The English and French custom-houses are not as difficult to pass as the American, and the examination is generally quite brief. The traveler should get all his pieces together, so as to facilitate the labors of the officials, and if he has anything liable to duty it is best to declare it before any questions are asked. Spirits and tobacco are the things mainly looked for, and, if any are found that have not been declared, they are liable to confiscation. Where the passenger has only a small quantity of luggage it is generally passed without being opened; and if there are several trunks they investigate every second or third one, making the selection themselves. It is well not to have any of your trunks nicely corded and made up for a long journey, as the officers have learned from long experience that such packages are more liable to contain contraband goods than any other, and consequently they are the ones generally chosen to be opened. Landing in America has more formality than landing in England or France. The officers come on board at quarantine, and while the ship is making her way up the harbor the declarations of the passengers are taken. The number and character of each one's packages is marked on a blank, to which is appended an oath to the effect that the passenger has told the truth. He receives a card bearing the number of his declaration, and when he reaches the dock and has his baggage ready for examination, he presents his ticket to the officer in charge; the latter assigns his subordinate who is to conduct the examination, and hands him the declaration that the passenger has made. If the number and character of the packages is found to be correct, and no dutiable goods are discovered that have not been declared, the inspection is over in a few minutes, the officer puts a cabalistic mark on each article, and the passenger may then breathe freely. Sometimes the officials conduct the search with a great deal of rigor, and at others they are not at all particular. There appears to be no regular system about the business, and the officials are lax or vigilant, according to the temper of their chief. A change in the office of collector of customs at New York is followed by a great deal of energy, but nobody can tell how long it will last. On some occasions the inspectors have actually turned the contents of trunks on the dock in order to facilitate their examinations, and a great deal of needless rudeness has been displayed by them. For the information of travelers, the following caution is published:— "All articles such as wearing apparel, not having been worn, must be declared at the custom-house. Travelers not conforming to this regulation will incur not only the confiscation of the articles not declared, but also the payment of a fine. Silks, laces, and other foreign goods, packed with articles of apparel, or otherwise concealed, are, as well as the articles in which they may be placed, liable to seizure; and travelers are warned that the seizure is strictly enforced, unless the examining officer is informed of the articles being in the package, and the goods duly declared before it is opened." Clothing in actual use is admitted free of duty, and those who return home with a supply of new garments should be particular to wear each article at least once, in order to be within the regulations. Ladies are informed that a dress that has simply been "tried on" is considered liable to duty, but if it has actually been worn once or twice, it is admissible. Gloves are exempt from this condition, but the traveler should not expect to import a large quantity. The strict allowance is one dozen pairs, but in most cases three or four dozen may be carried without question. The regulations say that each passenger may bring, free of duty, a fair amount of clothing, according to his condition in life, a statement that has given rise to a great deal of dispute. Half a dozen costly silk dresses of the latest fashion would be manifestly out of place in the baggage of Bridget Maloney in the steerage, and fresh from the bogs of Ireland, while they would be regarded as a moderate allowance for Miss Flora M'Flimsey, whose father is a millionaire. In the continental ports, generally, there is often considerable delay in examining baggage, and the following regulations have been made to facilitate the movements of travelers:— "Passengers, on landing, are not permitted to take more than one small bag with them on shore. The custom-house porters, who are responsible for its safety, convey it direct from the vessel to the custom-house, where the owner, to save personal attendance, had better send the hotel commissionaire afterwards with the keys. The landlord of the inn is responsible for his honesty." Leaving the custom-house behind you, the way is clear to seek a hotel. Generally there are plenty of runners at the landing-place, and if you have chosen the establishment where you are to stop, you have only to name it, and the runner for that house will step forward to take charge of yourself and your belongings. Sometimes the baggage is taken on the cab or carriage which carries you, and at others it is intrusted to licensed porters, who are responsible for its safe delivery, and can be trusted without much hesitation. As far as possible, it is best to keep your baggage always with you when traveling, but there are many instances where it is not convenient to do so. Before you leave the custom-house there are some fees to be paid to the porters who have handled your luggage, but none to the officers who examined it. You will find, too, that the man who puts it on the carriage desires to be remembered, and you discover very early in your travels that you are in the land of fees. If you are in charge of the hotel runner you can let him settle these matters, or, if you prefer to attend to them yourself, you can do so, but you run the risk of giving too much. The runner is not always to be trusted, as he sometimes has a secret arrangement with the porters to compel strangers to bleed freely with the understanding that he is to receive the surplus. For putting the ordinary baggage of a traveler through the custom-house and on the top of a cab, a shilling is sufficient, and if it is handled by two persons they should be satisfied with a sixpence each. It is best to ask the hotel proprietor to settle for your cab rather than attempt it yourself. It is next to impossible to ascertain from a driver how much he is legally entitled to; he either lies about it, or will not give a direct answer. He will "leave it to the gentleman," and the more you persist in knowing, the more he will "leave it to your honor." And finally when you make a venture, and through fear of giving too little give too much, the chances are, five to one, he will declare himself under-paid, and demand more. He promises beforehand to leave it to you, but rarely does, and therein is the aggravating part of the business. The only way to do under such circumstances is to walk off and leave him to shower imprecations on you; if you prefer peace and quietness you will pay what he demands. This payment will be followed by a request for an additional something for drinking your health, and possibly by a hint that the horse is hungry, and a trifle to buy oats would be appreciated by the beast. Don't expect a driver in the United Kingdom to change a coin for you; his pockets may be bulging with shillings and sixpences, but he declares with the most solemn face that he has no change, and possibly insists that you are the first patron he has had for two days. Our copy-books at school generally inform us that the horse is a noble animal. No one will be likely to dispute the statement, as we all have a respect for the horse, and many of us are familiar with incidents that show his excellent character. But, admitting his nobility, it is a little singular that he should be associated with so much that is the reverse of noble, or rather that the great majority of those who associate with him are inclined to rascality. The whole race of hackmen and cabmen, from one end of the world to the other, are distinguished for their swindling tendencies; horse-trading and horse-jockeying are synonyms of cheating, and the race-track is the resort of scoundrels of all grades and kinds. If the traveler is not prepared to accept this proposition before landing in the old world, he will have excellent opportunities to verify it before he has been a month on the eastern side of the Atlantic. In the English hotels the traveler will find many things to remind him that he is not in the United States. Instead of an office with a marble counter, a heavy register, and a clerk gorgeous as to hair and sparkling as to breast-pin, he finds a little window opening into a room only a few feet square, and behind the window a woman. She takes his application for lodging, and as he peers into the nook where she sits he wonders how the New York hotel clerk would get along in such narrow limits. Perhaps he may see a door opening beyond the office into an equally small apartment, where the book-keeper is stationed, and, in many instances, he finds that the accounts are kept by one of the gentler sex. In many hotels not a man is visible about the office, with the possible exception of the porter, and the entire management is in feminine hands. The proprietor is rarely seen, and even the manager, where there is a masculine one, is a personage who is reached with more or less difficulty. At a famous hotel in Ireland, which bears the name of its proprietor, the story goes that a gentleman asked one day if that individual was in. "He's in his private office, sir," was the reply. "Say that I wish to see him a moment," said the gentleman, who was a London merchant of considerable prominence, and well known as a frequent patron of the hotel. The clerk disappeared, and shortly returned with the following message:— "Mr. —— is engaged at present over some papers, and will send his secretary out in a few minutes to see what you want." The American will miss the wide corridors of the hotels of his native land, and he finds the space usually given up to the public in the United States is here reserved for the strict use of the house. There are no broad reading-rooms and parlors, with a plentiful supply of papers from all parts of the country, as in the great hostelries at home; the bar is a dingy nook, scarcely larger than the office, and the most conspicuous ornaments in it are the handles of the beer-pumps. The bartender is absent, and in his place the bar-maid presides; those who are bibulously inclined will find comparatively little to tempt them, as the array of "mixed drinks," so common in an American bar, is practically unknown in England. A few drinking establishments in London have sought to attract the patronage of strangers from the United States by advertising "American drinks," but those who have tried them say that the British concoctions are base counterfeits of the great originals. In some hotels there is no public bar whatever, and drinks are served to order in the dining and smoking-rooms, or in the private apartments. Smoking is usually forbidden in the corridors, and sometimes the stranger who ventures to light a cigar in his private room will be told that he is violating the rules, and must go to the smoking-room. In the last few years the English appear to have taken a hint from their transatlantic cousins in the way of hotel-keeping, and several establishments containing many of the American features have sprung into existence. The most of them have been successful, and it is probable that the crop will increase. Bedrooms in the English hotels are usually larger than in American houses, and furnished on a more liberal scale. The beds are spacious, and frequently you find an old-fashioned four-poster of considerable antiquity, together with others that were fashioned in the present time. A hotel in Liverpool boasts of a bed in which Oliver Cromwell once slept, and certainly he could have occupied it without being cramped for space. Those who are liable to colds and rheumatic pains should be particular to have the sheets well aired and dried before retiring; the moist climate of the British Islands is apt to leave a disagreeable dampness on bed-linen, and make it very detrimental to the general health. Many a man has taken a severe cold by sleeping in damp sheets on his arrival in England, and discovered to his sorrow that his recovery was a thing of several weeks, if not longer. The prevailing moisture of the United Kingdom is an excellent thing for the ruddy cheeks of the women, and beneficial to the potato crop, but the stranger is not usually enamored of it, especially if he comes from a region where dry atmosphere is the fashion. There are only a very few hotels where the traveler is received on the American system, and pays a lump sum per day for everything. The engagement is nearly always for the room alone, and all meals are charged extra, and may be taken wherever the customer chooses. There is an extra item for "attendance," and custom has fixed this at one shilling and sixpence at the majority of the English hotels. Some hotels compel you to breakfast in the house, or at all events they charge you for that meal, whether you take it or not, but the dinner is quite optional with you. The dining-room is generally known as the "coffee-room," but in some hotels there is a larger hall in addition to the coffee-room, where the table d'hote dinner is served. One can breakfast very comfortably in the coffee-room, as he will find the morning papers there, and frequently a stock of guide-books and writing materials, with which he may amuse himself while his chop or steak is being prepared. Chops, steaks, ham and eggs, and cold meats are the principal items of an English breakfast, and there is hardly any variation from day to day. If the dinner is served in the continental style, the traveler has no choice, but takes the courses in the order in which they are brought. A dinner "off the joint" is another thing, and a peculiarly British institution. Soup is served, and then fish, and then comes the joint, which is the piece de resistance of the day. A huge round of beef, smoking hot from the fire, or perhaps an equally huge piece of mutton, is mounted on a small table whose legs terminate in casters; by means of this table the joint is wheeled before each customer, who indicates to the carver the exact morsel he desires. There can be no deception, and no opportunity to serve up slices that have been warmed over from a previously cooked joint. The form of service is quite a novelty to the newly-arrived American, and various opinions have been passed upon its advantages. Some are loud in its praise while others declare that the sight of the steaming joints destroys their appetite. The dinner costs from two shillings, sixpence, to five shillings, and there is an extra charge of threepence or sixpence for attendance, if the customer is not stopping in the hotel, and sometimes when he is. This attendance business is a nuisance, and many a stranger has spoken his mind freely in denouncing it as a well-regulated swindle. The theory is that it pays for the service, but it does nothing of the kind, and every waiter who has done the least thing for you, as well as others who have not lifted a finger in your aid, expects to receive a fee before your departure. Some of the hotels have the impertinence to print on their bill-heads "the service is all included, and nothing more is expected," a falsehood as glaring as any that has ever been told in the history of the world. The stranger who takes them at their word, and leaves the house without distributing sixpences and shillings to the servants, would be looked upon as little less than a downright swindler, and be received with coldness and negligence if he had the temerity to venture there again. The prices of bedrooms vary according to their location and character; they are rarely less than two shillings—with the inevitable attendance—and often as high as five shillings. The following may be taken as a fair average of charges in an English hotel of medium pretensions:
If tea is added to this it will cost not less than one shilling, and generally more. The fees to the servants are not likely to be less than a shilling a day for each person of the party, and it requires careful management to bring them down to that figure. The fees should never be given till the moment of departure, for the reason already mentioned in our talk about steamships. At all hotels in the United Kingdom and on the Continent be sure to have the price of everything distinctly understood at the time the room is taken. Perhaps it is from a consciousness of the dishonesty of the charge for attendance, the manager or other person who assigns your room never mentions that item, and a direct question is needed to bring it out. The following inquiries will cover the ordinary circumstances of arrival at a hotel:— "What is the price of a bedroom?" "What is the charge for attendance?" "How much for dinner?" "How much for breakfast?" "What time must a room be given up?" The last interrogatory is necessary in consequence of the varying rules of the hotels. Most of them have their day, like the nautical one, begin at noon, and a person who remains till one or two P.M. must pay for an extra day of room and attendance. Some hotels begin their day at 11 A.M., and some as early as 10; it is a noticeable fact that in several of these latter instances important trains leave a couple of hours after the termination of the diurnal reckoning. The traveler who holds his room till it is time to go to the train finds to his astonishment that the last hour of his occupation has cost him the same as an entire day. But the hotel keepers have a living to make, and must keep an eye to the main chance. Guides for the city or neighborhood can be had at all hotels, and are preferable to those picked up the street. Carriages and cabs can also be ordered at the hotel, but if the traveler can trust himself to make a bargain it is better to secure them outside, since the house not infrequently adds a commission for its services. Besides it is well to learn as much as possible of the people you are among, and there are no more sharply-defined characters in the world than the professional drivers of Irish, Scotch, or English cities. |