Part 3

Times are altered, and although I will not even now take it upon me to affirm that the English women are as graceful, or as sylph-like, in a ballroom, as our own, they contrive, however, by the aid of their sweet faces, to render their quadrilles very attractive. Since the _pêle mêle_ of society has put an end to the public entertainments of our own large towns, we labour under the disadvantage of being obliged to use rooms so small that there is little space for graceful motion; an evil that is fast undermining our renown, in this particular, by introducing a slovenly and careless movement. You must look to it, or the English will come to be your equals in this accomplishment.

I have been led into these profound reflections, in consequence of having made my own appearance at some eight or ten of the balls of London, not, however, as an actor, but in the more sober character of an observer. It is my intention to endeavour to enliven your solitude near the setting sun, by rendering some account of what I have seen. My first appearance, at a premeditated evening party, did not happen to be at a ball, but at one of the receptions of a bachelor, who, in virtue of his great wealth, high rank, spacious house, and, for any thing I can say to the contrary, personal qualities, is, I believe, quite generally admitted to collect the very social _élite_ of London. As there have been some very silly tales told, among our friends, in reference to my introduction to this gentleman, or rather to his house, for to _him_ I never spoke, you will pardon a few personal details, if I tell you the truth, by way of preface.

You are to know, that, under the English system of exclusion, and owing to the silliness of man, to say nothing of the certain quality in the ladies, heaven and earth are sometimes moved, in order to obtain access to particular houses. As it may be well to understand each other on the subject of terms, let me explain what is meant here by exclusion. English exclusion is a wheel within a wheel; it is a capricious and arbitrary selection independently often of rank, fortune, birth, accomplishments, learning, or any thing else beyond mere fashion. It probably can no more be accounted for, than the dog, who did not eat hay himself, nor could give a substantial reason why he refused to let the ox have it. It is a sheer and natural consequence of the wantonness that is engendered by extreme luxury and a highly factitious state of things. We make a great mistake in America, in this matter, by blending the selection of society that are connected with education, similarity of habits and modes of living, unison of opinions, tastes, and breeding, with the arbitrary exclusion that is founded on nothing better than the whim I have just mentioned. One is natural, the other forced; one is necessary to the well ordering of society, and to the preservation of manners and tastes, the other is an effort to supplant the useful by the capricious; one is indispensable to all that is respectable in the sense connected with station, and is the only means by which grace can be cultivated, or refinement produced, while the other is inherently and irretrievably vulgar. Wherever civilization exists, society will be separated by castes, for it is not desirable to reduce all to the same level of deportment, tastes, and intelligence, nor possible without making a sacrifice of that which is most estimable. All that liberty assures us, is an entire equality of rights, and there would be little of this in a community, in which the cultivated and elegant were compelled to sacrifice their feelings by an unlimited association with the ignorant and coarse. The common sense of mankind, every where, silently admits this, and they who cry out loudest against it, are men who usually are unyielding to those beneath them, and declaimers for social equality only as respects their betters. They do not understand the reasons of their own exclusion, for they cannot comprehend points of breeding they have never been taught, tastes they have never cultivated, language they have never heard, and sentiments they have never felt. Happily these social divisions are inevitable, but the extreme exclusion of the English, is a diseased excrescence; a sort of proud flesh, that has shot up in a moral atmosphere, in which these natural causes have been stimulated into unnatural action, by the uncalled for aid of artificial stimulants and calculated adjuncts.

I cannot tell you _why_ the house of the Duke of —— is considered the very centre of exclusion, in the sense last named, at London; but I believe such to be the fact. After a few general admissions in favour of colour, texture, and workmanship, one would be puzzled to say why your sex decided on the fashion of the hat at the last exhibition of _Longs Champs_. The Duke of —— is neither the oldest, the richest, the handsomest, the youngest, nor yet the most illustrious man in London, by a great many, and still, in a sense connected with extreme _haut ton_, he is, perhaps, the one most in request. He is the most _fashionable_, and that, until the _mode_ shall be changed, is all that it is necessary to establish, to make out my case. Mr. —— mentioned, in conversation, that the master of this enviable establishment, had expressed a desire that he would invite me to be among the guests on his next evening. “He would have sent his card, but I told him you would not stand on the ceremony,” added my friend. It is always so much better that one should conform to the usages that custom and delicacy prescribe, and this the more especially when circumstances may render others doubtful of their reception, that I thought he had much better not have told him any such thing. A card would have removed every obstacle, and, as I was on easy terms with the negotiator, I believe I laughingly intimated as much. All that was said on the occasion, was said in three minutes, and amounted to a delivery of the request, the explanation I have mentioned, and my laughing comment. The next day I dined with two Americans, both of whom have long been resident here, and the conversation happening to turn on visits, I inquired whether there was any exemption in the case of a peer, about making the first visit in England, or, in short, whether our own usage, or that of the continent prevailed. I then mentioned the equivocal sort of invitation I had to —— house. They both assured me, I had not received the proper attention, and that I was not bound to notice it, any further than had been done, by a simple acknowledgment of the civility of the messenger. One might go, or not, on such an invitation. In Paris it would have been my duty to leave a card, in such a case, and on its being returned, I might have gone with propriety. Under the circumstances, I determined to let things take their course; or if Mr. —— said any thing more about it, to go on his account; if not, to stay away on my own. When the evening arrived, however, Sir James Macintosh very kindly sent a note, to say _he_ would be my companion, and I I had nothing to do but to express my acknowledgments and readiness to accompany him; for while I cared very little about —— house, and exclusion, I did care a good deal about receiving such an attention from Sir James Macintosh.

I have said more concerning this silly affair than it deserves, but, having related the simple facts, it may be well not to throw away the moral. So much deference is paid here to rank, the cravings of the untitled to be noticed by the titled are so strong, and America is deemed so little worthy of taking place with any thing, that I am not surprised that the truth, even in this case, should excite comment among the English. But what are we to say and think of our own manly, and “much beloved country,” which, instead of supporting one of its citizens in maintaining what was due not only to himself, but to his nation, helps to confirm its present unseemly position, by decrying what would have been no more than an act of gentlemanly propriety and dignity, had it occurred, and which never having occurred at all, lends itself to the circulation of the falsehoods, that the malignant feelings of a set, in which even the name of America is hated, have seen proper to set in motion!

The American who comes to this country, and, forgetful of self-respect, of national pride, of the usages of society even, becomes the toad-eater of the great, is represented as a gentleman, as a man of sentiment, and of delicate feelings! The crumbs of flattery that are thrown out to him, to lead him on, and render him ridiculous, that the people to whom he belongs may be held up to ridicule through him, are reported at home, with high sounding exaggerations in his favour, while he who would simply maintain that an American gentleman is entitled to be treated like any other gentleman, is rendered liable to exaggerations just the other way. After all, unhappily, there is no more in this, than has marked our career from the commencement. The American who gets the good word of England is sure of having that of his own country, and he who is abused by England will be certain of being abused at home. I doubt if the history of the United States shows an instance to the contrary, except in cases connected with the party politics of the day, and much of the time, not even in them. It is not possible for one living at home, fully to comprehend the extent of the malignancy, or the nature of the falsehoods that are industriously circulated here, at the expense of the country and its citizens, and so far from leaning to credulity, when any thing of this nature reaches his own side of the Atlantic, not only does his character for sagacity require him to receive it with caution, but even his _safety_. If the craven and dependent feeling which exists so strongly in what are called the better classes of America, on the subject of Great Britain, existed in the body of the nation, our political union, or political independence, in my opinion, would not be worth ten years’ purchase.

I went to the lodgings of Sir James Macintosh, in Clarges Street, where we boldly entered a _hackney coach_, together, and drove triumphantly up to the very door of —— house. I was quite passive in this daring act, however, and I throw the whole responsibility on the shoulders of my learned companion. We found the entrance thronged with footmen, and carriages were constantly arriving.

—— house has one of those ill-contrived entrances, by a flight of exterior steps, which can never be used in bad weather, and which ought never to be used by your sex, at all. To obviate this difficulty, there is a more private entrance, through the basement, by which we were admitted. Here we found, in a sort of semi-subterraneous ante-chamber, ladies uncloaking, amid some fifty lackies. The room was in truth, above ground, but it strongly reminded me of the apartment beneath the rotunda of the capitol; that which is called the _caucus_. A footman took our names, and we were announced by a line of servants spread through the passages and on the stairs. I believe there were four repetitions, all in good audible voices.

As the groom of the chambers, who stands at the door of the first reception-room, does not announce until you arrive, this mode at least has the merit of letting you know what is about to be said of you, and it affords an opportunity of correcting mistakes. On reaching this personage, he preceded us through one room to the door of a second, where he announced us, in the usual manner. There may be a little more style in this method of sending up names, but it is not easy to see its use, (unless you admit the one already named) especially if there be a convenient ante-chamber to uncloak in. Both the ante-chamber, and the stairs of —— house, used to-night, were unworthy of the rest of the exhibition. The latter, in particular, were almost as narrow and mean as a New York flight.

Lord N——, one of the men of fashion and taste here, told me, in speaking of your sex in England, that he fancied he could see a difference between the women one meets with in and about Grosvenor Square, and the women who frequent —— house. He gave a decided preference to the latter. When you remember that Grosvenor Square is inhabited by some of the highest nobles of England, and that it is one of the distinguished quarters of the town, you will at once perceive how subtle are the lines drawn by a fastidious taste, or, at least, by a fancy, that is overshadowed by fashion.

We found some two or three hundred of the _élite_ of the town, collected on this occasion. The master of the house was not present, and we were received by a sister Lady, who excused his absence by telling us he was indisposed. After this ceremony, we were permitted to stroll through the rooms and to look about us. I was introduced to a dozen people, among whom were M. Palmella, the Portuguese ambassador, and Sir James Scarlett. The former was a short, compactly-built, man, like most of his countrymen, while the latter, whom I had figured to myself, on account of the odious wigs of Westminster Hall, as a staid old gentleman, with a greasy face and a red nose, was a handsome, genteel, well-formed, and well-dressed man of fashion. When I mentioned my surprise to ——, he humourously remarked: “Yes, yes; he is good-looking, and all that, but he is an impudent dog in the house; most of the lawyers are impudent dogs in the house.” It is impudence, you will understand, for a new man to let it be seen he knows more than your hereditary legislator.

I cannot say that I was as much struck with the peculiar advantages of the ladies over the rest of their sex, as was the case with my Lord N——. There were many pretty, and a few beautiful, women present, but nothing of a very extraordinary nature. The Princess Lieven, who is a mirror of fashion, was among them. She looked more like an American woman, than most of the others.

I was a little amused with two or three whom I knew, and who evidently watched my manner, with the idea of detecting provincial surprise at the splendour and beauty by which I was environed. The expectation was too obvious to be mistaken. As respects the magnificence, it was certainly a great deal beyond any thing we have, and as certainly as much below a great deal I had seen on the continent. As an American, perhaps, I ought to have been astonished, though certainly not as a traveller.

The house was spacious, without being remarkably so; the furniture and fixtures were comfortable and heavy, rather than tasteful and rich; and the whole entertainment, the mean approach excepted, was as much respectable as magnificent. As for the company, I saw nothing unusual in its appearance. There may have been certain conventional signals and forms that rendered it peculiarly agreeable to those who were in the secret; but, judging it by those general laws that are supposed to regulate the intercourse of the refined and polished, it struck me as being _tant soit peu_ below the tone of one or two _salons_ I have entered in Paris. Of course, there was no vulgarity, no noise, and a good deal of ease, and much good sense; but there was a slightly apparent self-felicitation and enjoyment, in a good many, that a little too plainly betrayed a consciousness that they were in —— house.

I was a little annoyed by the curiosity to see how an American would be struck with the wonders, and may have attributed this feeling to some who did not entertain it; but still I should say, that while there was possibly less acting on the score of personal vanity and from individual motives, than there would have been among the same number of French people of rank, there was a good deal more of it, from the exultation of belonging to a set so particularly exclusive.

There was present a young Duke of ——, with his wife on his arm; a lady old enough to be his mother. She was a dark Spanish-looking woman, well preserved, and with the remains of great beauty. I thought the faces of your sex less English than common, a circumstance which may have been owing, however, to the _coiffures_, which were generally French. The _toilettes_ were rich and handsome, of course; but it is a fact, I think, beyond cavil, that the women of London do not dress as well as their fair rivals, on the other side of the channel; and I can only account for it, by the English lady’s maid wanting the tact and taste of her French competitor; for, half the time, the peculiarity is observable at Paris, even, where both parties have access to the same _artistes_.

I went away early, and alone, the latter circumstance occasioning a mistake almost as ludicrous as that which accompanied the well-known Philadelphia experiment in announcing. There is a woman of fashion, here, a Countess ——, whose husband’s title is the same as his name, which is the same as our own in sound, though not in spelling. The latter having been varied by one of those caprices that have converted St. Maur into Seymour, and, according to Sir William of that Ilk, Pepin into Draper. I gave my name to the groom of the chambers, on leaving the rooms, and at my request, he called for Mr. ——’s servant, for I had ordered little Smith to be in waiting with a cloak, intending to walk home, the distance being trifling. The first servant on the stairs, however, accustomed to the title of my fair namesake, and aware that she was in the rooms, called out, in a loud voice, for “Lady ——’s people.” This cry preceded me, and when I reached the _caucus_, I found two powdered and liveried lackies ready to cover me with shawls and cloaks! I declined their good offices, but begged one of them to call Mr. ——’s man. The little fellow made his appearance, amid the sneers and laughter of his taller peers, who seemed to regard his powdered poll, and lack of inches, much as the peacocks regarded the finery of the daw.

I went one evening lately, to three balls, a mode of comparing sets, that I have always found useful in getting accurate notions of the ways of the world. As a brief account of what I saw, may not only amuse you, but serve to give you an idea of how these things are managed here, it shall not be withheld.

The first visit was to a rich merchant, who had risen in the world by his own enterprise, and who had finally come to keep what might be called a pretty good house. The style of building was much the same as that which prevailed in New York among genteel people, some thirty years since, with the exception that there was no stoup. The drawing-rooms were up one flight of steps, that in front occupying the whole width of the building. This is a fashion almost as general here, with the exception of the great houses, as the two rooms and folding doors, at home.

The mistress of this house was nervous, fidgety, and uneasy lest every thing should be not quite as elegant as she desired. I had not been in the room five minutes, before she whispered to me her great sorrow that the _Honourable_ Mrs. Somebody had not been able to come, on account of some distressing event; this being positively the first time, in my life, I had ever heard of the honourable personage. There is a class here, that make almost as much use of this word, as the editors who come from New England. The company was exactly what you would suppose it to be when the presence or absence of an _honourable_ Mrs. Somebody was a matter of moment.

From this house I went to another, in the neighbourhood, for the mercantile people, who aim at fashion, now live altogether at the west end, where I found very much the same sort of dwelling, but very different company. The mistress of this house, was an American, married to an Englishman of a good estate, and of respectable standing. Here I met with honourables and right honourables, enough; no one appearing to care any thing about them. I should absolutely have nothing to say concerning this ball, which was just like any other ball in a respectable house, did I not feel bound to add that I was much struck with the beauty of the young women, the neatness of their attire, and the accuracy and lady-like manner of their dancing. The quadrilles did not equal those of the Russian embassy, at Paris, already mentioned, it is true; for there was neither the numbers, nor the space, and possibly not the instruction necessary to produce an exhibition of this nature, equal to what one sees in Paris; but they were very graceful, and, what may appear to you as heterodox, quite equal in beauty to what one sees in New York or Washington.

I was looking at the dancers, when an English acquaintance observed, that he had lately met with a young American at a ball, and “really he could not see that she did not dance quite as well as the English girls about her.” You will judge of the effect this produced on me, when I tell you, it was said, just as I had silently come to the conclusion that the English girls had, at last, learned to dance _nearly_, if not absolutely as well, as our own!