old lady’s in Portsea, and received from Susan some clothes, which she had undertaken to get washed for us, and a watch which my brother had left in his bedroom. The kind old woman received us cordially, apologized again for the prudence which had led her to lock us in, and introduced us to some friends. Of their simplicity and curiosity, as shown in their questioning of us, I might, if I chose to report our conversations, give as amusing a picture as English travellers enjoy to do, of that of those they meet in American boarding-houses. Of fidgetty anxiety lest we should not discover that every body and every thing in the country is most astonishing and wonderfully superior to any body and any thing every where else in the world, which so distresses visitors to the United States, I must confess that we have seen but little in England. With the poorer class of Englishmen, patriotism seems to have been starved out. If they ever speak of their country’s greatness and prosperity, it is as a servant speaks of his master’s wealth; they would see it become a dependency of France or Russia with entire indifference, certainly with exultation if it were promised them that wages should be higher and bread cheaper for it. Again, the Radicals and men of earnest religious faith, with the strongest affection to their country, are in the habit of looking much at what is wrong and shameful in her institutions and qualities, and of comparing them with what is better in other lands. There has always been a great many—now almost enough to be looked upon as a party—that have a strong admiration for our country, and who even glory in all our glory as their own.

Cultivated and large-minded people of all classes, of course, in England as every where else, rise above prejudice and vanity, and think and speak fairly and frankly equally of their own or foreign states; of such eminently we recognise the Earl of Carlisle and Sir Charles Lyell, and of such are, I believe, a great number of the higher rank of commercial men. The traditional self-complacency of an Englishman, as an Englishman, is more often to be detected, at the present day, by some unnecessary pains he will take to point out to you deficiencies and defects of a trivial character in the article or institution or custom you are considering, he having entire confidence that in contrast with that of any other country it will but be exalted by any such faint disparagement of it as is possible. Among the lower class in towns, or in the country those who have been servants, or in some way connected with or dependent on wealthy old families, there is sometimes to be found the most ludicrously absurd old Tory ideas and prejudices, quite in character with the John Bull of the old farce; but the best specimens of it that I have seen were among the smaller sort of shopkeepers, particularly those who advertised themselves to be under the patronage of some noble lady. I remember one that we encountered, soon after we resumed our walks in England after we had been on the Continent, that amused us very much—a little, fat, florid, bald-headed John Gilpin of a man. He was wrapping the article we had purchased in a paper, and, while we waited, asked,

“Travellers, gentlemen?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On foot, it appears?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Travelled far, so might I ask?”

“Oh, yes—a number of hundred miles.”

“Indeed—you must have seen a good bit of old England.... Ever was on the Continent, gentlemen?”

“Yes.”

“In France, it might be?”

“Yes.”

“Any where else but France?”

“Yes—in Holland, Germany, and Belgium.”

“Ah!... Gentlemen, I should like to ask you now, if I might be so bold, I should like to ask you a question, just one question. I haven’t been myself, you see, to France nor to Holland nor to those other countries, but I have read of them, and according to the best sources of information I could reach, I have informed my mind about them and formed my own independent opinion, you see, in which I may be right, of course, and I may be wrong, but I think I’m right. And I have had a coming in here a many of travelling gentlemen like you, that had seen all those foreign countries, and had also in course seen England,—which is advantageous. Well, I always asks these gentlemen one question when they does me the honour, and they have always been so good as to answer me with the very same identical, and now I should be pleased to ask you the same question, if I may be so bold. Though, to be sure, I can imagine what you’ll answer, but then to confirm the independent, which I had arrived at from my own, you see, and for edification,—thank you. Now then, gentlemen—(John, you can discontinue a moment.)”

He laid the parcel on the counter, and, holding it firmly with his left hand, continued to tap it lightly with the fore-finger of the other, looking at us as if our lives depended upon our answering truthfully.

“So it appears, gentlemen, (if I might be so bold,) that you have wandered far and near over the face of the inhabited world, and have seen many foreign parts and lands, and cast your lot among other peoples and nations, that all thought as their inheritances was very fine, doubtless: but now, gentlemen! can you say on candid reflection—now have you ever seen any where’s else, for instance, any castle as was comparable compared to Winsor Castle?”

“No, sir.”

“Or any park like unto Winsor Park—that is, in foreign parts?”

“No, sir.”

“Nor any country of them all, what, on the whole, take her altogether, taking her castles and parks, also her towns and her rail’ays and station-houses, her forests and her manufactures, and her coal and iron; her church and her constitution, her people and her horses, and such like—did you ever, in all your wanderings—taking her altogether so—did you ever now, gentlemen—I want to know—ever see any place exactly like your own country after all?”

“No, indeed, sir.”

“‘No, indeed, sir!’ I know you didn’t—you hear that? ‘No, indeed, sir’—and so say you all, gentlemen? and so say you all. Well, then, I am satisfied, and much obliged to you, gentlemen. There isn’t none of the foreign principalities that is like this blessed land; and that’s what I am always telling them, and only goes to confirm the independent conviction which I had previously arrived to of my own preliminaries. Thank you, gentlemen;” (handing us the parcel;) “good-morning. I wish you a pleasant continuance of your promenade in our glorious old land.”