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CHAPTER XXX.
WORKING MEN'S MOVEMENTS—THE GREAT RAILWAY STRIKE—THE MOLLY
MAGUIRES—RICH AND POOR—VANDERBILT—JAY GOULD—WORKING MEN'S DEMONSTRATION—A
LABOUR CONVENTION—THE KNIGHTS OF LABOUR—UNLIMITED GREENBACKS—HOSTILITY TO
THE CHINESE—CHINESE LAUNDRYMEN —STATE AND TREATMENT OF THE
NEGROES—SOCIALISTS—DENIS KEARNEY—OPPORTUNITIES AND POSSIBILITIES FOR THE
POOR.
AMERICA is not free from those outbreaks of
industrial warfare which occasionally disturb more ancient countries.
Strikes, indeed, assume at times a much more violent and dangerous form in
the New World than they do in the Old. The great railway strike of
1877 was really in its extent and its devastations a civil war.
Property worth thirty millions of dollars was destroyed; the civil
authorities were paralysed; and when the military attempted to prevent the
wanton ravages of the rioters, pitched battles were actually fought, the
killed and wounded on each side amounting in some cases to the losses
sustained in a warlike encounter. The outrages committed by the
Molly Maguires, who composed the Pennsylvania section of the Ancient Order
of Hibernians, were the result of a conspiracy rather than a combination.
So far as the organization of the Mollies may be considered a trades
movement at all, it resembled that which the infamous Broadhead conducted
in Sheffield some years ago. The conspirators, however, who all
belonged to one race, made fierce and relentless war against the managers
of mines and ironworks. A gentleman who occupied this unenviable
position at Scranton told me many extraordinary stories of the desperate
encounters he and his workpeople had had with Mollies in ambush. It
was a fact, he assured me, that certain divisions of the organization were
known even to the members as "murder committees." A successful
murder was called a "clean job." More horrible still, there were
sometimes rival claimants for the honours and rewards bestowed on the
assassins! Innumerable crimes were traced to the secret operations
of the conspirators. It was only when traitors and spies found their
way into the secret councils of the Molly Maguires that one of the most
formidable conspiracies of modern times was disrupted and destroyed.
The later strikes in America, however, I am glad to say, as that of the
ironworkers to which I referred in the last chapter, have been conducted
with little violence and less bloodshed.
The contrast between rich and poor in America, which is more
marked there than it is even in England, has induced a large portion of
the working classes to associate themselves with the Socialist movement.
Rich men are both richer and more numerous among our cousins than among
ourselves. Mr. Vanderbilt, for instance, is reputed to be worth
forty or fifty millions sterling. The fortune of Mr. Jay Gould is
estimated at a hundred million dollars. The other kings of Wall
Street—Russell Sage, Cyrus Field, etc.—can also boast of many millions of
money. The wealth of these gentlemen consists chiefly of railway and
similar stocks. Millionaires are as common in the mining districts
of Colorado and Nevada as they are in New York. Some of the silver
kings have risen suddenly from humble positions. One of them was a
bar-tender—what we would call a barman—in California not so many years
ago, while another was once a labourer in the silver mines. The
ostentatious display of wealth on the part of a few of the great
capitalists—notably in the case of the younger Vanderbilt, who has erected
a magnificent palace in New York, and in the case of Mr. Gould, who is
spending a quarter of a million dollars on a new steam yacht—has
encouraged wild notions of some sort of levelling process in the minds of
certain members of the working classes. [20] It
is not a little unfortunate, albeit perhaps not at all wonderful, that
many of the labour organizations in the United States set up claims which
cannot be realised without social convulsion. Twenty thousand
working men paraded the streets of New York on the 5th of September 1882.
Among the mottoes inscribed on the banners borne in the procession were
these:—"Labour pays all Taxes," "Labour built this Republic: Labour shall
rule it," "To the Workers should belong the Wealth," "Pay no Rent."
About the same time a Labour Convention was held in Philadelphia.
The Convention was attended by one hundred and twenty delegates from the
trades unions of Pennsylvania, was presided over by John Jarrett,
president of the association which was then conducting the great strike of
ironworkers, and culminated in the adoption of an elaborate platform of
principles—some of them moderate and attainable, others extravagant and
impracticable. It was demanded that a lawful day's work should be
limited to eight hours, that all children under fourteen years of age
should be excluded from the workshops, that equal rates of pay should be
given to both sexes, that it should be made a penal offence to import
labour under contract for the purpose of reducing American labour, and
that the Government should enact a purely national circulating medium by
issuing unlimited greenbacks! The two points on which the organized
working men of America appear to insist, apart from matters directly
concerning their own interests, are the expulsion of Chinese immigrants
from the country and the establishment of a system of currency reform
which would probably in a very short time create infinite confusion.
These two demands lie at the bottom of the changes which are sought by the
great secret organization known as the Knights of Labour—an organization
which conducts the political work for the various trades societies, which
was originally formed at a meeting of six cloth-cutters in Philadelphia in
November, 1869, and which now claims to command the power of 1,306,000
members. The motto of the Knights is, "Labour built the World;
Labour must own the World." A branch of the society is called the
League of Deliverance, "organized by the united labour elements of the
Pacific Coast, in convention assembled, under the auspices of the Trades
Assembly, for the purpose of—1. Preventing further Chinese importation; 2.
Removing those Chinese now here." The organ of the Knights of Labour
in San Francisco has printed and reprinted this remarkable sentiment:—"He
who employs Chinese labour or encourages it makes prostitutes of American
women and thieves of American men." The announcement in the same
paper of the "first grand annual picnic of the Anti-Chinese Laundry
Association" contained an engraving of America blowing a Chinaman from a
gun, beneath which was the following doggerel:
Blow loud your trumpets,
Beat well your drums,
And let the cannons roar;
The Mongolian Hordes
Shall never again
Invade our Golden Shore. |
The antipathy to the yellow race which is exemplified in
these lines is naturally calculated to lead at some time or other to
scenes as violent and as repulsive as those which were witnessed in New
York when black men were hung to the lamp-posts in the streets, and when
the veriest scum of that city burnt down the Negro Orphan Asylum.
Negroes were hated at that time by the lowest class of labourers because
they constituted a competing power. A like reason now impels the
same class to turn their wrath against the Chinese. There may or may
not be good and sufficient reasons for preventing an irruption of
Mongolians, since such an irruption might in time seriously affect the
fortunes of the Republic; but I am bound to say that the Chinamen whom I
saw in all the large cities I visited seemed to me a perfectly harmless
and inoffensive class of people. There is no doubt of their
industry; nor is there more doubt of their orderly and unobtrusive
behaviour. The Chinaman, in fact, so far as I could see or hear, was
a model citizen. Much of the laundry work performed in the chief
cities has fallen into his hands. And so well does he execute this
service, that a man whom I casually met near Bunker Hill Monument informed
me that a white shirt washed and ironed by a Chinaman would keep clean a
day or two longer than the same article if washed and ironed by native
laundresses. The Chinese, however, whatever their numbers, live as a
class apart, mingling in no way with the ordinary population.
Strangers in a strange land, there is little likelihood that they will
ever be anything else. The isolation which appeared to be
characteristic of the Chinese in America was characteristic also, though
in a lesser degree, of the negroes. It was a rare thing to see negro
men or women in the company of any other than members of their own race.
And yet the negroes with whom I conversed were as agreeable and as
intelligent as any portion of the community. It is true that at
times they appear to show more of the frolicsome attributes of children
than the white people; but I noticed in their conversation none of that
peculiarity of dialect which is invariably associated with the minstrels
of our concert halls. I inquired of a negro waiter in the Capitol at
Washington whether black men had now any reason to complain of the
treatment they received. His answer was satisfactory—"None at all,
sir." An official connected with the same building—a negro of marked
intelligence—assured me that the prejudice against his race was rapidly
dying out, at least in that part of the Republic. "Was there," I
asked, "an equality between black and white about there?" "Yes,
sir," he answered, "measurably so." Even in New York, where a dark
skin was once treated as a sort of crime, the decline of race hatred is
indicated by the fact that special schools for coloured children are about
to be abandoned. The negro is proving himself so good and acceptable
a citizen that the day may not be distant when black men will hold some of
the highest offices in the State. Only twice did I hear any vile
abuse of the coloured population. Once the speaker was an emigrant
from the North of England; the speaker in the other case was a doctor from
New York. Everybody else, within the limits of my observation,
appeared to treat the once unfortunate slave-race with consideration and
respect.
The Socialism of Robert Owen and Louis Blanc is very
different from the Socialism which finds favour in America. Owen's
followers in England have covered the country with co-operative societies.
If the followers of Louis Blanc have not performed a like service for
France, they have at least abstained from terrifying the timid.
While co-operation is but little known in America, and in some parts not
even known at all, the men who call themselves Socialists spend their time
in propagating revolutionary and anarchical ideas, advocating the use of
dynamite, and threatening to destroy everything in order that no body may
own anything. There can be little doubt that these furious fanatics
would overturn the American Republic, just as similar fanatics overturned
the Spanish Republic. The operations of the secret societies which
flourish in some of the large cities across the Atlantic would make
orderly progress impossible, since no distinction is made between laws
which are imposed by a despot and laws which have received the sanction of
a free people. As everybody knows, progress that is not orderly is
apt to end in reaction. Some years ago an Irishman named Denis
Kearney obtained great influence among the working people of California on
account of his advocacy of the expulsion of the Chinese. The
language he used was even more violent than the policy he supported.
"I now appeal to you," he said, addressing a crowd in the sand-lots of San
Francisco, "to get ready; for, by the eternal God, the men we have elected
must be seated, and by physical force, if necessary. I have told you
for two years that when the ballot failed I would resort to bullets.
All that is left to you now is the dagger and the bullet. Arm
yourselves with rifles, hatchets, pistols. I know a thousand or two
of us will get killed, but all the thieves will get killed. When the
melee is over, you bet there won't be a Chinaman left in China Town."
Nothing, however, came of this ferocious talk. And now, as I was
informed by a San Francisco gentleman, Mr. Kearney, accredited with having
amassed a fortune of 40,000 dollars, has so far fallen out of public
favour that he is both hated and despised by the very classes he once
misled. It has happened recently that men of Mr. Kearney's
temperament have publicly advised the assassination of capitalists and the
plunder of banks and stores. But even less attention has happily
been given to these ravings than to the outrageous counsels of the San
Francisco orator.
Working people who are natives of America pay little or no
heed to the apostles of violence and disorder. What countenance is
given to preposterous theories comes from men who are aliens to the
country, strangers to its institutions, and out of harmony with the spirit
which has made it one of the greatest nations on earth. The
intelligent and sensible portion of the working classes, who constitute,
of course, the great bulk of the population, see clearly, as everybody who
visits America cannot help seeing, that there are opportunities and
possibilities in the States for the honest and the industrious labourer
such as are nowhere else presented to the poor. The condition of the
labourer, hopeless in many parts of Europe, is, except in time of crisis
and depression, at least cheerful in America. Moreover, the worker
has not to endure "the proud man's contumely"; for he is at least the
political equal of the richest in the Land. As every French soldier
is said to carry a marshal's baton in his knapsack, so every native-born
citizen of America may be said to have within his reach the chair of the
President of the Republic. It is this sense of his own importance as
a member of a great community that makes him revere and cherish the
country of his birth.
CHAPTER XXXI.
LORD MACAULAY'S PREDICTION—THE GREAT REBELLION—DISBANDMENT
OF THE FEDERAL ARMIES—PRESIDENT LINCOLN AT GETTYSBURG—THE STANDING
ARMY—SHERMAN AND GRANT—SPEECH OF WENDELL PHILLIPS—DANGERS TO THE
REPUBLIC—FOREIGN HORDES—PROPOSED SALE OF IRISH VOTES—"THE WORST FOES OF
THE COUNTRY"—THREATENED CHANGE OF POLICY.
THE late Lord Macaulay adventured the prediction
that the American Republic would in no long time end in failure. I
forget now the reasons he assigned for this speculative opinion; but these
reasons are of no great consequence, since the prediction itself is not
only unfulfilled, but likely to remain unfulfilled for a long while yet.
The United States did indeed come very near to disruption twenty years
ago. Some of our Tory orators exultingly declared at the time that
the Republican bubble had burst. If the slave-owners could have
succeeded in separating the Southern from the Northern States, the
European system of large armaments, of embattled frontiers, and of
periodical wars would have been introduced into America. And
monarchy and despotism would probably not have been long in following.
But the patriotism of the American people saved the nation from that
calamity. It is altogether doubtful whether any monarchy in Europe
could have passed through a crisis so terrible and prolonged as that which
the American Republic experienced, and survived the shock and uproar.
The Republic, however, emerged from the struggle stronger and freer than
ever. What is perhaps even more remarkable is the fact that the vast
armies which had entered the field to put down the rebellion returned to
the peaceful pursuits of life without causing any disturbance whatsoever.
The conduct of the Federal soldiers, indeed, is deserving of the eloquent
and graceful praise which Macaulay himself has bestowed on the disbanded
troops of our own Commonwealth. A people who could make such
sacrifices and undergo such toils to maintain the institutions bequeathed
to them by the Fathers of the Revolution would be the last in the world to
shrink from still greater sacrifices and still heavier toils in order to
perpetuate them. The touching and enduring appeal which Abraham
Lincoln made in his first inaugural address to his "dissatisfied
fellow-countrymen" will inspire future generations when times of trouble
arise. "See to it," said Lincoln, two years later at Gettysburg,
"see to it that government of the people, for the people, and by the
people, shall not perish from the earth." The great political
experiment which was commenced in the New World a century ago, so far as
we may judge from existing indications, will last as long as any system in
Europe. The anxiety of American citizens regarding their national
future was shown in their declining to increase the standing army beyond
25,000 men, though urged to take that step by so estimable and
accomplished a soldier as General Sherman. It was probably the same
spirit that inspired them to refuse a third term in the Presidency to the
most successful and most popular of their commanders—General Grant.
There arose in Boston some years ago an agitation for
preserving one of the historic monuments of that city—the Old South
Church, the church in which the leaders of the movement for national
independence had held some of their meetings. Mr. Wendell Phillips,
in the course of the agitation, delivered some stirring and eloquent
speeches. It was in one of these speeches that the great orator, referring
to the courage of the founders of the Republic in resting the government
on the suffrage of every individual man, spoke as follows:—
No previous experiment threw any light on that untried and
desperate venture. Greece had her Republics; they were narrowed to a race,
and rested on slaves. Switzerland had her Republics; they were the
Republics of families. Holland had her Republic; it was a Republic of
landowners. Our fathers were to cut loose from property, from the
anchorage of landed estates; they were to risk what no State had ever
risked before, what all human experience and all statesmanship
considered stark madness. Jefferson and Sam Adams, representing two
leading States, may be supposed to have looked out on their future, and
contemplated cutting loose from all that the world had regarded as
safe—property, privileged classes, a muzzled press. It was a pathless sea. But they had that serene faith in God that it was safe to trust a man with
the rights He gave him. These forty millions of people have at last
achieved what no race, no nation, no age hitherto has succeeded in doing. We have founded a Republic on the unlimited suffrage of the millions. We
have actually worked out the problem, that man, as God created him, may be
trusted with self-government. We have shown the world that a Church
without a bishop, and a State without a king, is an actual, real,
every-day possibility. A hundred years ago our fathers announced this
sublime and, as it seemed then, foolhardy declaration, that God intended
all men to be free and equal—all men, without restriction,—without
qualification, without limit. A hundred years have rolled away since that
venturous declaration, and to-day, with a territory that joins ocean to
ocean, with forty millions of people, with two wars behind her, with the
grand achievement of having grappled with the fearful disease that
threatened her central life, and broken four millions of her fetters, the
great Republic, stronger than ever, launches into the second century of
her existence. The annals of the world have no such chapter, in its
breadth, its depth, its significance, or its bearing on future history.
The spirit that inspired these powerful periods, if infused
into the masses of the people, will itself suffice to perpetuate the
majestic monument which has been reared in the United States. But it must
not be assumed that no dangers threaten the Republic—dangers from within
as well as dangers from without. The licence of the press, the alarming
prevalence of personal imputation, the absorption of the public lauds, and
the growing disparity between the wealth of the rich and the means of the
poor—all these things indicate internal dangers. But the dangers from
without are perhaps even more real, immediate, and formidable.
It is the great influx of strangers from every quarter of the
globe—all of whom, if they care to claim the privilege, are admitted to
political equality after brief probation and almost without inquiry that
constitutes the great danger from without. "What fools," wrote an old
Chartist to me from Massachusetts shortly after the State elections of
1882, "what fools these smart Yankees were to place their birthright at
the mercy of a foreign horde!" But let us first understand the extent of
this foreign flood. All through the summer of 1882 emigrants from Europe
and elsewhere were being landed at Castle Garden, the great depot for
receiving them in New York, at the rate of many thousands every day. During the month of July, no fewer than 65,000 reached the States. Taking
the whole year through, the increase of population from this source was
734,000 persons. Whence came this mighty mass? The statistics of Castle
Garden show that every country was represented, though the main
contingents were natives of the British Isles, Germany, Sweden, Norway,
Denmark, Italy, and Russia. But other quarters of the globe were
represented too—China, Japan, the East Indies, the West Indies, South
America, Africa, Australia, New Zealand, and even Greenland and Iceland.
Foreigners in 1850 constituted only nine and a half per cent. of the
population of the States; but now they form more than thirteen per cent.
Of the foreign residents, the Irish, who numbered forty-three and a half
per cent. in 1850, number now only twenty-seven per cent. Since the Irish
are said to constitute "the least manageable and unhappily the least
fusible of all the ingredients of American society," the natives of the
Republic appear to regard the greater irruption of Germans, Scandinavians,
and English with satisfaction. Well, it is this great influx of strangers
that troubles America; for the emigrants bring with them habits,
prejudices, and propensities that are sometimes little in harmony with
free institutions. [21]
What peril there may be from this source is due to the
extreme liberality of the laws relating to the suffrage. Foreigners,
though they may not be able even to speak the language of the country, are
admitted to equal rights with American citizens twelve months after they
set foot on the soil of the Republic. This is the theory of the law; but,
as a matter of fact, many thousands of emigrants, if their votes should
happen to be needed by their friends, are put upon the electoral roll a
few weeks after they have arrived at Castle Garden. Of course, the process
can only be accomplished by fraud; but political frauds in New York, the
great centre of political corruption, are so common that the real vote of
the people is not always triumphant. The emigrants who, while declaring
their allegiance to America, retain all their old feelings in respect to
the lands which they have left, have often so little regard for the
reputation of their new country that they traffic in the privileges they
have acquired. A case of this kind occurred in Pennsylvania at the Fall
elections of 1882. According to the statement of a Philadelphia paper,
fortified by documents purporting to have been written by the parties
concerned, certain persons contracted for the sale of some ten thousand
Irish votes to one of the candidates for the office of Governor of the
State. The New York Herald of September 12, 1882, referring to this
scandal, indignantly denounced the proceeding in the following terms:—"The
attempted sale of the Irish Land League vote in Pennsylvania is a question
of very serious importance for Americans of every party, and of no party,
who believe in American institutions and in a republican or democratic
form of government. The majority of the members of the Land League are, or
profess to be, American citizens. They have absolved themselves from
allegiance to the government under which they were born. They have sworn
allegiance to the country of their adoption, which has given them a home,
food, shelter, work. They have banded themselves together in a society
here, not for the purpose of advancing American interests, but Irish
interests, in which genuine Americans, native and adopted, cannot have,
and should not have, any interest except the broad one of the advancement
of society everywhere. It is not wrong in them to labour towards that end
in a general way; but when to gain their individual and personal ends they
put themselves on the auction block, and sell the citizenship with which
they have been invested, the question becomes one of the most serious and
most momentous importance. The mercenaries who were hired by an English
king to help to conquer the revolutionists of 1776 are deservedly held in
universal detestation. The pretended American citizens of foreign
extraction who, having sworn allegiance to the government which was then
founded, are now endeavouring to degrade and debauch its politics, are the
worst foes that to-day it is called on to encounter. They are now more
dangerous than an army of invasion." An army of invasion may be expelled
from the United States; but it is not possible to expel an army of
emigrants, who, having settled in the country, have acquired the rights of
citizenship, though they may be as ready to sell as they have been anxious
to acquire them. But there would be no hardship in a regulation which
excluded aliens from the privilege of the vote till they had had time to
understand and appreciate the institutions of the country.
Should many more scandals like that of Pennsylvania occur,
there may not unlikely arise a demand for such a change of the law as will
meet the evil. Even as it is, the enormous number of foreign arrivals has
encouraged a few of the public men of America to advocate the
establishment of some sort of restriction. For instance, Mr. Le Due,
formerly Chief of the Agricultural Bureau at Washington, contends that
"the influx of foreigners now coming and to come is a menace and wrong
that should meet with a speedy and decisive action in the same direction,
if not so radical, as that insisted upon in the repression of the Chinese." The policy lately adopted against Celestial strangers may some day furnish
a precedent for a similar policy against strangers from Europe. The United
States has hitherto welcomed and invited people from all parts of the
world. It is only when these people show that they have no regard for the
honour of the country, and only value the privileges of citizenship in
order to use them for an alien purpose or for individual profit, that any
wish is expressed for the revision of the old and established policy of
the Republic.
CHAPTER XXXII.
DISPOSAL OF PUBLIC LANDS—CONSEQUENCES OF THE AGRARIAN
POLICY OF THE REPUBLIC—VAST ESTATES OF THE GREAT RAILWAY COMPANIES—CARL
SCHURZ—A SIGNIFICANT QUESTION—HENRY GEORGE'S IDEAS—CAPACITIES OF THE
STATES—MISCEGENATION—A NEW RACE-POLITICAL AND SOCIAL EQUALITY—JOHN BOYLE
O'REILLY—THE STRENGTH AND GLORY OF THE REPUBLIC.
THE policy of the Republic in the matter of the
disposal of the public lands is a policy of doubtful wisdom and
expediency. It is a policy which is reproducing in the New World
many of the evil features of the Old. The statesmen of America had
it in their power to commence a much grander experiment than that which
they attempted—an experiment which would have given
to the country, besides the political equality it possesses, a greater
degree of social equality than has yet fallen to its lot. They had a
rich and virgin soil of almost unlimited extent to which that great
experiment could have been applied. It is extraordinary even now,
and it may in course of time be found to have been disastrous, that they
should not have known how best to have used the advantage which fortune
placed in their hands. [22] The Republic has
divested itself of its own patrimony—given or disposed of it to all who
asked. The folly of feudal monarchs in bestowing splendid manors on
the favourites of the Crown was even less conspicuous than that of the
commonwealth of America in transferring to the hands of private owners the
fertile valleys and prairies of the West. All the land round about
Niagara was owned at one time by the State of New York. It was sold
or given to private persons, so that every citizen who wants to see the
wonderful cataract has to pay for the privilege. And now it is
proposed that the State should buy back the property which was once its
own, and which ought never to have been alienated, at a cost of several
millions of dollars.
The foolish policy of which this is simply an example is
still pursued in the newer territories of the Republic. It is bad
enough that public lands should be given to individuals on condition that
they cultivate them; it is worse that millions of acres should be handed
over to corporations who use them for purposes of speculation. If
the theory be admitted that the private ownership of the soil is the best
means of procuring its cultivation, and that the State is justified in
relinquishing control of what ought to be considered national property,
then there is little to be said against the manner in which the great
railway companies of America have become possessed of vast stretches of
territory. It was to encourage the construction of railways in the
unsettled parts of the country that the Government offered inducements in
the way of great land grants; but serious evils have resulted all the
same. Mr. Sackville West, the English Minister at Washington, has
explained in a report some of the consequences of the agrarian policy of
the Government. It is evident from the facts stated by Mr. West that
America is preparing for herself a land question which is certain to give
trouble here after. There are landowners in the Far West whose
estates are as extensive as any of those of our English aristocracy,
though it must be admitted that the lands in the former case are used for
cultivation instead of being kept for pleasure or retained for the
exercise of political influence. Thirty-nine of the great railway
companies own among them grants amounting to no fewer than 179,922,528
acres, which is about five times the acreage of England and Wales!
The largest holder of land is the Atlantic and Pacific Company, which
possesses 49,244,803 acres—twelve millions more than the acreage of the
English kingdom. The Northern Pacific Railway comes next with
42,000,000 acres; then the Union Pacific, with 12,000,000; then the
Southern Pacific, with 11,964,000; and then the Central Pacific, with
nearly 8,000,000 acres. Numerous other comparatively insignificant
companies have absorbed considerably more than a million acres each.
This aggregation of public lands by the great railway corporations of
America has resulted from the policy of Congress to make grants of every
alternate section along the line of road, within a certain number of
miles, say twelve or twenty. It has followed from the prevailing
system that there is growing up in a new country the evil features of that
old and effete society in Europe which all Americans affect to despise.
The railway companies, however, are disposing of their property as fast as
they can find customers. Mr. West mentions that they have already
sold 14,310,204 acres at the price of 68,995,479 dollars; but it is
estimated that they still hold in reserve about 164,512,334 acres.
The disposal of these vast estates will not, of course, improve matters
much, because it can only tend to increase the disparity between the very
rich and the very poor.
A significant question bearing on this subject was lately put
by Mr. Carl Schurz to a society connected with Harvard University:—"But
when that stock of virgin lands has passed into private ownership; when
the poor find themselves confronted with the same difficulties with which
they have to struggle in older countries, while the rich relentlessly use
their advantages to increase their wealth—all the more relentlessly as the
accumulation of riches will have bred habits of profligate luxury and
insatiable, selfish indulgence—what then?" Yes, indeed, what then?
It is too late now to reverse a policy which will in due course alienate
almost every foot of the public lands of America. Daring political
speculators, however, are already propagating the theory that land should
be common property, that the State should own and control it, and that the
present proprietors should be compelled to relinquish it without any
compensation whatever. These ideas of Henry George, advocated with
rare ability, are supported by a class which is at present small, but
which may in course of time increase prodigiously in numbers. But
there is one serious objection even to the ultimate success of the
principles propounded in "Progress and Poverty." Since the present
proprietors have bought their farms and holdings from the nation, the
nation would outrage every sentiment of justice if it were to reclaim them
without at least some fair system of exchange. On the other hand,
any attempt to repurchase the properties which the State has voluntarily
sold on its own terms would require such a fabulous command of money, and
such a wonderful amount of financial skill, that the scheme may be
pronounced chimerical. So, then, the mistake of the founders of the
Republic will have to be pursued to the end, unless, indeed, in the
meantime, some new and unexpected project should be conceived to avert the
threatened danger.
Some centuries may have to elapse before the citizens of the
United States will be called upon to face the graver evils whose seeds
have been implanted by a mistaken policy in regard to the soil. It
has been computed that the territories of the United States are vast
enough and rich enough to support a population of 300,000,000 of people.
Even at the rapid rate of progress which is the normal condition of things
under the exhilarating climate of the West, very many years must be
consumed before the New World becomes as populated as the Old, though it
must not be forgotten that the natural increase of the native population
is being supplemented by enormous arrivals from other parts of the globe.
Ample time is therefore afforded for the discovery of a new system and the
development of a new race on the American continent. As to a new
system, there are at present no clear indications of anything of the sort;
for the American mind does not appear to give itself much trouble about
political utopias or social paradises. The prospects of a new race
are brighter than the prospects of a new system. Much was said about
miscegenation during the war between North and South. When the black
races became thoroughly amalgamated with the white, as must happen in the
course of ages, the belief was expressed that a higher type of people
would be produced than even the one or the other. If there be any
virtue in the mixture of races, there is certain to be developed in the
United States an entirely new variety of mankind. The older
countries of the world are being laid under contribution to this end.
Since time began no such process of miscegenation has been witnessed as
that which is now being worked out in America. Germans, Spaniards,
Italians, Russians, Frenchmen, Scandinavians, natives of the British
Isles—all are mixing with Africans, Mongols, and fragments of the
indigenous population, in such a way that the like of it will probably
never be seen on this globe again. Already the climate of the
country and the circumstances of the situation are producing a distinct
nation, more unlike that from which the original founders of the Republic
sprang than France is unlike Germany or Germany is unlike Russia.
When, then, the great amalgamation has been completed, when all the
elements that constitute American society have been thoroughly worked up
together—kneaded, as it were, into one homogeneous batch—it must
necessarily follow that the character of the new production will be
totally different, and, let us hope, infinitely superior, to anything that
has yet been seen under the sun.
If we restrict our speculations as to the future within a
moderate compass of time, we shall discern signs of equal hopefulness for
the States. The common schools of the Republic are binding the
people together as no other nation has ever been bound before. The
rich man and the poor man are better known to each other in America than
they are anywhere else in the world. Indeed, the distinction of
riches and of poverty constitutes scarcely any barrier whatever to social
and personal intercourse. The equality which exists in American
society is infinitely more real than persons living in Europe can
understand. What divisions and classes prevail have neither the same
meaning nor the same effect that they have among older societies.
The pride of rank does not exist at all, and even the pride of wealth
affects very little the course of the national life. With political
equality, with absolute religious equality, with a nearer approach to
social equality than exists anywhere else on earth, the personal comfort
and the individual dignity of American citizens are in no way and at no
time disturbed by artificial restraints or unnatural restrictions.
So many advantages are enjoyed by the American people—material
prosperity, equal rights, freedom of social intercourse, chances and
opportunities which have never been surpassed—that the student of society
cannot look forward through the mists of ages without a feeling of
satisfaction and confidence.
Poets familiar with America, though not natives of her soil,
have paid honour and homage to her virtues and her renown. Few have
rendered this tribute with more pathos or fervour than John Boyle
O'Reilly, perhaps the most gifted Irishman in the States. Mr.
O'Reilly recited a poem on this pregnant theme at the réunion
of the Army of the Potomac, held at Detroit on June 14, 1882. After
surveying the condition of the continent of Europe, covered with
fortresses and bristling with bayonets, the poet depicted the state and
strength of America, "whose only camps are cities of the dead"—the dead
who lie in common graves along the heights of Arlington:—
But turn our eyes from those oppressive lands:
Behold, one country all defenceless stands,
One nation-continent, from east to west,
With riches heaped upon her bounteous breast;
Her mines, her marts, her skill of hand and brain,
That bring Aladdin's dream to light again!
Where sleep the conquerors? Here is chance for spoil:
Such unwatched fields, such endless, thoughtless toil!
Vain dream of olden time! The robber strength
That swept its will is overmatched at length.
Here, not with words, but smiles, the people greet
The foreign spy in harbour, granary, street;
Here towns unguarded lie, for here alone
Nor caste, nor Icing, nor privilege is known.
For home the farmer ploughs, the miner delves,
A land of toilers, toiling for themselves;
A land of cities, which no fortress shields,
Whose open streets reach out to fertile fields;
Whose roads are shaken by no armies' tread;
Whose only camps are cities of the dead! |
CHAPTER XXXIII.
"TO CANADA"—THE NIAGARA FALLS—"A PERPETUAL FOURTH OF
JULY"—THE FALLS BY MOONLIGHT, SUNLIGHT, AND ELECTRIC LIGHT—THE WHIRLPOOL
RAPIDS—THE "MAID OF THE MIST" "AND WHAT'S TO HINDER IT?"—AN INTERNATIONAL
PARK—A WORKING MAN MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT—"WE ARE THE PEOPLE"—HAMILTON—"OLD
MAN FREEMAN"—JOHN ANDERSON—TORONTO—AVENUES AND BOULEVARDS—THE FENIAN
INVASION—CANADIAN PATRIOTISM—GOLDWIN SMITH—LONDON, ONTARIO—REPUTATION OF
CANADA.
"TO Canada!" The appearance of this
inscription on a fingerpost in the United States has a curious effect,
especially as our American colonies are even more enormous in area than
the territories of the Republic itself, extending, as they do, from the
Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the Lakes to the Arctic Regions.
The fingerpost indicated, not the road to any particular town or village,
but the road to one of the great dependencies of the British Crown.
It was almost as if somebody had put up a signboard in Asia to point out,
in an indefinite kind of way, the route to Africa. But the
information conveyed by the fingerpost erected in the village of Niagara
was correct enough. The street to which it directed the notice of a
stranger led to the Suspension Bridge across the Niagara River,
overlooking, though at some distance, the wonderful cataracts.
The Niagara Falls, which everybody who visits America goes to
see, have been so often described that I shall not myself add much to the
literature of the subject. The great chain of lakes which partly
separates the United States from Canada, penetrates the continent for
considerably more than a thousand miles. These lakes flow one into
the other, and so drain themselves through the Gulf of St. Lawrence into
the Atlantic Ocean. The elevation of Lake Erie is very much higher
than that of Lake Ontario. Hence the river which connects the one
lake with the other has to make a rapid descent from the higher to the
lower level. Precipitated over precipices varying from 149 to 162
feet high, the Niagara River, near the village of that name, forms the
Niagara Falls, down which, it is computed, 710,000 tons of water are
projected every minute! As the river approaches the precipice, it is
divided by Goat Island. There are, therefore, two great falls, one
called the American and the other the Horse Shoe or Canadian Falls.
The latter is the more picturesque. It is the common experience of
travellers, I believe, that the first sight of the phenomenon causes a
feeling of disappointment. I shared the common experience. The
falls, as I saw them from a distance, struck me as being a little
insignificant. When, however, I had time to go near them, to examine
them in detail, to survey them from below, and to endeavour even to get
partially behind them, they became more and more impressive and majestic.
The lovely colour of the water as it plunges into the abyss, the incessant
and deafening roar it produces, the clouds of spray which are sent high up
into the heavens, saturating everything in the neighbourhood as if it were
exposed to continual rainfall—all make Niagara a spectacle to be
remembered for ever. Owing to a chasm in the centre of the Horse
Shoe, which chasm, I understand, is of recent formation, the spray is ever
and anon thrown up in enormous jets and points of exactly the appearance
of rockets, thus furnishing, as an American writer has observed, "a
perpetual Fourth of July." I saw the falls under peculiar and
favourable conditions—by sunlight, moonlight, and electric light.
From the Canadian and American banks of the river, numerous and powerful
streams of electric illumination were poured upon the falling flood; but
though these streams lit up with beautiful effect sections of the falls,
they totally failed to give the observer the least notion of the general
extent. But more extraordinary, to my mind, than even the falls
themselves are the Whirlpool Rapids, some three or four miles below them.
The river, after leaving the falls, pursues a tolerably placid career
between the precipitous banks which enclose it till a narrower channel is
reached; then it rushes with such marvellous force and impetuosity through
the gorge that an extraordinary phenomenon is produced. From some
cause or other, apparently the impact of the water against the rocks on
either side, the river bulges up in the middle, giving it an arched or
rounded appearance. It is estimated that the difference in the
height of the stream in the centre and at the sides is not less than eight
or ten feet. Through this fearful flood a party of daring men
undertook to guide a little steamboat, the Maid of the Mist. They
succeeded in accomplishing the feat; but one of them received such a shock
to his nervous system that he died soon afterwards. It was here,
too, that Captain Webb had his life literally crushed out by the awful
forces he encountered in the foolish attempt to swim through the Rapids
and the Whirlpool beyond. Among the numerous stories of Niagara is
one which records how a matter-of-fact Irishman regarded the marvel.
"Is it not wonderful?" asked a gentleman standing near him. "What is
wonderful?" he asked in return. "Why, that vast body of water
falling over those cliffs." "Sure," exclaimed the Irishman, "and
what's to hinder it?"
The water privileges of Niagara River above the falls are of
course of immense value. Every foot of ground in American territory
from which a view of the falls can be obtained has been bought up and
enclosed. It thus happens that there is no spot in the United States
which commands a prospect of one of the wonders of the world without the
visitor being required to pay for the enjoyment of the sight. It is
otherwise and better in Canada: for there a high road runs alongside the
river in full, free view of both falls. Let it be said to the credit
of the Americans that a strong and vigorous demand has been made for
removing both the obstructions to free access to the falls and the
unsightly erections which deface the natural beauty of the surrounding
district. Some time ago, the Canadian Government made a proposition
to the Government of the State of New York that the land on both sides of
the falls should be purchased by the public for the purpose of forming the
whole neighbourhood into an international park, free and accessible to the
whole world. Negotiations to that end were commenced by Lord
Dufferin with a former Governor of New York State. The Legislature
of the State was on the point of passing the necessary measure, when a
later Governor, Mr. Alonzo B. Cornell, with the approval and assistance of
the leader of Tammany Hall, interposed to defeat it. Now, however,
that Mr. Cleveland has succeeded Mr. Cornell, the effort to accomplish a
great and desirable enterprise has been successful. Under the
provisions of a bill which passed the New York Legislature in the spring
of the present year, a commission has been appointed to carry out the
object in view. It is proposed to purchase for the free use of the
public a strip of all the land, varying from 50 to 150 yards wide, which
commands a prospect of the rapids and the falls, besides all the islands
above the falls between the Canadian boundary and the American shore.
There is thus every chance of a satisfactory settlement of the matter.
Several gentlemen belonging to Hamilton made the few days I
spent in that part of the American continent alike pleasant and
instructive. Mr. H. B. Witton, who showed me all the points of
interest both in that city and in Toronto, was, I believe, the first
working man who ever entered a British Parliament, his election for
Hamilton preceding by a short time the election of Mr. Burt for Morpeth.
The popular party in Ontario is, it appears, strongly imbued with
protectionist notions. It was this party which elected Mr. Witton,
who, by reason of his ability and his accomplishments, was in every
respect worthy of the confidence reposed in him. But there was
another party concerned in a recent election about which a gentleman
formerly connected with the Hamilton press told me an amusing story.
The candidate selected by it declared of himself and his friends, "We are
the people." When he was defeated at the poll—rather badly defeated,
too, I believe—he was rallied on the subject of his previous declaration.
"Yes, sir," he said, "we are the people; but there are too few of us!"
The gentleman who related this anecdote mentioned a fact highly creditable
to the citizens of Hamilton. The governor of the city gaol, he said,
had remarked in conversation with him that he sometimes wondered why the
Government continued to pay him his salary, since the prison under his
charge was almost empty. Mr. Witton assured me that Hamilton, and
indeed all Canadian cities, were not only remarkable for the absence of
crime, but for the absence of municipal corruption of any kind—an immunity
which he attributed to the refusal of the citizens to mix up general
politics with their local affairs. Hamilton has still another claim
to honourable respect. It was the residence of "old man Freeman"—to
use a phrase current in that part of the world—who fought at his own
expense the case of John Anderson, the fugitive slave. Anderson, it
may be remembered, had slain his owner, a Southern planter of the name of
Seneca Digges, and had then escaped into Canada. The extradition of
the fugitive was demanded by the United States Government, then controlled
by the Slave Power; but Lawyer Freeman defended Anderson, contended that
the crime was committed in the attempt to regain his natural right to
liberty, and succeeded in convincing the Canadian judges that they were
not justified in restoring him to the hands of his pursuers.
The situation and surroundings of Hamilton are remarkably
pleasant and attractive. Like almost all other cities on the
American continent, Hamilton is entirely free from that peculiar
exclusiveness which distinguishes our own towns. No man who owns a
beautiful garden thinks it necessary to his own enjoyment of it that he
should exclude it from the gaze of the public. The view of the city
from Hamilton Mountain, with the broad waters of Lake Ontario close at
hand, is charming in the extreme. Equally delightful is the aspect
of Toronto, the capital of the province, a few miles away. Stately
public buildings of various kinds—Colleges, Courts of Law, and Houses of
Parliament—adorn the city. The avenues of Toronto, though less
extensive than those of Chicago, are equally imposing. College
Avenue, leading to the University, is a magnificent thoroughfare, nearly a
mile long, a hundred feet wide, and lined with a double border of handsome
trees. Spadina Avenue is a still broader thoroughfare, being no
fewer than 160 feet in width. A movement is now on foot to encircle
the city, after the manner of Chicago, with a series of parks and
boulevards. The University stands in a lovely park of its own, which
is joined to another, called the Queen's Park. There is in the
latter estate a colossal marble statue of Britannia, which was erected to
the memory of the volunteers who died in 1866 during the Fenian invasion
of the Dominion. The view of Toronto and its suburbs from the tower
of the University, under an atmosphere so marvellously clear that every
object within the range of vision is distinctly visible, is almost
unequalled for picturesque beauty. A sister of Thomas Carlyle's
resides in Hamilton; while Toronto is the residence of two persons well
known in the old country. One of them—Alexander Somerville, the
"whistler at the plough"—is now an old man, past all further service to
the popular cause. E dward Hanlan, the most wonderful rower that ever
pulled an oar, is the proprietor of an hotel which is situated on a narrow
sandy island in Lake Ontario, a short distance from the shore.
The monument to the volunteers in Queen's Park is only one of
many indications of the patriotic spirit of the Canadian people. I
had expected to find that there were at least some among the Canadians
disposed to favour the annexation of the provinces to the United States.
So far from this being the case, however, I found that the idea was not
only repudiated, but resented as a sort of insult. Knowing that Mr.
Goldwin Smith had advocated the separation of the colonies from the mother
country, and knowing also that he had some connection with Toronto, I
happened to allude to him in conversation with two of the officials of the
University. I shall not soon forget the indignation both gentlemen
expressed the moment they heard Mr. Smith's name mentioned. Had he
been a traitor to his country of the worst type, they could hardly have
been more vehement in their denunciation of the proposal with which his
name is identified. If these gentlemen represent the prevailing
feeling of the people, there is not much likelihood, during the present
generation at least, of any separatist movement meeting with the smallest
countenance in our North American dependencies. It was clear to me,
from all I saw and heard, that the Canadians were proud of their
connection with the British Empire. There was, too, in the speech
and appearance of the colonists a much greater resemblance to the people
of the old country than I noticed among the people of the United States.
Boston is the most English city in the Republic; but even the experience I
had in Boston did not remind me of England in anything like the same
degree as the intercourse I had with our fellow-subjects in Canada.
Americans themselves are apt to praise Canada at the expense of their own
country. When travelling by railway from Chicago to Hamilton, the
train stopped for a short time at the city of London, which is situated on
a river called the Thames, and which boasts of a public building built in
imitation of Windsor Castle. Among my fellow-travellers was an
American citizen who was visiting Canada for the first time. The
appearance of a dignitary of the Church, clad in episcopal costume,
astonished him greatly; but he soon forgot his astonishment in praise of
the greater genuineness of things in the British dependency.
"Clothes are clothes in Canada, and not shoddy," he said; "and boots are
boots, and not paper." Whether this admiration for another nation
arose from the natural desire of some people to disparage their own
country and their own institutions, I could not of course say; but the
incident afforded an indication of the repute which Canada has acquired
even among its neighbours. There cannot be the least doubt, in any
event, of the thorough loyalty of the Canadian provinces.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
ENGLAND AND AMERICA—HIBERNIAN HATRED OF ENGLAND—JOHN F.
FINERTY—THE ASSASSINATIONS IN PHŒNIX
PARK—"GREAT BRITAIN UNDERSTANDS PERFECTLY WELL HOW TO MANAGE HER OWN
AFFAIRS"—MR. LOWELL—"WE TAKE NO ACCOUNT OF ISLANDS"—POSITION OF THE
BRITISH ISLES—GENERAL SCHOFIELD—ENGLISH ATTITUDE DURING THE WAR OF
SECESSION—EFFECTS OF ALABAMA AWARD AND SYMPATHY WITH PRESIDENT
GARFIELD—COMMODORE TATTNALL: "BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER"—LAST WORDS.
JOHN F. FINERTY, formerly an
officer in the Federal army, and now a member of the Federal Congress for
one of the districts of Illinois, publishes an Irish paper in Chicago,
with these words for its motto:—"Europe, not England, the Mother Country
of America." The object of inculcating this historic theory is of
course to expel from the American mind the idea that there is anything
more in common between England and America than there is between America
and any other part of Europe. The doctrine taught by Mr. Finerty's
paper, together with the general tone of all the other Irish papers
published in the United States, proves the existence of a deep and
implacable feeling of resentment and hatred against England on the part of
the great bulk of the Hibernian element in that country.
I have mentioned the name of Mr. Finerty, because I happen to
have made the acquaintance of that gentleman when he was on a visit to
Washington in the summer of 1882. It was in the office of a
newspaper correspondent that I was introduced to him. The
announcement of the fact that I had the misfortune to belong to England
had a strange and startling effect. Mr. Finerty immediately
commenced an eloquent and powerful tirade against my unhappy country.
The speaker was tremendously in earnest; the language in which he clothed
his denunciations was striking and effective; and the passion he imported
into his deliverances clearly showed, not only that Mr. Finerty was no
ordinary man, but that his patriotic fervour was beyond doubt or question.
Nevertheless, the scene could not be otherwise than painful to an
Englishman who was also endowed with some patriotic instincts. But
as life would not be worth living if one were to expend it in everlasting
wrangles, I concluded to hold my peace. Nor did I utter a protest,
even when my Irish friend justified and commended the assassinations in Phœnix
Park, which were then fresh in everybody's mind. When I met Mr.
Finerty the next day (we were sailing down the Potomac together, bent on a
pilgrimage to Washington's home at Mount Vernon), I reaped the reward of
the discreet silence I had maintained on my first introduction to him.
Mr. Finerty was no longer the terrible Anglophobist, but a pleasant and
accomplished acquaintance. As I have said, he had served in the
Federal army during the great struggle between North and South. The
voyage down the Potomac and back again was therefore rendered all the more
interesting from Mr. Finerty's description of some of the exciting events
which had occurred in the course of the conflict on the banks of that
majestic stream. [23]
The incident that happened in the office of the newspaper
correspondent furnished an illustration of the prevailing sentiments among
American people in regard to the quarrel between England and Ireland.
Not one of the gentlemen who listened to the really well-delivered periods
of Mr. Finerty sympathised with that gentleman's attack. No sooner
had he left the room, indeed, than one of them hastened to allay any
apprehension that might have been aroused as to the possibility of a
quarrel occurring between England and America on account of the Irish
trouble. "You may take it from me who know something of the
sentiments of the statesmen and legislators in Washington—you may take it
from me," he said, "that nine-tenths of the public men of this country are
quite satisfied that Great Britain understands perfectly well how to
manage her own affairs." Nor was this the only assurance imparted to
me of the disposition of the American Government and the American people
to remain on good terms with the old country. A loud outcry was at
that time being raised in a certain portion of the press for the recall of
Mr. Lowell, the United States Minister in London, on account of his
supposed, apathy in not demanding the release of Irish-Americans who had
been thrown into prison in Ireland on "reasonable suspicion of crime."
"Rest assured," I was told over and over again, when the subject was
mentioned in conversation, "that Mr. Lowell will not be recalled."
Whether or not there was any just cause of complaint against his
Excellency, the fact remains that he is still the honoured representative
of the Republic in London.
The peculiar position of the British Islands, and the
consequent difficulties which surround the relations of the English and
the Irish people, are not, I think, generally understood in the United
States. There is a humorous story of a Boston school-mistress, who,
when she was asked to point out Great Britain on a map of Europe which she
had drawn, is said to have answered, "Oh, we take no account of islands!"
Of course it is impossible to appreciate the political position of the
United Kingdom without knowing also something of its geographical
position. If Ireland, as Mr. Bright put it many years ago, could be
removed from her moorings three thousand miles to the west, our troubles
with that country would soon be at an end. The separation of the
islands by a very much smaller distance than that mentioned by Mr. Bright
would suffice for the purpose. It is only because Ireland is so
closely contiguous to England that the independence of the one is utterly
incompatible with the independence of the other—it is only because of
this, probably, that England has not long since assented to the separation
which Irish patriots are demanding.
So far as I was able to judge from what I saw and heard, it
seemed to me that this peculiar feature of the situation in the British
Isles was rarely considered, and still more rarely understood, by those
Americans who discussed in the press, on the platform, or in the Senate
the affairs of the mother country. One American citizen, however,
with whom I had the pleasure of conversing on topics of an international
character, saw clearly the actual state of matters. I allude to
General Schofield, who earned a distinguished name in the military annals
of the struggle which terminated in the abolition of slavery.
"England's position," he said to me, "is precisely like ours during the
war. When I was in command of Missouri, I told the people of that
section that much as we loved them, and much as we wished to live on
kindly terms with them, I would reduce their entire territory to a state
of nature rather than allow them to secede from the Union." The
integrity of the Republic was necessary for the preservation of the
Republic. General Schofield is probably not alone among the leading
men of America in seeing that the same principle applies to the United
Kingdom.
The comments of American newspapers on British affairs
indicate at times a strange ignorance of the facts of the case, of the
ideas which penetrate them, and, above all, of the sentiments which
animate the people concerned. Moreover, there is now and then a
certain flippancy of tone in some of the references to the old country
which makes American journals not altogether pleasant reading to an
English traveller. Nor was it more pleasant to read, as I did in a
speech which the Hon. William D. Kelley had delivered in Congress on the
Tariff Question, and a copy of which the author had sent to me in
Washington, that England was "the vampire of nations." [24]
But the ignorance of English affairs that distinguishes American
newspapers is not greater than the ignorance of American affairs which was
displayed by English newspapers at the time of the great war. The
actual and undoubted attitude of the people of this country towards the
parties to that conflict is even yet misunderstood by Americans generally.
When I had occasion to explain that our newspapers did not reflect the
real sentiments of the nation on the merits of Federals and Confederates,
and when I called attention to the fact that not more than a dozen public
meetings had passed resolutions of sympathy with the South; whereas
hundreds of public meetings, many of them among the largest ever held in
the country, had passed resolutions of sympathy with the North, the
statement in almost every instance seemed to come in the nature of a
surprise to the persons to whom the information was imparted. The
inability of Americans to dissociate the English people from the views
advocated in the English press is not at all wonderful, seeing that it was
only through the press that they could at that time form any idea of the
feelings which prevailed in England.
The misunderstanding which arose between the two peoples in
consequence of the hostile attitude the English press assumed towards the
Federal Government and the Federal cause continued long after the close of
the strife which originated it. Such was the resentment which
Americans felt on account of the support the wealthier classes in England
had afforded to the Southern rebellion that it would have required a very
little breeze to fan the embers of bitterness into a flame of open war.
I was assured, however, that public feeling in the States has now
undergone a complete change. This change was attributed to two
circumstances—the settlement of the Alabama question and the public
sympathy which the assassination of President Garfield had evoked
throughout England. The prompt payment of the Geneva Award had
removed all cause of difficulty between the two countries, while the
universal expression of indignation and regard which had been tendered to
the American Government after the commission of Guiteau's crime, and
especially the letter which Queen Victoria, with true womanly instinct,
had written to Mrs. Garfield, had reawakened all the old feelings of
affection which the younger country entertained for the elder. So
strong is now the desire of the American people to remain on friendly and
cordial terms with England, that the main cause of the popular
satisfaction with the retirement of Mr. Blaine, as an eminent lawyer of
Boston informed me, was the apprehension that the policy of that statesman
would sooner or later eventuate in a quarrel with England. "Blaine
is now," said he, "a dead cock in a pit." One of the most notable
incidents in connection with the centennial anniversary of the surrender
of Yorktown was the honours that were there and then paid to the British
flag. If other proof were wanting of the cordial feeling existing in
America towards England, it would perhaps be found in the sentiment which
was drunk at a banquet given by prominent citizens of New York to Sir
Edward M. Archbold, the late British Consul in that city—"Two Nations
which God has put together no man can put asunder."
The difficulty which Americans sometimes find in appreciating
the conduct and policy of England was brought forcibly to my mind by the
tone of public feeling in the States when the massacre of Alexandria
occurred in 1882. The sneering comments of the press as to what the
writers considered the want of decision and enterprise of the English
Government was reflected in the conversation of the people. Over and
over again, when discussion turned on the Egyptian Question, some such
remarks as these were addressed to me: "Englishmen have been slaughtered
by wholesale in the streets of Alexandria. Why in thunder don't the
Government punish the murderers? The old country must be played out.
If she allows herself to be insulted in this manner by a pack of rascally
Arabs, she will have to take a back seat among the nations of the earth."
When afterwards the British fleet did take the matter in hand, some of the
newspapers querulously complained of what had been done, and even unfairly
insinuated that the fleet had bombarded and burned Alexandria; although,
as a matter of fact, it had only attacked the forts which menaced it.
This captious kind of criticism indicated nothing more than the desire of
the American people that England should exhibit some of the energy and
alacrity they themselves would probably have displayed in similar
circumstances. It was more in pity than in anger that they
complained of what they considered the remissness and indecision of the
old country. So interpreted, all their complaints and criticisms may
be ascribed to a genuine esteem for their ancient kindred. As a
young man may regard his grandfather, lamenting his weakness while
respecting his age, so may America be said to regard England. The
fact that the commander of an American ship in the harbour of Alexandria
rendered some little assistance to the British fleet was repeatedly
mentioned in my hearing with pride and admiration. Time and again
similar evidences have been afforded of the interchange of courtesies
between the two nations. When a British fleet was engaged in warlike
operations in China, an American commander went to its aid, justifying his
proceeding in the matter with the historic exclamation, "Blood is thicker
than water." [25] The sentiment that inspired
this action would probably inspire the entire American people, should the
old country ever find herself in need of help to preserve her existence or
maintain her authority.
No greater calamity could befall the world, no trouble could
arise more calculated to check the progress of mankind, than a struggle
between two of the greatest and most advanced nations on the face of the
globe. Such a calamity, imminent as it appeared twenty years ago, is
not now likely to occur. The real feeling of America towards England
finds expression, not in the small criticisms of the public journals, but
in the significant actions of American captains in foreign waters.
Even the disputes that have lately come to the surface in respect to
extradition and other matters are not calculated to disturb the placid
current of our friendly relations, since blood must always remain so much
thicker than water.
___________________________
Little more remains to be said. I have endeavoured to
give as fair and impartial an account of America as my limited
opportunities of judging, and my still more limited powers of description,
have enabled me to do it. The reader will have noticed that I have
neither uniformly praised nor uniformly disparaged the great country that
has been my theme. I found in America, as I find in England, many
things that society would do better and be better without. If it
were possible to take all the good one finds here and add it to all the
good one finds there, one might be able to construct a nobler, more
wholesome, and more hopeful society than exists now in either country.
Such evils as have undoubtedly secured a lodgement in the polity of the
great Republic are, however, as small dust in the balance compared with
the grander features of the country. Certainly I shall not soon
forget three things that came within my experience—the wonderful courtesy
of the people, the utter absence of restraint or formality in connection
with the institutions of the land, and, above all, the amazing energy and
enterprise which Americans everywhere import into the varied affairs of
life. Nevertheless, I never returned to the old country with greater
love and admiration for it than when I returned from that Greater Britain
beyond the Atlantic. |