AMERICAN INVASION OF ENGLAND.

Dunstan Times, Issue 3334, 16 August 1926, Page 7

AMERICAN INVASION OF ENGLAND.

-INSPIRING A FRIENDLY PEEL ING. (By Sir Philip Gibbs.) The American invasion of London has been late in arriving this year, owing to tho general strike. Many Americans stopped off at Cherbourg, mstoad of coming to Southampton, but they are streaming into England now after Paris, Home, and Venice. To most Londoners they are now part of tho pageant of life of our London season, coming with the promise of summer still un-ulfiliecl. Crowds watch them with mingled amusement and envy as they start forth in motor coaches to places like Hampton Court, the Tower of London, Windsor Castle, and other historic places to which the average Londoner seldom goes because they arc always there. Outside of the banks in Pall Mali passers-oy glance for a moment at elegant little woman with encarraiueri ups, high-stepping from taxicabs to change another wad of dollars into English pounds which disappear between Bond Street and Oxford Circus. Elderly Americans, instantly recognised, are seen in every picture palace —the prosperous American business man, the benevolent father with expensive daughters, the genial old gentleman who gives his blessing to American lovers after their naughty escapades—are seen in earnest conversation with policemen at busy crossings. With one white-gloved hand outstreclied to hold up the tide of traffic, tho London Bobby gives the tost of his knowledge to these America a visitors. He knows his reputation is very high in the United States. He lias had very flattering comments about his good nature, intelligence and civic virtues. Blandly, and politely, be holds up a lino of throbbing omnibuses while American tourists ask the nearest way to Buckingham Palace and Trafalgar Square In the National Gallery to-day there were none but Americans earnestly studying priceless treasures of art by oldi masters which London citizens have never seen and never want to see, though they like to know they are there. Some of these American women seemed to me rather tired of the picture galleries, although still resolute in quest of culture. “Very beautiful, Pm sure,” said one standing opposite Murillo’s Virgin and Child, “but I’m getting rather mixed up with all these Madonnas,” I sympathised with her. guessing she had probably done all the galleries of Florence and Rome. An American boy, rather bored with the whole show, brightened up opposite Holbein’s portrait of Henry the Eighth. “That’s the guy who had so many wives,” he announced to his sister with the air of superior knowledge. “Chopped their head's off when he got tired of ’em.”

“Not a nice man, 1 should say,” remarked his sister, using her lipstick before it portrait of that royal ogre, whose puffed eyes goggled at this modern typo of girlhood.

My American friends do not tiro of London’s little peep-shows, so familiar and stale to English eyes. They love to see the changing of the Guard at St. .James’ Palace, and the squaaron ol Life Guards riding every morning up St. James’ street, and the Grenadiers with fixed bayonets marching every evening to guard the Bank of England. The love our old Loudon squares, so green and restful between solemn old 1 houses with stucco fronts. They find an old-world romance on levee days or Court nights, when expensive motorcars show glimpses of brilliant uniforms and lovely ladies in feathered headdresses. American debutantes are thrilled bv their first presentation at Court, and one sees them next morning dressed' again in all their finery, driving to photographers for a permanent record of this adventure. “You English people never change,” said an American friend of mine. “In spite of general strikes and social revolutions, yom traditions go untouched As it was in the beginning so it is now and ever shall lie, Amen.”

This is the general American view 1 find. Our visitors still find England as old as they thought it was. as traditional as they hoped it would he, and more prosperous than they could have believed after an economic ■crisis which seems to have hit other nations much harder, “Everywhere I go." said an American woman to me yesterday, “I see wonderful motor cars, people spending money freely, masses of well dressed women and every sign of wealth and luxury. Surely yon exaggerate your stagnation ol trade, your crippling taxation. 1 guess : t’s propaganda.” Certainly the scene at Ascot this week, where great numbers of American visitors had gone to see the love best racecourse in England and the most brilliant social show, gives no indication of any financial anxiety in England. AH our ladies of fashion are there in Ascot frocks, which must have cost a lot of money. Their menfolk in shining toppers, well fitting morning coats, sharply creased trousers and gleaming white spats look more prosperous than the American millionaires in soft hats and gray lounge suits. When the sun shines as it is shining now, England at Ascot seems to American eyes to ho restored to its old prosperity and social charm.

And yet at this very time English factories are smokeless, idle all over the country because there is no coal coming out of the mines, ami the latest trade returns would frighten tlie most smiling optimist. That is the side of things the American tourist does' not see nor does lie realise that those gentlemen at Ascot, those lovely ladies, are making a brave show on the remnants of old inherited wealth which mostly passed from them to pay for war between nations and its unfortunate results. Wo meet our American visitors in many quiet corners of the land. They are invading all our beauty spots, discovering old inns, old villages which a few years ago. before the American invasion was fashionable, had, never heard the United Stales accent and seemed as far away from New York as Mars or Saturn. Cameras of little American women snap busily outside old Homan churches, whore those English villagers worshiped centuries before the New World was on the map. Parties of them take tea in the gardens of wayside inns and quiet English folk smile as they listen to the accept of Chicago Omaha, Kansas, admiring old beams, moss gross roofs, ancient doorways. There is perhaps a touch oi envv in the English mind for all these American visitors who invade our country for a month or two on pleasure trips which must cost a lot of money. \\ e wonder what is the secret of American prosperity. Some of ns would like to capture it so that the average standard of life in England might ho as high as in the United States._ A few, a very Few, resent it and with insular prejudice dislike to hear American speech and watch American parties in old places of quiet and beauty which seem spoilt to them by a. crowd of tourists. English reserve, their vivacity and eufrom this discovery _ But American visitors find the Eng-

lish people very friendly, very courteous ami delighted to see thorn. Their trank way of speech breaks down our Englih reerve, their vivacity and enthusiasm cheer us up whenever we have a chance to meet them. This love of things we love ourselves —old houses, old gardens, old l towns, old furniture — make friendship easy if there is time for conversation. it is a pity that the rapid pace at which they go docs not give more chance for a mutual understanding. Among all tourists of this American invasion there are only a low who got to know the English in their homes and in their character. They go to galleries, but there they meet only their own fellow travellers. They go to the old inns, hut do not talk to the country gentry. They make a pilgrimage to Shakespeare’s birthplace, but do not go into the cottage where the spirit of Shakespeare’s England still lives among tho working folk. They dance to an American jazz band at tho Savoy Hotel, but do not go into the middle-class houses where the heart of London beats and the life of London has its dwelling places as in DickenT time.

The American invaders of London get a. glimpse of two outward things, lakeback a tew impressions of England am! the English, remember how old’ they were in our chilly climate and Hu trouble they had getting iced water or grapefruit, but they go buck home without knowing much about l.i qualities of character unci those social conditions which exist beneath the surface of public life in England.