Diary in America, Series Two

Volume Two—Chapter Four

Captain Hamilton has, in his work, expressed his opinion that the Americans have no feeling of ill-will against this country. If Captain Hamilton had stated that the gentlemen and more respectable portion of the Americans, such as the New York merchants, etcetera, had no feeling against this country, and were most anxious to keep on good terms with us, he would have been much more correct. You will find all the respectable portion of the daily press using their best endeavours to reconcile any animosities, and there is nothing which an American gentleman is more eloquent upon, when he falls in with an Englishman, than in trying to convince him that there is no hostile feeling against this country.23 I had not been a week at New York before I had this assurance given me at least twenty times, and I felt inclined at first to believe it: but I soon discovered that this feeling was only confined to a small minority, and that the feelings towards England of the majority, or democratic party, were of deep irreconcilable hatred. I am sorry to assert this; but it is better be known, that we may not be misled by any pretended good-will on the part of the government, or the partial good-will of a few enlightened individuals. Even those who have a feeling of regard and admiration for our country do not venture to make it known, and it would place them in so very unpleasant a situation, that they can scarcely be blamed for keeping their opinions to themselves. With the English they express it warmly, and I believe them to be sincere; but not being openly avowed by a few, it is not communicated or spread by kindling similar warmth in the hearts of others. Indeed it is not surprising, when we consider the national character, that there should be an ill feeling towards England; it would be much more strange if the feeling did not exist. That the Americans should, after their struggle for independence, have felt irritated against the mother country, is natural; they had been oppressed—they had successfully resented the oppression, and emancipated themselves. But still the feeling at that time was different from the one which at present exists. Then it might be compared to the feeling in the heart of a younger son of an ancient house, who had been compelled by harsh treatment to disunite from the head of the family, and provide for himself—still proud of his origin, yet resentful at the remembrance of injury—at times vindictive, at others full of tenderness and respect. The aristocratical and the democratical impulses by turns gaining the ascendant it was then a manly, fine feeling. The war of 1814, the most fatal event in the short American history, would not have been attended with any increase of ill-will, as the Americans were satisfied with their successful repulse of our attempts to invade the country, and their unexpected good fortune in their naval conflicts. They felt that they had consideration and respect in the eyes of other nations, and, what was to them still gratifying, the respect of England herself. In every point they were fortunate, for a peace was concluded upon honourable terms just as they were beginning to feel the bitter consequences of the war. But the effect of this war was to imbue the people with a strong idea of their military prowess, and the national glory became their favourite theme. Their hero, General was raised to the presidency by the democratical party, and ever since the Americans have been ready to bully or quarrel with anybody and about everything.

This feeling becomes stronger every day. They want to whip the whole world. The wise and prudent perceive the folly of this, and try all they can to produce a better feeling; but the majority are now irresistible, and their fiat will decide upon war or peace. The government is powerless in opposition to it; all it can do is to give a legal appearance to any act of violence.

This idea of their own prowess will be one cause of danger to their institutions, for war must ever be fatal to democracy. In this country, during peace, we became more and more democratic; but whenever we are again forced into war, the reins will be again tightened from necessity, and thus war must ever interfere with free institutions. A convincing proof of the idea the Americans have of their own prowess was when General Jackson made the claim for compensation from the French. Through the intermediation of England the claim was adjusted, and peace preserved; and the Americans are little aware what a debt of gratitude they owe to this country for its interference. They were totally ignorant of the power and resources of France. They had an idea, and I was told so fifty times, that France paid the money from fear, and that if she had not, they would have “whipped her into the little end of nothing.”

I do not doubt that the Americans would have tried their best; but I am of opinion, (not withstanding the Americans would have been partially, from their acknowledged bravery, successful) that in two years France, with her means, which are well known to, and appreciated by, the English, would (to use their own terms again,) have made “an everlasting smash” of the United States, and the Americans would have had to conclude an ignominious peace. I am aware that this idea will be scouted in America as absurd; but still I am well persuaded that any protracted war would not only be their ruin in a pecuniary point of view, but fatal to their institutions. But to return.

There are many reasons why the Americans have an inveterate dislike to this country. In the first place, they are educated to dislike us and our monarchical institutions; their short history points out to them that we have been their only oppressor in the first instance, and their opponent ever since. Their annual celebration of the independence is an opportunity for vituperation of this country which is never lost sight of. Their national vanity is hurt by feeling what they would fain believe, that they are not the “greatest nation on earth;” that they are indebted to us, and the credit we give them, for their prosperity and rapid advance; that they must still look to us for their literature and the fine arts, and that, in short, they are still dependent upon England. I have before observed, that this hostile spirit against us is fanned by discontented emigrants, and by those authors who, to become popular with the majority, laud their own country and defame England; but the great cause of this increase of hostility against us is the democratical party having come into power, and who consider it necessary to excite animosity against this country. When ever it is requisite to throw a tub to the whale, the press is immediately full of abuse; everything is attributed to England, and the machinations of England; she is, by their accounts, here, there, and everywhere, plotting mischief and injury, from the Gulf of Florida to the Rocky Mountains. If we are to believe the democratic press, England is the cause of everything offensive to the majority—if money is scarce, it is England that has occasioned it—if credit is bad, it is England—if eggs are not fresh or beef is tough, it is, it must be, England. They remind you of the parody upon Fitzgerald in Smith’s humorous and witty ‘Rejected Addresses,’ when he is supposed to write against Buonaparte:

Why, England. And all this the majority do steadfastly believe, because they wish to believe it.

How, then, is it possible that the lower classes in the United States, (and the lower and unenlightened principally compose the majority,) can have other than feelings of ill-will towards this country? and of what avail is it to us that the high-minded and sensible portion think otherwise, when they are in such a trifling minority, and afraid to express their sentiments? When we talk about a nation, we look to the mass, and that the mass are hostile, and inveterately hostile to this country, is a most undeniable fact.

There is another cause of hostility which I have not adverted to, the remarks upon them by travellers in their country, such as I am now making; but as the Americans never hear the truth from their own countrymen, it is only from foreigners24 that they can. Of course, after having been accustomed to flattery from their earliest days, the truth, when it does come, falls more heavily, and the injury and insult which they consider they have received is never forgotten.

Among the American authors who have increased the ill-will of his countrymen towards this country, Mr Cooper stands pre-eminent. Mr Bulwer has observed that the character and opinions of an author may be pretty fairly estimated by his writings. This is true, but they may be much better estimated by one species of writing than by another. In works of invention or imagination, it is but now and then, by an incidental remark, that we can obtain a clue to the author’s feelings. Carried away by the interest of the story, and the vivid scene presented to the imagination, we are apt to form a better opinion of the author than he deserves, because we feel kindly and grateful towards him for the amusement which he has afforded us; but when a writer puts off the holiday dress of fiction, and appears before us in his every day costume, giving us his thoughts and feelings upon matters of fact, then it is that we can appreciate the real character of the author. Mr Cooper’s character is not to be gained by reading his ‘Pilot,’ but it may be fairly estimated by reading his ‘Travels in Switzerland,’ and his remarks upon England. If, then, we are to judge of Mr Cooper by the above works, I have no hesitation in asserting that he appears to be a disappointed democrat, with a determined hostility to England and the English. This hostility on the part of Mr Cooper cannot proceed from any want of attention shewn him in this country, or want of acknowledgment of his merits as an author. It must be sought for elsewhere. The attacks upon the English in a work professed to be written upon Switzerland, prove how rancorous this feeling is on his part; and not all the works published by English travellers upon America have added so much to the hostile feeling against us, as Mr Cooper has done by his writings alone. Mr Cooper would appear to wish to detach his countrymen, not only from us, but from the whole European Continent. He tells them in his work on Switzerland, that they are not liked or esteemed any where, and that to acknowledge yourself an American is quite sufficient to make those recoil who were intending to advance. Mr Cooper is, in my opinion, very much mistaken in this point;—the people of the Continent do not as yet know enough of the Americans to decide upon their national character. He observes very truly, that no one appears to think any thing about the twelve millions; why so? because in Switzerland, Germany, and other nations in the heart of the Continent, they have no interest about a nation so widely separated from them, and from intercourse with which they receive neither profit nor loss. Neither do they think about the millions in South America, and not caring or hearing about them they can have formed no ideas of their character as a nation. If, then, the Americans are shunned (which I do not believe they are, for they are generally supposed to be a variety of Englishmen), it must be from the conduct of those individuals of the American nation who have travelled there, and not because, as Mr Cooper would imply, they have a democratic form of government. Have not the Swiss something similar, and are they shunned? Who cares what may be the form of government of a country divided from them by three or four thousand miles of water, and of whom they have only read? Every nation, as well as every individual, makes its own character; but Mr Cooper would prove that the dislike shewn to the Americans abroad is owing to the slander of them by the English, and he points out that in the books containing the names of travellers, he no less than twenty-five times observed offensive remarks written beneath the names of those who acknowledged themselves Americans. These books were at different places, places to which all tourists in Switzerland naturally repair. Did it never occur to Mr Cooper that one young fool of an Englishman, during his tour, might have been the author of all these obnoxious remarks, and is the folly of one insignificant individual to be gravely commented upon in a widely disseminated work, so as to occasion or increase the national ill-will? Surely there is little wisdom and much captiousness in this feeling.

How blinded by his ill-will must Mr Cooper be, to enter into a long discussion in the work I refer to, to prove that England deserves the title, among other national characteristics, of a blackguarding nation! founding his assertion upon the language of our daily press. If the English, judged by the press, are a blackguarding nation, what are the Americans, if they are to be judged by the same standard? we must be indebted to the Americans themselves for an epithet. To wind up, he more than once pronounced the English to be parvenus. There is an old proverb which says, “A man whose house is built of glass should not be the first to throw stones;” and that these last two charges should be brought against us by an American, is certainly somewhat singular and unfortunate.

That there should be a hostile feeling when English men go over to America to compete with them in business or in any profession, is natural; it would be the same everywhere; this feeling, however, in the United States is usually shewn by an attack upon the character of the party, so as to influence the public against him. There was an American practising phrenology, when a phrenologist arrived from England. As this opposition was not agreeable, the American immediately circulated a report that the English phrenologist had asserted that he had examined the skulls of many Americans, and that he had never fallen in with such thick-headed fellows in his life. This was quite sufficient—the English operator was obliged to clear out as fast as he could, and try his fortune elsewhere.

The two following placards were given me; they were pasted all over the city. What the offence was I never heard, but they are very amusing documents. It is the first time, I believe, that public singers were described as aristocrats, and Englishmen of the first stamp.

“Americans:—

“It remains with you to say whether or not you will be imposed upon by these base aristocrats, who come from England to America, in order to gain a livelihood, and despise the land that gives them bread.

“Some few years since there came to this country three ‘gentlemen players,’ who were received with open arms by the Americans, and treated more as brothers than strangers; when their pockets were full, in requital to our best endeavours to raise them to their merit, the ungrateful dogs turned round and abused us. It is useless, at present, to give the names of two of those gentlemen, as they are not now candidates for public favour; but there is one, Mr Hodges, who is at present engaged at the Pavilion Theatre. This thing has said publicly that the Americans were all ‘a parcel of ignoramuses,’ and that ‘the yankee players’ were ‘perfect fools, not possessing the least particle of talent,’ etcetera. We must be brief—should we repeat all we have heard it would fill a page of the News.

“Will the Americans be abused in this way without retaliation? We are always willing to bestow that respect which is due to strangers; but when our kindness is treated with contempt, and in return receive base epithets and abuse, let us ‘block the game.’

“Once for all—will you permit this thing in pantaloons and whiskers, this brainless, un-ideaed cub, whom a thousand years will not suffice to lick into a bear, longer to impose upon your good-natures? If so, we shall conclude you have lost all of that spirit so characteristic of true born Americans.

“A word to Mr (?) Hodges.—When these meet your eye, a dignified contempt will most opportunely swell your breast—such is ever the case with the coward! In affected scorn, you will seek a shelter from the danger you dare not brave, but we warn you that one day must overtake you.

“Several Americans.”

“Americans:– If there is a spark of that spirit in your blood with which your forefathers bequeathed you, I hope you will shew it when men come among us from a foreign shore to get a living, and while here to speak in terms towards our country and ourselves, derogatory to the feelings of an American to listen to. These men that I speak of are Mr Hodges and Mr Corri, Englishmen of the first stamp, who declare that the Yankees, (as we are all termed, and proud of the name I dare say,) ‘are a parcel of ignoramuses—cannibals—don’t know how to appreciate talent’—they possess very little I am certain. However, the thing stands thus: they have slandered our country, they have slandered us; and if they are permitted to play upon the boards of the Eagle Theatre, I shall conclude that we have lost all that spunk so characteristic in a True Born American.”

There certainly is no good feeling in the majority towards England, and this is continually shewn in a variety of instances, particularly if there is any excitement from distress or other causes. At the time that the great commercial distress took place, the abuse of England was beyond all bounds; and in a public meeting of democrats at Philadelphia, the first resolution passed was, “that they did not owe England one farthing,” and this is the general outcry of the lower orders when any thing was wrong. I have often argued with them on this subject, and never could convince them. This country has now fifty-five millions sterling invested in American securities, which is a large sum, and the majority consider that a war will spunge out this debt. Their argument which they constantly urged against me, has more soundness in it than would be supposed:– “If you declare war with us, what is the first thing you do, you seize all American vessels and all American property that you can lay hold of, which have entered into your ports on the faith of peace between the two countries. Now, why have we not an equal right to seize all English property whenever we can find it in this country?” But this, as I have observed, is the language of the democrats and locofocos. There are thousands of honourable men in America, not only as merchants, but in every other class, who are most anxious to keep on good terms with us, and have the kindest feelings towards England. Unfortunately they are but few compared to the majority, and much as they may regret the hostile feelings towards us, I am afraid that it is wholly out of their power to prevent their increase, which will be in exact proportion with the increase of the popular sway.

Volume Two—Chapter Five

The character of the Americans is that of a restless, uneasy people—they cannot sit still, they cannot listen attentively, unless the theme be politics or dollars—they must do something, and, like children, if they cannot do anything else, they will do mischief—their curiosity is unbounded, and they are very capricious. Acting upon impulse, they are very generous at one moment, and without a spark of charity the next. They are good-tempered, and possess great energy, ingenuity, bravery, and presence of mind. Such is the estimate I have formed of their general character, independent of the demoralising effects of their institutions, which renders it so anomalous.

The American author, Mr Sanderson, very truly observes of his countrymen, that, “they have grown vicious without the refinements and distractions of the fine arts and liberal amusements.” The Americans have few amusements; they are too busy. Athletic sports they are indifferent to; they look only to those entertainments which feed their passion for excitement. The theatre is almost their only resort, and even that is not so well attended as it might be, considering their means. There are some very good and well-conducted theatres in America: the best are the Park and National at New York, the Tremont at Boston, and the Chesnut Street Theatre at Philadelphia. The American stock actors, as they term those who are not considered as stars, are better than our own; but were the theatres to depend upon stock actors they would be deserted—the love of novelty is the chief inducement of the Americans to frequent the theatre, and they look for importations of star actors from this country as regularly as they do for our manufactured goods, or the fashions from Paris. In most of the large cities they have two theatres; one for legitimate drama, and the other for melodrama, as the Bowery Theatre at New York, and the Walnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia; these latter are seldom visited by the aristocratical portion of the citizens.