3: What Is An American?
<< 2: On The Situation, Feelings, and Pleasures, of An American Farmer || 4: Description of the Island of Nantucket, with the Manners, Customs, Policy, and Trade of the Inhabitants >>
I wish I could be acquainted with the feelings and thoughts which
must agitate the heart and present themselves to the mind of an
enlightened Englishman, when he first lands on this continent. He
must greatly rejoice that he lived at a time to see this fair
country discovered and settled; he must necessarily feel a share of
national pride, when he views the chain of settlements which
embellishes these extended shores. When he says to himself, this is
the work of my countrymen, who, when convulsed by factions,
afflicted by a variety of miseries and wants, restless and
impatient, took refuge here. They brought along with them their
national genius, to which they principally owe what liberty they
enjoy, and what substance they possess. Here he sees the industry of
his native country displayed in a new manner, and traces in their
works the embryos of all the arts, sciences, and ingenuity which
nourish in Europe. Here he beholds fair cities, substantial
villages, extensive fields, an immense country filled with decent
houses, good roads, orchards, meadows, and bridges, where an hundred
years ago all was wild, woody, and uncultivated! What a train of
pleasing ideas this fair spectacle must suggest; it is a prospect
which must inspire a good citizen with the most heartfelt pleasure.
The difficulty consists in the manner of viewing so extensive a
scene. He is arrived on a new continent; a modern society offers
itself to his contemplation, different from what he had hitherto
seen. It is not composed, as in Europe, of great lords who possess
everything, and of a herd of people who have nothing. Here are no
aristocratical families, no courts, no kings, no bishops, no
ecclesiastical dominion, no invisible power giving to a few a very
visible one; no great manufacturers employing thousands, no great
refinements of luxury. The rich and the poor are not so far removed
from each other as they are in Europe. Some few towns excepted, we
are all tillers of the earth, from Nova Scotia to West Florida. We
are a people of cultivators, scattered over an immense territory,
communicating with each other by means of good roads and navigable
rivers, united by the silken bands of mild government, all
respecting the laws, without dreading their power, because they are
equitable. We are all animated with the spirit of an industry which
is unfettered and unrestrained, because each person works for
himself. If he travels through our rural districts he views not the
hostile castle, and the haughty mansion, contrasted with the clay-
built hut and miserable cabin, where cattle and men help to keep
each other warm, and dwell in meanness, smoke, and indigence. A
pleasing uniformity of decent competence appears throughout our
habitations. The meanest of our log-houses is a dry and comfortable
habitation. Lawyer or merchant are the fairest titles our towns
afford; that of a farmer is the only appellation of the rural
inhabitants of our country. It must take some time ere he can
reconcile himself to our dictionary, which is but short in words of
dignity, and names of honour. There, on a Sunday, he sees a
congregation of respectable farmers and their wives, all clad in
neat homespun, well mounted, or riding in their own humble waggons.
There is not among them an esquire, saving the unlettered
magistrate. There he sees a parson as simple as his flock, a farmer
who does not riot on the labour of others. We have no princes, for
whom we toil, starve, and bleed: we are the most perfect society now
existing in the world. Here man is free as he ought to be; nor is
this pleasing equality so transitory as many others are. Many ages
will not see the shores of our great lakes replenished with inland
nations, nor the unknown bounds of North America entirely peopled.
Who can tell how far it extends? Who can tell the millions of men
whom it will feed and contain? for no European foot has as yet
travelled half the extent of this mighty continent!
The next wish of this traveller will be to know whence came all
these people? they are a mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French,
Dutch, Germans, and Swedes. From this promiscuous breed, that race
now called Americans have arisen. The eastern provinces must indeed
be excepted, as being the unmixed descendants of Englishmen. I have
heard many wish that they had been more intermixed also: for my
part, I am no wisher, and think it much better as it has happened.
They exhibit a most conspicuous figure in this great and variegated
picture; they too enter for a great share in the pleasing
perspective displayed in these thirteen provinces. I know it is
fashionable to reflect on them, but I respect them for what they
have done; for the accuracy and wisdom with which they have settled
their territory; for the decency of their manners; for their early
love of letters; their ancient college, the first in this
hemisphere; for their industry; which to me who am but a farmer, is
the criterion of everything. There never was a people, situated as
they are, who with so ungrateful a soil have done more in so short a
time. Do you think that the monarchical ingredients which are more
prevalent in other governments, have purged them from all foul
stains? Their histories assert the contrary.
In this great American asylum, the poor of Europe have by some means
met together, and in consequence of various causes; to what purpose
should they ask one another what countrymen they are? Alas, two
thirds of them had no country. Can a wretch who wanders about, who
works and starves, whose life is a continual scene of sore
affliction or pinching penury; can that man call England or any
other kingdom his country? A country that had no bread for him,
whose fields procured him no harvest, who met with nothing but the
frowns of the rich, the severity of the laws, with jails and
punishments; who owned not a single foot of the extensive surface of
this planet? No! urged by a variety of motives, here they came.
Every thing has tended to regenerate them; new laws, a new mode of
living, a new social system; here they are become men: in Europe
they were as so many useless plants, wanting vegetative mould, and
refreshing showers; they withered, and were mowed down by want,
hunger, and war; but now by the power of transplantation, like all
other plants they have taken root and flourished! Formerly they were
not numbered in any civil lists of their country, except in those of
the poor; here they rank as citizens. By what invisible power has
this surprising metamorphosis been performed? By that of the laws
and that of their industry. The laws, the indulgent laws, protect
them as they arrive, stamping on them the symbol of adoption; they
receive ample rewards for their labours; these accumulated rewards
procure them lands; those lands confer on them the title of freemen,
and to that title every benefit is affixed which men can possibly
require. This is the great operation daily performed by our laws.
From whence proceed these laws? From our government. Whence the
government? It is derived from the original genius and strong desire
of the people ratified and confirmed by the crown. This is the great
chain which links us all, this is the picture which every province
exhibits, Nova Scotia excepted.
There the crown has done all; either there were no people who had
genius, or it was not much attended to: the consequence is, that the
province is very thinly inhabited indeed; the power of the crown in
conjunction with the musketos has prevented men from settling there.
Yet some parts of it flourished once, and it contained a mild
harmless set of people. But for the fault of a few leaders, the
whole were banished. The greatest political error the crown ever
committed in America, was to cut off men from a country which wanted
nothing but men!
What attachment can a poor European emigrant have for a country
where he had nothing? The knowledge of the language, the love of a
few kindred as poor as himself, were the only cords that tied him:
his country is now that which gives him land, bread, protection, and
consequence: Ubi panis ibi patria, is the motto of all emigrants.
What then is the American, this new man? He is either an European,
or the descendant of an European, hence that strange mixture of
blood, which you will find in no other country. I could point out to
you a family whose grandfather was an Englishman, whose wife was
Dutch, whose son married a French woman, and whose present four sons
have now four wives of different nations. He is an American, who,
leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives
new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new
government he obeys, and the new rank he holds. He becomes an
American by being received in the broad lap of our great Alma Mater.
Here individuals of all nations are melted into a new race of men,
whose labours and posterity will one day cause great changes in the
world. Americans are the western pilgrims, who are carrying along
with them that great mass of arts, sciences, vigour, and industry
which began long since in the east; they will finish the great
circle. The Americans were once scattered all over Europe; here they
are incorporated into one of the finest systems of population which
has ever appeared, and which will hereafter become distinct by the
power of the different climates they inhabit. The American ought
therefore to love this country much better than that wherein either
he or his forefathers were born. Here the rewards of his industry
follow with equal steps the progress of his labour; his labour is
founded on the basis of nature, SELF-INTEREST: can it want a
stronger allurement? Wives and children, who before in vain demanded
of him a morsel of bread, now, fat and frolicsome, gladly help their
father to clear those fields whence exuberant crops are to arise to
feed and to clothe them all; without any part being claimed, either
by a despotic prince, a rich abbot, or a mighty lord. Here religion
demands but little of him; a small voluntary salary to the minister,
and gratitude to God; can he refuse these? The American is a new
man, who acts upon new principles; he must therefore entertain new
ideas, and form new opinions. From involuntary idleness, servile
dependence, penury, and useless labour, he has passed to toils of a
very different nature, rewarded by ample subsistence.—This is an
American.
British America is divided into many provinces, forming a large
association, scattered along a coast 1500 miles extent and about 200
wide. This society I would fain examine, at least such as it appears
in the middle provinces; if it does not afford that variety of
tinges and gradations which may be observed in Europe, we have
colours peculiar to ourselves. For instance, it is natural to
conceive that those who live near the sea, must be very different
from those who live in the woods; the intermediate space will afford
a separate and distinct class.
Men are like plants; the goodness and flavour of the fruit proceeds
from the peculiar soil and exposition in which they grow. We are
nothing but what we derive from the air we breathe, the climate we
inhabit, the government we obey, the system of religion we profess,
and the nature of our employment. Here you will find but few crimes;
these have acquired as yet no root among us. I wish I was able to
trace all my ideas; if my ignorance prevents me from describing them
properly, I hope I shall be able to delineate a few of the outlines,
which are all I propose.
Those who live near the sea, feed more on fish than on flesh, and
often encounter that boisterous element. This renders them more bold
and enterprising; this leads them to neglect the confined
occupations of the land. They see and converse with a variety of
people, their intercourse with mankind becomes extensive. The sea
inspires them with a love of traffic, a desire of transporting
produce from one place to another; and leads them to a variety of
resources which supply the place of labour. Those who inhabit the
middle settlements, by far the most numerous, must be very
different; the simple cultivation of the earth purifies them, but
the indulgences of the government, the soft remonstrances of
religion, the rank of independent freeholders, must necessarily
inspire them with sentiments, very little known in Europe among
people of the same class. What do I say? Europe has no such class of
men; the early knowledge they acquire, the early bargains they make,
give them a great degree of sagacity. As freemen they will be
litigious; pride and obstinacy are often the cause of law suits; the
nature of our laws and governments may be another. As citizens it is
easy to imagine, that they will carefully read the newspapers, enter
into every political disquisition, freely blame or censure governors
and others. As farmers they will be careful and anxious to get as
much as they can, because what they get is their own. As northern
men they will love the cheerful cup. As Christians, religion curbs
them not in their opinions; the general indulgence leaves every one
to think for themselves in spiritual matters; the laws inspect our
actions, our thoughts are left to God. Industry, good living,
selfishness, litigiousness, country politics, the pride of freemen,
religious indifference, are their characteristics. If you recede
still farther from the sea, you will come into more modern
settlements; they exhibit the same strong lineaments, in a ruder
appearance. Religion seems to have still less influence, and their
manners are less improved.
Now we arrive near the great woods, near the last inhabited
districts; there men seem to be placed still farther beyond the
reach of government, which in some measure leaves them to
themselves. How can it pervade every corner; as they were driven
there by misfortunes, necessity of beginnings, desire of acquiring
large tracts of land, idleness, frequent want of economy, ancient
debts; the re-union of such people does not afford a very pleasing
spectacle. When discord, want of unity and friendship; when either
drunkenness or idleness prevail in such remote districts;
contention, inactivity, and wretchedness must ensue. There are not
the same remedies to these evils as in a long established community.
The few magistrates they have, are in general little better than the
rest; they are often in a perfect state of war; that of man against
man, sometimes decided by blows, sometimes by means of the law; that
of man against every wild inhabitant of these venerable woods, of
which they are come to dispossess them. There men appear to be no
better than carnivorous animals of a superior rank, living on the
flesh of wild animals when they can catch them, and when they are
not able, they subsist on grain. He who would wish to see America in
its proper light, and have a true idea of its feeble beginnings and
barbarous rudiments, must visit our extended line of frontiers where
the last settlers dwell, and where he may see the first labours of
settlement, the mode of clearing the earth, in all their different
appearances; where men are wholly left dependent on their native
tempers, and on the spur of uncertain industry, which often fails
when not sanctified by the efficacy of a few moral rules. There,
remote from the power of example and check of shame, many families
exhibit the most hideous parts of our society. They are a kind of
forlorn hope, preceding by ten or twelve years the most respectable
army of veterans which come after them. In that space, prosperity
will polish some, vice and the law will drive off the rest, who
uniting again with others like themselves will recede still farther;
making room for more industrious people, who will finish their
improvements, convert the loghouse into a convenient habitation, and
rejoicing that the first heavy labours are finished, will change in
a few years that hitherto barbarous country into a fine fertile,
well regulated district. Such is our progress, such is the march of
the Europeans toward the interior parts of this continent. In all
societies there are off-casts; this impure part serves as our
precursors or pioneers; my father himself was one of that class, but
he came upon honest principles, and was therefore one of the few who
held fast; by good conduct and temperance, he transmitted to me his
fair inheritance, when not above one in fourteen of his
contemporaries had the same good fortune.
Forty years ago this smiling country was thus inhabited; it is now
purged, a general decency of manners prevails throughout, and such
has been the fate of our best countries.
Exclusive of those general characteristics, each province has its
own, founded on the government, climate, mode of husbandry, customs,
and peculiarity of circumstances. Europeans submit insensibly to
these great powers, and become, in the course of a few generations,
not only Americans in general, but either Pennsylvanians,
Virginians, or provincials under some other name. Whoever traverses
the continent must easily observe those strong differences, which
will grow more evident in time. The inhabitants of Canada,
Massachusetts, the middle provinces, the southern ones will be as
different as their climates; their only points of unity will be
those of religion and language.
As I have endeavoured to show you how Europeans become Americans; it
may not be disagreeable to show you likewise how the various
Christian sects introduced, wear out, and how religious indifference
becomes prevalent. When any considerable number of a particular sect
happen to dwell contiguous to each other, they immediately erect a
temple, and there worship the Divinity agreeably to their own
peculiar ideas. Nobody disturbs them. If any new sect springs up in
Europe it may happen that many of its professors will come and
settle in American. As they bring their zeal with them, they are at
liberty to make proselytes if they can, and to build a meeting and
to follow the dictates of their consciences; for neither the
government nor any other power interferes. If they are peaceable
subjects, and are industrious, what is it to their neighbours how
and in what manner they think fit to address their prayers to the
Supreme Being? But if the sectaries are not settled close together,
if they are mixed with other denominations, their zeal will cool for
want of fuel, and will be extinguished in a little time. Then the
Americans become as to religion, what they are as to country, allied
to all. In them the name of Englishman, Frenchman, and European is
lost, and in like manner, the strict modes of Christianity as
practised in Europe are lost also. This effect will extend itself
still farther hereafter, and though this may appear to you as a
strange idea, yet it is a very true one. I shall be able perhaps
hereafter to explain myself better; in the meanwhile, let the
following example serve as my first justification.
Let us suppose you and I to be travelling; we observe that in this
house, to the right, lives a Catholic, who prays to God as he has
been taught, and believes in transubstantiation; he works and raises
wheat, he has a large family of children, all hale and robust; his
belief, his prayers offend nobody. About one mile farther on the
same road, his next neighbour may be a good honest plodding German
Lutheran, who addresses himself to the same God, the God of all,
agreeably to the modes he has been educated in, and believes in
consubstantiation; by so doing he scandalises nobody; he also works
in his fields, embellishes the earth, clears swamps, etc. What has
the world to do with his Lutheran principles? He persecutes nobody,
and nobody persecutes him, he visits his neighbours, and his
neighbours visit him. Next to him lives a seceder, the most
enthusiastic of all sectaries; his zeal is hot and fiery, but
separated as he is from others of the same complexion, he has no
congregation of his own to resort to, where he might cabal and
mingle religious pride with worldly obstinacy. He likewise raises
good crops, his house is handsomely painted, his orchard is one of
the fairest in the neighbourhood. How does it concern the welfare of
the country, or of the province at large, what this man's religious
sentiments are, or really whether he has any at all? He is a good
farmer, he is a sober, peaceable, good citizen: William Penn himself
would not wish for more. This is the visible character, the
invisible one is only guessed at, and is nobody's business. Next
again lives a Low Dutchman, who implicitly believes the rules laid
down by the synod of Dort. He conceives no other idea of a clergyman
than that of an hired man; if he does his work well he will pay him
the stipulated sum; if not he will dismiss him, and do without his
sermons, and let his church be shut up for years. But
notwithstanding this coarse idea, you will find his house and farm
to be the neatest in all the country; and you will judge by his
waggon and fat horses, that he thinks more of the affairs of this
world than of those of the next. He is sober and laborious,
therefore he is all he ought to be as to the affairs of this life;
as for those of the next, he must trust to the great Creator. Each
of these people instruct their children as well as they can, but
these instructions are feeble compared to those which are given to
the youth of the poorest class in Europe. Their children will
therefore grow up less zealous and more indifferent in matters of
religion than their parents. The foolish vanity, or rather the fury
of making Proselytes, is unknown here; they have no time, the
seasons call for all their attention, and thus in a few years, this
mixed neighbourhood will exhibit a strange religious medley, that
will be neither pure Catholicism nor pure Calvinism. A very
perceptible indifference even in the first generation, will become
apparent; and it may happen that the daughter of the Catholic will
marry the son of the seceder, and settle by themselves at a distance
from their parents. What religious education will they give their
children? A very imperfect one. If there happens to be in the
neighbourhood any place of worship, we will suppose a Quaker's
meeting; rather than not show their fine clothes, they will go to
it, and some of them may perhaps attach themselves to that society.
Others will remain in a perfect state of indifference; the children
of these zealous parents will not be able to tell what their
religious principles are, and their grandchildren still less. The
neighbourhood of a place of worship generally leads them to it, and
the action of going thither, is the strongest evidence they can give
of their attachment to any sect. The Quakers are the only people who
retain a fondness for their own mode of worship; for be they ever so
far separated from each other, they hold a sort of communion with
the society, and seldom depart from its rules, at least in this
country. Thus all sects are mixed as well as all nations; thus
religious indifference is imperceptibly disseminated from one end of
the continent to the other; which is at present one of the strongest
characteristics of the Americans. Where this will reach no one can
tell, perhaps it may leave a vacuum fit to receive other systems.
Persecution, religious pride, the love of contradiction, are the
food of what the world commonly calls religion. These motives have
ceased here; zeal in Europe is confined; here it evaporates in the
great distance it has to travel; there it is a grain of powder
inclosed, here it burns away in the open air, and consumes without
effect.
But to return to our back settlers. I must tell you, that there is
something in the proximity of the woods, which is very singular. It
is with men as it is with the plants and animals that grow and live
in the forests; they are entirely different from those that live in
the plains. I will candidly tell you all my thoughts but you are not
to expect that I shall advance any reasons. By living in or near the
woods, their actions are regulated by the wildness of the
neighbourhood. The deer often come to eat their grain, the wolves to
destroy their sheep, the bears to kill their hogs, the foxes to
catch their poultry. This surrounding hostility immediately puts the
gun into their hands; they watch these animals, they kill some; and
thus by defending their property, they soon become professed
hunters; this is the progress; once hunters, farewell to the plough.
The chase renders them ferocious, gloomy, and unsociable; a hunter
wants no neighbour, he rather hates them, because he dreads the
competition. In a little time their success in the woods makes them
neglect their tillage. They trust to the natural fecundity of the
earth, and therefore do little; carelessness in fencing often
exposes what little they sow to destruction; they are not at home to
watch; in order therefore to make up the deficiency, they go oftener
to the woods. That new mode of life brings along with it a new set
of manners, which I cannot easily describe. These new manners being
grafted on the old stock, produce a strange sort of lawless
profligacy, the impressions of which are indelible. The manners of
the Indian natives are respectable, compared with this European
medley. Their wives and children live in sloth and inactivity; and
having no proper pursuits, you may judge what education the latter
receive. Their tender minds have nothing else to contemplate but the
example of their parents; like them they grow up a mongrel breed,
half civilised, half savage, except nature stamps on them some
constitutional propensities. That rich, that voluptuous sentiment is
gone that struck them so forcibly; the possession of their freeholds
no longer conveys to their minds the same pleasure and pride. To all
these reasons you must add, their lonely situation, and you cannot
imagine what an effect on manners the great distances they live from
each other has! Consider one of the last settlements in its first
view: of what is it composed? Europeans who have not that sufficient
share of knowledge they ought to have, in order to prosper; people
who have suddenly passed from oppression, dread of government, and
fear of laws, into the unlimited freedom of the woods. This sudden
change must have a very great effect on most men, and on that class
particularly. Eating of wild meat, whatever you may think, tends to
alter their temper: though all the proof I can adduce, is, that I
have seen it: and having no place of worship to resort to, what
little society this might afford is denied them. The Sunday
meetings, exclusive of religious benefits, were the only social
bonds that might have inspired them with some degree of emulation in
neatness. Is it then surprising to see men thus situated, immersed
in great and heavy labours, degenerate a little? It is rather a
wonder the effect is not more diffusive. The Moravians and the
Quakers are the only instances in exception to what I have advanced.
The first never settle singly, it is a colony of the society which
emigrates; they carry with them their forms, worship, rules, and
decency: the others never begin so hard, they are always able to buy
improvements, in which there is a great advantage, for by that time
the country is recovered from its first barbarity. Thus our bad
people are those who are half cultivators and half hunters; and the
worst of them are those who have degenerated altogether into the
hunting state. As old ploughmen and new men of the woods, as
Europeans and new made Indians, they contract the vices of both;
they adopt the moroseness and ferocity of a native, without his
mildness, or even his industry at home. If manners are not refined,
at least they are rendered simple and inoffensive by tilling the
earth; all our wants are supplied by it, our time is divided between
labour and rest, and leaves none for the commission of great
misdeeds. As hunters it is divided between the toil of the chase,
the idleness of repose, or the indulgence of inebriation. Hunting is
but a licentious idle life, and if it does not always pervert good
dispositions; yet, when it is united with bad luck, it leads to
want: want stimulates that propensity to rapacity and injustice, too
natural to needy men, which is the fatal gradation. After this
explanation of the effects which follow by living in the woods,
shall we yet vainly flatter ourselves with the hope of converting
the Indians? We should rather begin with converting our back-
settlers; and now if I dare mention the name of religion, its sweet
accents would be lost in the immensity of these woods. Men thus
placed are not fit either to receive or remember its mild
instructions; they want temples and ministers, but as soon as men
cease to remain at home, and begin to lead an erratic life, let them
be either tawny or white, they cease to be its disciples.
Thus have I faintly and imperfectly endeavoured to trace our society
from the sea to our woods! yet you must not imagine that every
person who moves back, acts upon the same principles, or falls into
the same degeneracy. Many families carry with them all their decency
of conduct, purity of morals, and respect of religion; but these are
scarce, the power of example is sometimes irresistible. Even among
these back-settlers, their depravity is greater or less, according
to what nation or province they belong. Were I to adduce proofs of
this, I might be accused of partiality. If there happens to be some
rich intervals, some fertile bottoms, in those remote districts, the
people will there prefer tilling the land to hunting, and will
attach themselves to it; but even on these fertile spots you may
plainly perceive the inhabitants to acquire a great degree of
rusticity and selfishness.
It is in consequence of this straggling situation, and the
astonishing power it has on manners, that the back-settlers of both
the Carolinas, Virginia, and many other parts, have been long a set
of lawless people; it has been even dangerous to travel among them.
Government can do nothing in so extensive a country, better it
should wink at these irregularities, than that it should use means
inconsistent with its usual mildness. Time will efface those stains:
in proportion as the great body of population approaches them they
will reform, and become polished and subordinate. Whatever has been
said of the four New England provinces, no such degeneracy of
manners has ever tarnished their annals; their back-settlers have
been kept within the bounds of decency, and government, by means of
wise laws, and by the influence of religion. What a detestable idea
such people must have given to the natives of the Europeans! They
trade with them, the worst of people are permitted to do that which
none but persons of the best characters should be employed in. They
get drunk with them, and often defraud the Indians. Their avarice,
removed from the eyes of their superiors, knows no bounds; and aided
by the little superiority of knowledge, these traders deceive them,
and even sometimes shed blood. Hence those shocking violations,
those sudden devastations which have so often stained our frontiers,
when hundreds of innocent people have been sacrificed for the crimes
of a few. It was in consequence of such behaviour, that the Indians
took the hatchet against the Virginians in 1774. Thus are our first
steps trod, thus are our first trees felled, in general, by the most
vicious of our people; and thus the path is opened for the arrival
of a second and better class, the true American freeholders; the
most respectable set of people in this part of the world:
respectable for their industry, their happy independence, the great
share of freedom they possess, the good regulation of their
families, and for extending the trade and the dominion of our mother
country.
Europe contains hardly any other distinctions but lords and tenants;
this fair country alone is settled by freeholders, the possessors of
the soil they cultivate, members of the government they obey, and
the framers of their own laws, by means of their representatives.
This is a thought which you have taught me to cherish; our
difference from Europe, far from diminishing, rather adds to our
usefulness and consequence as men and subjects. Had our forefathers
remained there, they would only have crowded it, and perhaps
prolonged those convulsions which had shook it so long. Every
industrious European who transports himself here, may be compared to
a sprout growing at the foot of a great tree; it enjoys and draws
but a little portion of sap; wrench it from the parent roots,
transplant it, and it will become a tree bearing fruit also.
Colonists are therefore entitled to the consideration due to the
most useful subjects; a hundred families barely existing in some
parts of Scotland, will here in six years, cause an annual
exportation of 10,000 bushels of wheat: 100 bushels being but a
common quantity for an industrious family to sell, if they cultivate
good land. It is here then that the idle may be employed, the
useless become useful, and the poor become rich; but by riches I do
not mean gold and silver, we have but little of those metals; I mean
a better sort of wealth, cleared lands, cattle, good houses, good
clothes, and an increase of people to enjoy them.
There is no wonder that this country has so many charms, and
presents to Europeans so many temptations to remain in it. A
traveller in Europe becomes a stranger as soon as he quits his own
kingdom; but it is otherwise here. We know, properly speaking, no
strangers; this is every person's country; the variety of our soils,
situations, climates, governments, and produce, hath something which
must please everybody. No sooner does an European arrive, no matter
of what condition, than his eyes are opened upon the fair prospect;
he hears his language spoke, he retraces many of his own country
manners, he perpetually hears the names of families and towns with
which he is acquainted; he sees happiness and prosperity in all
places disseminated; he meets with hospitality, kindness, and plenty
everywhere; he beholds hardly any poor, he seldom hears of
punishments and executions; and he wonders at the elegance of our
towns, those miracles of industry and freedom. He cannot admire
enough our rural districts, our convenient roads, good taverns, and
our many accommodations; he involuntarily loves a country where
everything is so lovely. When in England, he was a mere Englishman;
here he stands on a larger portion of the globe, not less than its
fourth part, and may see the productions of the north, in iron and
naval stores; the provisions of Ireland, the grain of Egypt, the
indigo, the rice of China. He does not find, as in Europe, a crowded
society, where every place is over-stocked; he does not feel that
perpetual collision of parties, that difficulty of beginning, that
contention which oversets so many. There is room for everybody in
America; has he any particular talent, or industry? he exerts it in
order to procure a livelihood, and it succeeds. Is he a merchant?
the avenues of trade are infinite; is he eminent in any respect? he
will be employed and respected. Does he love a country life?
pleasant farms present themselves; he may purchase what he wants,
and thereby become an American farmer. Is he a labourer, sober and
industrious? he need not go many miles, nor receive many
informations before he will be hired, well fed at the table of his
employer, and paid four or five times more than he can get in
Europe. Does he want uncultivated lands? thousands of acres present
themselves, which he may purchase cheap. Whatever be his talents or
inclinations, if they are moderate, he may satisfy them. I do not
mean that every one who comes will grow rich in a little time; no,
but he may procure an easy, decent maintenance, by his industry.
Instead of starving he will be fed, instead of being idle he will
have employment; and these are riches enough for such men as come
over here. The rich stay in Europe, it is only the middling and the
poor that emigrate. Would you wish to travel in independent
idleness, from north to south, you will find easy access, and the
most cheerful reception at every house; society without ostentation,
good cheer without pride, and every decent diversion which the
country affords, with little expense. It is no wonder that the
European who has lived here a few years, is desirous to remain;
Europe with all its pomp, is not to be compared to this continent,
for men of middle stations, or labourers.
An European, when he first arrives, seems limited in his intentions,
as well as in his views; but he very suddenly alters his scale; two
hundred miles formerly appeared a very great distance, it is now but
a trifle; he no sooner breathes our air than he forms schemes, and
embarks in designs he never would have thought of in his own
country. There the plenitude of society confines many useful ideas,
and often extinguishes the most laudable schemes which here ripen
into maturity. Thus Europeans become Americans.
But how is this accomplished in that crowd of low, indigent people,
who flock here every year from all parts of Europe? I will tell you;
they no sooner arrive than they immediately feel the good effects of
that plenty of provisions we possess: they fare on our best food,
and they are kindly entertained; their talents, character, and
peculiar industry are immediately inquired into; they find
countrymen everywhere disseminated, let them come from whatever part
of Europe. Let me select one as an epitome of the rest; he is hired,
he goes to work, and works moderately; instead of being employed by
a haughty person, he finds himself with his equal, placed at the
substantial table of the farmer, or else at an inferior one as good;
his wages are high, his bed is not like that bed of sorrow on which
he used to lie: if he behaves with propriety, and is faithful, he is
caressed, and becomes as it were a member of the family. He begins
to feel the effects of a sort of resurrection; hitherto he had not
lived, but simply vegetated; he now feels himself a man, because he
is treated as such; the laws of his own country had overlooked him
in his insignificancy; the laws of this cover him with their mantle.
Judge what an alteration there must arise in the mind and thoughts
of this man; he begins to forget his former servitude and
dependence, his heart involuntarily swells and glows; this first
swell inspires him with those new thoughts which constitute an
American. What love can he entertain for a country where his
existence was a burthen to him; if he is a generous good man, the
love of this new adoptive parent will sink deep into his heart. He
looks around, and sees many a prosperous person, who but a few years
before was as poor as himself. This encourages him much, he begins
to form some little scheme, the first, alas, he ever formed in his
life. If he is wise he thus spends two or three years, in which time
he acquires knowledge, the use of tools, the modes of working the
lands, felling trees, etc. This prepares the foundation of a good
name, the most useful acquisition he can make. He is encouraged, he
has gained friends; he is advised and directed, he feels bold, he
purchases some land; he gives all the money he has brought over, as
well as what he has earned, and trusts to the God of harvests for
the discharge of the rest. His good name procures him credit. He is
now possessed of the deed, conveying to him and his posterity the
fee simple and absolute property of two hundred acres of land,
situated on such a river. What an epocha in this man's life! He is
become a freeholder, from perhaps a German boor—he is now an
American, a Pennsylvanian, an English subject. He is naturalised,
his name is enrolled with those of the other citizens of the
province. Instead of being a vagrant, he has a place of residence;
he is called the inhabitant of such a county, or of such a district,
and for the first time in his life counts for something; for
hitherto he has been a cypher. I only repeat what I have heard many
say, and no wonder their hearts should glow, and be agitated with a
multitude of feelings, not easy to describe. From nothing to start
into being; from a servant to the rank of a master; from being the
slave of some despotic prince, to become a free man, invested with
lands, to which every municipal blessing is annexed! What a change
indeed! It is in consequence of that change that he becomes an
American. This great metamorphosis has a double effect, it
extinguishes all his European prejudices, he forgets that mechanism
of subordination, that servility of disposition which poverty had
taught him; and sometimes he is apt to forget too much, often
passing from one extreme to the other. If he is a good man, he forms
schemes of future prosperity, he proposes to educate his children
better than he has been educated himself; he thinks of future modes
of conduct, feels an ardour to labour he never felt before. Pride
steps in and leads him to everything that the laws do not forbid: he
respects them; with a heart-felt gratitude he looks toward the east,
toward that insular government from whose wisdom all his new
felicity is derived, and under whose wings and protection he now
lives. These reflections constitute him the good man and the good
subject. Ye poor Europeans, ye, who sweat, and work for the great—
ye, who are obliged to give so many sheaves to the church, so many
to your lords, so many to your government, and have hardly any left
for yourselves—ye, who are held in less estimation than favourite
hunters or useless lap-dogs—ye, who only breathe the air of nature,
because it cannot be withheld from you; it is here that ye can
conceive the possibility of those feelings I have been describing;
it is here the laws of naturalisation invite every one to partake of
our great labours and felicity, to till unrented, untaxed lands!
Many, corrupted beyond the power of amendment, have brought with
them all their vices, and disregarding the advantages held to them,
have gone on in their former career of iniquity, until they have
been overtaken and punished by our laws. It is not every emigrant
who succeeds; no, it is only the sober, the honest, and industrious:
happy those to whom this transition has served as a powerful spur to
labour, to prosperity, and to the good establishment of children,
born in the days of their poverty; and who had no other portion to
expect but the rags of their parents, had it not been for their
happy emigration. Others again, have been led astray by this
enchanting scene; their new pride, instead of leading them to the
fields, has kept them in idleness; the idea of possessing lands is
all that satisfies them—though surrounded with fertility, they have
mouldered away their time in inactivity, misinformed husbandry, and
ineffectual endeavours. How much wiser, in general, the honest
Germans than almost all other Europeans; they hire themselves to
some of their wealthy landsmen, and in that apprenticeship learn
everything that is necessary. They attentively consider the
prosperous industry of others, which imprints in their minds a
strong desire of possessing the same advantages. This forcible idea
never quits them, they launch forth, and by dint of sobriety, rigid
parsimony, and the most persevering industry, they commonly succeed.
Their astonishment at their first arrival from Germany is very
great—it is to them a dream; the contrast must be powerful indeed;
they observe their countrymen flourishing in every place; they
travel through whole counties where not a word of English is spoken;
and in the names and the language of the people, they retrace
Germany. They have been an useful acquisition to this continent, and
to Pennsylvania in particular; to them it owes some share of its
prosperity: to their mechanical knowledge and patience it owes the
finest mills in all America, the best teams of horses, and many
other advantages. The recollection of their former poverty and
slavery never quits them as long as they live.
The Scotch and the Irish might have lived in their own country
perhaps as poor, but enjoying more civil advantages, the effects of
their new situation do not strike them so forcibly, nor has it so
lasting an effect. From whence the difference arises I know not, but
out of twelve families of emigrants of each country, generally seven
Scotch will succeed, nine German, and four Irish. The Scotch are
frugal and laborious, but their wives cannot work so hard as German
women, who on the contrary vie with their husbands, and often share
with them the most severe toils of the field, which they understand
better. They have therefore nothing to struggle against, but the
common casualties of nature. The Irish do not prosper so well; they
love to drink and to quarrel; they are litigious, and soon take to
the gun, which is the ruin of everything; they seem beside to labour
under a greater degree of ignorance in husbandry than the others;
perhaps it is that their industry had less scope, and was less
exercised at home. I have heard many relate, how the land was
parcelled out in that kingdom; their ancient conquest has been a
great detriment to them, by over-setting their landed property. The
lands possessed by a few, are leased down ad infinitum, and the
occupiers often pay five guineas an acre. The poor are worse lodged
there than anywhere else in Europe; their potatoes, which are easily
raised, are perhaps an inducement to laziness: their wages are too
low, and their whisky too cheap.
There is no tracing observations of this kind, without making at the
same time very great allowances, as there are everywhere to be
found, a great many exceptions. The Irish themselves, from different
parts of that kingdom, are very different. It is difficult to
account for this surprising locality, one would think on so small an
island an Irishman must be an Irishman: yet it is not so, they are
different in their aptitude to, and in their love of labour.
The Scotch on the contrary are all industrious and saving; they want
nothing more than a field to exert themselves in, and they are
commonly sure of succeeding. The only difficulty they labour under
is, that technical American knowledge which requires some time to
obtain; it is not easy for those who seldom saw a tree, to conceive
how it is to be felled, cut up, and split into rails and posts.
As I am fond of seeing and talking of prosperous families, I intend
to finish this letter by relating to you the history of an honest
Scotch Hebridean, who came here in 1774, which will show you in
epitome what the Scotch can do, wherever they have room for the
exertion of their industry. Whenever I hear of any new settlement, I
pay it a visit once or twice a year, on purpose to observe the
different steps each settler takes, the gradual improvements, the
different tempers of each family, on which their prosperity in a
great nature depends; their different modifications of industry,
their ingenuity, and contrivance; for being all poor, their life
requires sagacity and prudence. In the evening I love to hear them
tell their stories, they furnish me with new ideas; I sit still and
listen to their ancient misfortunes, observing in many of them a
strong degree of gratitude to God, and the government. Many a well
meant sermon have I preached to some of them. When I found laziness
and inattention to prevail, who could refrain from wishing well to
these new countrymen, after having undergone so many fatigues. Who
could withhold good advice? What a happy change it must be, to
descend from the high, sterile, bleak lands of Scotland, where
everything is barren and cold, to rest on some fertile farms in
these middle provinces! Such a transition must have afforded the
most pleasing satisfaction.
The following dialogue passed at an outsettlement, where I lately
paid a visit:
Well, friend, how do you do now; I am come fifty odd miles on
purpose to see you; how do you go on with your new cutting and
slashing? Very well, good Sir, we learn the use of the axe bravely,
we shall make it out; we have a belly full of victuals every day,
our cows run about, and come home full of milk, our hogs get fat of
themselves in the woods: Oh, this is a good country! God bless the
king, and William Penn; we shall do very well by and by, if we keep
our healths. Your loghouse looks neat and light, where did you get
these shingles? One of our neighbours is a New-England man, and he
showed us how to split them out of chestnut-trees. Now for a barn,
but all in good time, here are fine trees to build with. Who is to
frame it, sure you don't understand that work yet? A countryman of
ours who has been in America these ten years, offers to wait for his
money until the second crop is lodged in it. What did you give for
your land? Thirty-five shillings per acre, payable in seven years.
How many acres have you got? An hundred and fifty. That is enough to
begin with; is not your land pretty hard to clear? Yes, Sir, hard
enough, but it would be harder still if it were ready cleared, for
then we should have no timber, and I love the woods much; the land
is nothing without them. Have not you found out any bees yet? No,
Sir; and if we had we should not know what to do with them. I will
tell you by and by. You are very kind. Farewell, honest man, God
prosper you; whenever you travel toward——, inquire for J.S. He
will entertain you kindly, provided you bring him good tidings from
your family and farm. In this manner I often visit them, and
carefully examine their houses, their modes of ingenuity, their
different ways; and make them all relate all they know, and describe
all they feel. These are scenes which I believe you would willingly
share with me. I well remember your philanthropic turn of mind. Is
it not better to contemplate under these humble roofs, the rudiments
of future wealth and population, than to behold the accumulated
bundles of litigious papers in the office of a lawyer? To examine
how the world is gradually settled, how the howling swamp is
converted into a pleasing meadow, the rough ridge into a fine field;
and to hear the cheerful whistling, the rural song, where there was
no sound heard before, save the yell of the savage, the screech of
the owl or the hissing of the snake? Here an European, fatigued with
luxury, riches, and pleasures, may find a sweet relaxation in a
series of interesting scenes, as affecting as they are new. England,
which now contains so many domes, so many castles, was once like
this; a place woody and marshy; its inhabitants, now the favourite
nation for arts and commerce, were once painted like our neighbours.
The country will nourish in its turn, and the same observations will
be made which I have just delineated. Posterity will look back with
avidity and pleasure, to trace, if possible, the era of this or that
particular settlement.
Pray, what is the reason that the Scots are in general more
religious, more faithful, more honest, and industrious than the
Irish? I do not mean to insinuate national reflections, God forbid!
It ill becomes any man, and much less an American; but as I know men
are nothing of themselves, and that they owe all their different
modifications either to government or other local circumstances,
there must be some powerful causes which constitute this great
national difference.
Agreeable to the account which several Scotchmen have given me of
the north of Britain, of the Orkneys, and the Hebride Islands, they
seem, on many accounts, to be unfit for the habitation of men; they
appear to be calculated only for great sheep pastures. Who then can
blame the inhabitants of these countries for transporting themselves
hither? This great continent must in time absorb the poorest part of
Europe; and this will happen in proportion as it becomes better
known; and as war, taxation, oppression, and misery increase there.
The Hebrides appear to be fit only for the residence of malefactors,
and it would be much better to send felons there than either to
Virginia or Maryland. What a strange compliment has our mother
country paid to two of the finest provinces in America! England has
entertained in that respect very mistaken ideas; what was intended
as a punishment, is become the good fortune of several; many of
those who have been transported as felons, are now rich, and
strangers to the stings of those wants that urged them to violations
of the law: they are become industrious, exemplary, and useful
citizens. The English government should purchase the most northern
and barren of those islands; it should send over to us the honest,
primitive Hebrideans, settle them here on good lands, as a reward
for their virtue and ancient poverty; and replace them with a colony
of her wicked sons. The severity of the climate, the inclemency of
the seasons, the sterility of the soil, the tempestuousness of the
sea, would afflict and punish enough. Could there be found a spot
better adapted to retaliate the injury it had received by their
crimes? Some of those islands might be considered as the hell of
Great Britain, where all evil spirits should be sent. Two essential
ends would be answered by this simple operation. The good people, by
emigration, would be rendered happier; the bad ones would be placed
where they ought to be. In a few years the dread of being sent to
that wintry region would have a much stronger effect than that of
transportation.—This is no place of punishment; were I a poor
hopeless, breadless Englishman, and not restrained by the power of
shame, I should be very thankful for the passage. It is of very
little importance how, and in what manner an indigent man arrives;
for if he is but sober, honest, and industrious, he has nothing more
to ask of heaven. Let him go to work, he will have opportunities
enough to earn a comfortable support, and even the means of
procuring some land; which ought to be the utmost wish of every
person who has health and hands to work. I knew a man who came to
this country, in the literal sense of the expression, stark naked; I
think he was a Frenchman, and a sailor on board an English man-of-
war. Being discontented, he had stripped himself and swam ashore;
where, finding clothes and friends, he settled afterwards at
Maraneck, in the county of Chester, in the province of New York: he
married and left a good farm to each of his sons. I knew another
person who was but twelve years old when he was taken on the
frontiers of Canada, by the Indians; at his arrival at Albany he was
purchased by a gentleman, who generously bound him apprentice to a
tailor. He lived to the age of ninety, and left behind him a fine
estate and a numerous family, all well settled; many of them I am
acquainted with.—Where is then the industrious European who ought
to despair?
After a foreigner from any part of Europe is arrived, and become a
citizen; let him devoutly listen to the voice of our great parent,
which says to him, "Welcome to my shores, distressed European; bless
the hour in which thou didst see my verdant fields, my fair
navigable rivers, and my green mountains!—If thou wilt work, I have
bread for thee; if thou wilt be honest, sober, and industrious, I
have greater rewards to confer on thee—ease and independence. I
will give thee fields to feed and clothe thee; a comfortable
fireside to sit by, and tell thy children by what means thou hast
prospered; and a decent bed to repose on. I shall endow thee beside
with the immunities of a freeman. If thou wilt carefully educate thy
children, teach them gratitude to God, and reverence to that
government, that philanthropic government, which has collected here
so many men and made them happy. I will also provide for thy
progeny; and to every good man this ought to be the most holy, the
most powerful, the most earnest wish he can possibly form, as well
as the most consolatory prospect when he dies. Go thou and work and
till; thou shalt prosper, provided thou be just, grateful, and
industrious."
HISTORY OF ANDREW, THE HEBRIDEAN
Let historians give the detail of our charters, the succession of
our several governors, and of their administrations; of our
political struggles, and of the foundation of our towns: let
annalists amuse themselves with collecting anecdotes of the
establishment of our modern provinces: eagles soar high—I, a
feebler bird, cheerfully content myself with skipping from bush to
bush, and living on insignificant insects. I am so habituated to
draw all my food and pleasure from the surface of the earth which I
till, that I cannot, nor indeed am I able to quit it—I therefore
present you with the short history of a simple Scotchman; though it
contain not a single remarkable event to amaze the reader; no
tragical scene to convulse the heart, or pathetic narrative to draw
tears from sympathetic eyes. All I wish to delineate is, the
progressive steps of a poor man, advancing from indigence to ease;
from oppression to freedom; from obscurity and contumely to some
degree of consequence—not by virtue of any freaks of fortune, but
by the gradual operation of sobriety, honesty, and emigration. These
are the limited fields, through which I love to wander; sure to find
in some parts, the smile of new-born happiness, the glad heart,
inspiring the cheerful song, the glow of manly pride excited by
vivid hopes and rising independence. I always return from my
neighbourly excursions extremely happy, because there I see good
living almost under every roof, and prosperous endeavours almost in
every field. But you may say, why don't you describe some of the
more ancient, opulent settlements of our country, where even the eye
of an European has something to admire? It is true, our American
fields are in general pleasing to behold, adorned and intermixed as
they are with so many substantial houses, flourishing orchards, and
copses of woodlands; the pride of our farms, the source of every
good we possess. But what I might observe there is but natural and
common; for to draw comfortable subsistence from well fenced
cultivated fields, is easy to conceive. A father dies and leaves a
decent house and rich farm to his son; the son modernises the one,
and carefully tills the other; marries the daughter of a friend and
neighbour: this is the common prospect; but though it is rich and
pleasant, yet it is far from being so entertaining and instructive
as the one now in my view.
I had rather attend on the shore to welcome the poor European when
he arrives, I observe him in his first moments of embarrassment,
trace him throughout his primary difficulties, follow him step by
step, until he pitches his tent on some piece of land, and realises
that energetic wish which has made him quit his native land, his
kindred, and induced him to traverse a boisterous ocean. It is there
I want to observe his first thoughts and feelings, the first essays
of an industry, which hitherto has been suppressed. I wish to see
men cut down the first trees, erect their new buildings, till their
first fields, reap their first crops, and say for the first time in
their lives, "This is our own grain, raised from American soil—on
it we shall feed and grow fat, and convert the rest into gold and
silver." I want to see how the happy effects of their sobriety,
honesty, and industry are first displayed: and who would not take a
pleasure in seeing these strangers settling as new countrymen,
struggling with arduous difficulties, overcoming them, and becoming
happy.
Landing on this great continent is like going to sea, they must have
a compass, some friendly directing needle; or else they will
uselessly err and wander for a long time, even with a fair wind: yet
these are the struggles through which our forefathers have waded;
and they have left us no other records of them, but the possession
of our farms. The reflections I make on these new settlers recall to
my mind what my grandfather did in his days; they fill me with
gratitude to his memory as well as to that government, which invited
him to come, and helped him when he arrived, as well as many others.
Can I pass over these reflections without remembering thy name, O
Penn! thou best of legislators; who by the wisdom of thy laws hast
endowed human nature, within the bounds of thy province, with every
dignity it can possibly enjoy in a civilised state; and showed by
thy singular establishment, what all men might be if they would
follow thy example!
In the year 1770, I purchased some lands in the county of——, which
I intended for one of my sons; and was obliged to go there in order
to see them properly surveyed and marked out: the soil is good, but
the country has a very wild aspect. However I observed with
pleasure, that land sells very fast; and I am in hopes when the lad
gets a wife, it will be a well-settled decent country. Agreeable to
our customs, which indeed are those of nature, it is our duty to
provide for our eldest children while we live, in order that our
homesteads may be left to the youngest, who are the most helpless.
Some people are apt to regard the portions given to daughters as so
much lost to the family; but this is selfish, and is not agreeable
to my way of thinking; they cannot work as men do; they marry young:
I have given an honest European a farm to till for himself, rent
free, provided he clears an acre of swamp every year, and that he
quits it whenever my daughter shall marry. It will procure her a
substantial husband, a good farmer—and that is all my ambition.
Whilst I was in the woods I met with a party of Indians; I shook
hands with them, and I perceived they had killed a cub; I had a
little Peach brandy, they perceived it also, we therefore joined
company, kindled a large fire, and ate an hearty supper. I made
their hearts glad, and we all reposed on good beds of leaves. Soon
after dark, I was surprised to hear a prodigious hooting through the
woods; the Indians laughed heartily. One of them, more skilful than
the rest, mimicked the owls so exactly, that a very large one
perched on a high tree over our fire. We soon brought him down; he
measured five feet seven inches from one extremity of the wings to
the other. By Captain——I have sent you the talons, on which I have
had the heads of small candlesticks fixed. Pray keep them on the
table of your study for my sake.
Contrary to my expectation, I found myself under the necessity of
going to Philadelphia, in order to pay the purchase money, and to
have the deeds properly recorded. I thought little of the journey,
though it was above two hundred miles, because I was well acquainted
with many friends, at whose houses I intended to stop. The third
night after I left the woods, I put up at Mr.——'s, the most worthy
citizen I know; he happened to lodge at my house when you was
there.—He kindly inquired after your welfare, and desired I would
make a friendly mention of him to you. The neatness of these good
people is no phenomenon, yet I think this excellent family surpasses
everything I know. No sooner did I lie down to rest than I thought
myself in a most odoriferous arbour, so sweet and fragrant were the
sheets. Next morning I found my host in the orchard destroying
caterpillars. I think, friend B., said I, that thee art greatly
departed from the good rules of the society; thee seemeth to have
quitted that happy simplicity for which it hath hitherto been so
remarkable. Thy rebuke, friend James, is a pretty heavy one; what
motive canst thee have for thus accusing us? Thy kind wife made a
mistake last evening, I said; she put me on a bed of roses, instead
of a common one; I am not used to such delicacies. And is that all,
friend James, that thee hast to reproach us with?—Thee wilt not
call it luxury I hope? thee canst but know that it is the produce of
our garden; and friend Pope sayeth, that "to enjoy is to obey." This
is a most learned excuse indeed, friend B., and must be valued
because it is founded upon truth. James, my wife hath done nothing
more to thy bed than what is done all the year round to all the beds
in the family; she sprinkles her linen with rose-water before she
puts it under the press; it is her fancy, and I have nought to say.
But thee shalt not escape so, verily I will send for her; thee and
she must settle the matter, whilst I proceed on my work, before the
sun gets too high.—Tom, go thou and call thy mistress Philadelphia.
What. said I, is thy wife called by that name? I did not know that
before. I'll tell thee, James, how it came to pass: her grandmother
was the first female child born after William Penn landed with the
rest of our brethren; and in compliment to the city he intended to
build, she was called after the name he intended to give it; and so
there is always one of the daughters of her family known by the name
of Philadelphia. She soon came, and after a most friendly
altercation, I gave up the point; breakfasted, departed, and in four
days reached the city.
A week after news came that a vessel was arrived with Scotch
emigrants. Mr. C. and I went to the dock to see them disembark. It
was a scene which inspired me with a variety of thoughts; here are,
said I to my friend, a number of people, driven by poverty, and
other adverse causes, to a foreign land, in which they know nobody.
The name of a stranger, instead of implying relief, assistance, and
kindness, on the contrary, conveys very different ideas. They are
now distressed; their minds are racked by a variety of
apprehensions, fears, and hopes. It was this last powerful sentiment
which has brought them here. If they are good people, I pray that
heaven may realise them. Whoever were to see them thus gathered
again in five or six years, would behold a more pleasing sight, to
which this would serve as a very powerful contrast. By their
honesty, the vigour of their arms, and the benignity of government,
their condition will be greatly improved; they will be well clad,
fat, possessed of that manly confidence which property confers; they
will become useful citizens. Some of the posterity may act
conspicuous parts in our future American transactions. Most of them
appeared pale and emaciated, from the length of the passage, and the
indifferent provision on which they had lived. The number of
children seemed as great as that of the people; they had all paid
for being conveyed here. The captain told us they were a quiet,
peaceable, and harmless people, who had never dwelt in cities. This
was a valuable cargo; they seemed, a few excepted, to be in the full
vigour of their lives. Several citizens, impelled either by
spontaneous attachments, or motives of humanity, took many of them
to their houses; the city, agreeable to its usual wisdom and
humanity, ordered them all to be lodged in the barracks, and plenty
of provisions to be given them. My friend pitched upon one also and
led him to his house, with his wife, and a son about fourteen years
of age. The majority of them had contracted for land the year
before, by means of an agent; the rest depended entirely upon
chance; and the one who followed us was of this last class. Poor
man, he smiled on receiving the invitation, and gladly accepted it,
bidding his wife and son do the same, in a language which I did not
understand. He gazed with uninterrupted attention on everything he
saw; the houses, the inhabitants, the negroes, and carriages:
everything appeared equally new to him; and we went slow, in order
to give him time to feed on this pleasing variety. Good God! said
he, is this Philadelphia, that blessed city of bread and provisions,
of which we have heard so much? I am told it was founded the same
year in which my father was born; why, it is finer than Greenock and
Glasgow, which are ten times as old. It is so, said my friend to
him, and when thee hast been here a month, thee will soon see that
it is the capital of a fine province, of which thee art going to be
a citizen: Greenock enjoys neither such a climate nor such a soil.
Thus we slowly proceeded along, when we met several large Lancaster
six-horse waggons, just arrived from the country. At this stupendous
sight he stopped short, and with great diffidence asked us what was
the use of these great moving houses, and where those big horses
came from? Have you none such at home, I asked him? Oh, no; these
huge animals would eat all the grass of our island! We at last
reached my friend's house, who in the glow of well-meant
hospitality, made them all three sit down to a good dinner, and gave
them as much cider as they could drink. God bless this country, and
the good people it contains, said he; this is the best meal's
victuals I have made a long time.—I thank you kindly.
What part of Scotland dost thee come from, friend Andrew, said Mr.
C.? Some of us come from the main, some from the island of Barra, he
answered—I myself am a Barra man. I looked on the map, and by its
latitude, easily guessed that it must be an inhospitable climate.
What sort of land have you got there, I asked him? Bad enough, said
he; we have no such trees as I see here, no wheat, no kine, no
apples. Then, I observed, that it must be hard for the poor to live.
We have no poor, he answered, we are all alike, except our laird;
but he cannot help everybody. Pray what is the name of your laird?
Mr. Neiel, said Andrew; the like of him is not to be found in any of
the isles; his forefathers have lived there thirty generations ago,
as we are told. Now, gentlemen, you may judge what an ancient family
estate it must be. But it is cold, the land is thin, and there were
too many of us, which are the reasons that some are come to seek
their fortunes here. Well, Andrew, what step do you intend to take
in order to become rich? I do not know, Sir; I am but an ignorant
man, a stranger besides—I must rely on the advice of good
Christians, they would not deceive me, I am sure. I have brought
with me a character from our Barra minister, can it do me any good
here? Oh, yes; but your future success will depend entirely on your
own conduct; if you are a sober man, as the certificate says,
laborious, and honest, there is no fear but that you will do well.
Have you brought any money with you, Andrew? Yes, Sir, eleven
guineas and an half. Upon my word it is a considerable sum for a
Barra man; how came you by so much money? Why seven years ago I
received a legacy of thirty-seven pounds from an uncle, who loved me
much; my wife brought me two guineas, when the laird gave her to me
for a wife, which I have saved ever since. I have sold all I had; I
worked in Glasgow for some time. I am glad to hear you are so saving
and prudent; be so still; you must go and hire yourself with some
good people; what can you do? I can thresh a little, and handle the
spade. Can you plough? Yes, Sir, with the little breast plough I
have brought with me. These won't do here, Andrew; you are an able
man; if you are willing you will soon learn. I'll tell you what I
intend to do; I'll send you to my house, where you shall stay two or
three weeks, there you must exercise yourself with the axe, that is
the principal tool the Americans want, and particularly the back-
settlers. Can your wife spin? Yes, she can. Well then as soon as you
are able to handle the axe, you shall go and live with Mr. P. R., a
particular friend of mine, who will give you four dollars per month,
for the first six, and the usual price of five as long as you remain
with him. I shall place your wife in another house, where she shall
receive half a dollar a week for spinning; and your son a dollar a
month to drive the team. You shall have besides good victuals to
eat, and good beds to lie on; will all this satisfy you, Andrew? He
hardly understood what I said; the honest tears of gratitude fell
from his eyes as he looked at me, and its expressions seemed to
quiver on his lips.—Though silent, this was saying a great deal;
there was besides something extremely moving to see a man six feet
high thus shed tears; and they did not lessen the good opinion I had
entertained of him. At last he told me, that my offers were more
than he deserved, and that he would first begin to work for his
victuals. No, no, said I, if you are careful and sober, and do what
you can, you shall receive what I told you, after you have served a
short apprenticeship at my house. May God repay you for all your
kindnesses, said Andrew; as long as I live I shall thank you, and do
what I can for you. A few days after I sent them all three to——,
by the return of some waggons, that he might have an opportunity of
viewing, and convincing himself of the utility of those machines
which he had at first so much admired.
The further descriptions he gave us of the Hebrides in general, and
of his native island in particular; of the customs and modes of
living of the inhabitants; greatly entertained me. Pray is the
sterility of the soil the cause that there are no trees, or is it
because there are none planted? What are the modern families of all
the kings of the earth, compared to the date of that of Mr. Neiel?
Admitting that each generation should last but forty years, this
makes a period of 1200; an extraordinary duration for the
uninterrupted descent of any family! Agreeably to the description he
gave us of those countries, they seem to live according to the rules
of nature, which gives them but bare subsistence; their
constitutions are uncontaminated by any excess or effeminacy, which
their soil refuses. If their allowance of food is not too scanty,
they must all be healthy by perpetual temperance and exercise; if
so, they are amply rewarded for their poverty. Could they have
obtained but necessary food, they would not have left it; for it was
not in consequence of oppression, either from their patriarch or the
government, that they had emigrated. I wish we had a colony of these
honest people settled in some parts of this province; their morals,
their religion, seem to be as simple as their manners. This society
would present an interesting spectacle could they be transported on
a richer soil. But perhaps that soil would soon alter everything;
for our opinions, vices, and virtues, are altogether local: we are
machines fashioned by every circumstance around us.
Andrew arrived at my house a week before I did, and I found my wife,
agreeable to my instructions, had placed the axe in his hands, as
his first task. For some time he was very awkward, but he was so
docile, so willing, and grateful, as well as his wife, that I
foresaw he would succeed. Agreeably to my promise, I put them all
with different families, where they were well liked, and all parties
were pleased. Andrew worked hard, lived well, grew fat, and every
Sunday came to pay me a visit on a good horse, which Mr. P. R. lent
him. Poor man, it took him a long time ere he could sit on the
saddle and hold the bridle properly. I believe he had never before
mounted such a beast, though I did not choose to ask him that
question, for fear it might suggest some mortifying ideas. After
having been twelve months at Mr. P. R.'s, and having received his
own and his family's wages, which amounted to eighty-four dollars;
he came to see me on a week-day, and told me, that he was a man of
middle age, and would willingly have land of his own, in order to
procure him a home, as a shelter against old age: that whenever this
period should come, his son, to whom he would give his land, would
then maintain him, and thus live altogether; he therefore required
my advice and assistance. I thought his desire very natural and
praiseworthy, and told him that I should think of it, but that he
must remain one month longer with Mr. P. R., who had 3000 rails to
split. He immediately consented. The spring was not far advanced
enough yet for Andrew to begin clearing any land even supposing that
he had made a purchase; as it is always necessary that the leaves
should be out, in order that this additional combustible may serve
to burn the heaps of brush more readily.
A few days after, it happened that the whole family of Mr. P. R.
went to meeting, and left Andrew to take care of the house. While he
was at the door, attentively reading the Bible, nine Indians just
come from the mountains, suddenly made their appearance, and
unloaded their packs of furs on the floor of the piazza. Conceive,
if you can, what was Andrew's consternation at this extraordinary
sight! From the singular appearance of these people, the honest
Hebridean took them for a lawless band come to rob his master's
house. He therefore, like a faithful guardian, precipitately
withdrew and shut the doors, but as most of our houses are without
locks, he was reduced to the necessity of fixing his knife over the
latch, and then flew upstairs in quest of a broadsword he had
brought from Scotland. The Indians, who were Mr. P. R.'s particular
friends, guessed at his suspicions and fears; they forcibly lifted
the door, and suddenly took possession of the house, got all the
bread and meat they wanted, and sat themselves down by the fire. At
this instant Andrew, with his broadsword in his hand, entered the
room; the Indians earnestly looking at him, and attentively watching
his motions. After a very few reflections, Andrew found that his
weapon was useless, when opposed to nine tomahawks; but this did not
diminish his anger, on the contrary; it grew greater on observing
the calm impudence with which they were devouring the family
provisions. Unable to resist, he called them names in broad Scotch,
and ordered them to desist and be gone; to which the Indians (as
they told me afterwards) replied in their equally broad idiom. It
must have been a most unintelligible altercation between this honest
Barra man, and nine Indians who did not much care for anything he
could say. At last he ventured to lay his hands on one of them, in
order to turn him out of the house. Here Andrew's fidelity got the
better of his prudence; for the Indian, by his motions, threatened
to scalp him, while the rest gave the war hoop. This horrid noise so
effectually frightened poor Andrew, that, unmindful of his courage,
of his broadsword, and his intentions, he rushed out, left them
masters of the house, and disappeared. I have heard one of the
Indians say since, that he never laughed so heartily in his life.
Andrew at a distance, soon recovered from the fears which had been
inspired by this infernal yell, and thought of no other remedy than
to go to the meeting-house, which was about two miles distant. In
the eagerness of his honest intentions, with looks of affright still
marked on his countenance, he called Mr. P. R. out, and told him
with great vehemence of style, that nine monsters were come to his
house—some blue, some red, and some black; that they had little
axes in their hands out of which they smoked; and that like
highlanders, they had no breeches; that they were devouring all his
victuals, and that God only knew what they would do more. Pacify
yourself, said Mr. P. R., my house is as safe with these people, as
if I was there myself; as for the victuals, they are heartily
welcome, honest Andrew; they are not people of much ceremony; they
help themselves thus whenever they are among their friends; I do so
too in their wigwams, whenever I go to their village: you had better
therefore step in and hear the remainder of the sermon, and when the
meeting is over we will all go back in the waggon together.
At their return, Mr. P. R., who speaks the Indian language very
well, explained the whole matter; the Indians renewed their laugh,
and shook hands with honest Andrew, whom they made to smoke out of
their pipes; and thus peace was made, and ratified according to the
Indian custom, by the calumet.
Soon after this adventure, the time approached when I had promised
Andrew my best assistance to settle him; for that purpose I went to
Mr. A. V. in the county of——, who, I was informed, had purchased a
tract of land, contiguous to——settlement. I gave him a faithful
detail of the progress Andrew had made in the rural arts; of his
honesty, sobriety, and gratitude, and pressed him to sell him an
hundred acres. This I cannot comply with, said Mr. A. V., but at the
same time I will do better; I love to encourage honest Europeans as
much as you do, and to see them prosper: you tell me he has but one
son; I will lease them an hundred acres for any term of years you
please, and make it more valuable to your Scotchman than if he was
possessed of the fee simple. By that means he may, with what little
money he has, buy a plough, a team, and some stock; he will not be
incumbered with debts and mortgages; what he raises will be his own;
had he two or three sons as able as himself, then I should think it
more eligible for him to purchase the fee simple. I join with you in
opinion, and will bring Andrew along with me in a few days.
Well, honest Andrew, said Mr. A. V., in consideration of your good
name, I will let you have an hundred acres of good arable land, that
shall be laid out along a new road; there is a bridge already
erected on the creek that passes through the land, and a fine swamp
of about twenty acres. These are my terms, I cannot sell, but I will
lease you the quantity that Mr. James, your friend, has asked; the
first seven years you shall pay no rent, whatever you sow and reap,
and plant and gather, shall be entirely your own; neither the king,
government, nor church, will have any claim on your future property:
the remaining part of the time you must give me twelve dollars and
an half a year; and that is all you will have to pay me. Within the
three first years you must plant fifty apple trees, and clear seven
acres of swamp within the first part of the lease; it will be your
own advantage: whatever you do more within that time, I will pay you
for it, at the common rate of the country. The term of the lease
shall be thirty years; how do you like it, Andrew? Oh, Sir, it is
very good, but I am afraid, that the king or his ministers, or the
governor, or some of our great men, will come and take the land from
me; your son may say to me, by and by, this is my father's land,
Andrew, you must quit it. No, no, said Mr. A. V., there is no such
danger; the king and his ministers are too just to take the labour
of a poor settler; here we have no great men, but what are
subordinate to our laws; but to calm all your fears, I will give you
a lease, so that none can make you afraid. If ever you are
dissatisfied with the land, a jury of your own neighbourhood shall
value all your improvements, and you shall be paid agreeably to
their verdict. You may sell the lease, or if you die, you may
previously dispose of it, as if the land was your own. Expressive,
yet inarticulate joy, was mixed in his countenance, which seemed
impressed with astonishment and confusion. Do you understand me
well, said Mr. A. V.? No, Sir, replied Andrew, I know nothing of
what you mean about lease, improvement, will, jury, etc. That is
honest, we will explain these things to you by and by. It must be
confessed that those were hard words, which he had never heard in
his life; for by his own account, the ideas they convey would be
totally useless in the island of Barra. No wonder, therefore, that
he was embarrassed; for how could the man who had hardly a will of
his own since he was born, imagine he could have one after his
death? How could the person who never possessed anything, conceive
that he could extend his new dominion over this land, even after he
should be laid in his grave? For my part, I think Andrew's amazement
did not imply any extraordinary degree of ignorance; he was an actor
introduced upon a new scene, it required some time ere he could
reconcile himself to the part he was to perform. However he was soon
enlightened, and introduced into those mysteries with which we
native Americans are but too well acquainted.
Here then is honest Andrew, invested with every municipal advantage
they confer; become a freeholder, possessed of a vote, of a place of
residence, a citizen of the province of Pennsylvania. Andrew's
original hopes and the distant prospects he had formed in the island
of Barra, were at the eve of being realised; we therefore can easily
forgive him a few spontaneous ejaculations, which would be useless
to repeat. This short tale is easily told; few words are sufficient
to describe this sudden change of situation; but in his mind it was
gradual, and took him above a week before he could be sure, that
without disturbing any money he could possess lands. Soon after he
prepared himself; I lent him a barrel of pork, and 200 lb. weight of
meal, and made him purchase what was necessary besides.
He set out, and hired a room in the house of a settler who lived the
most contiguous to his own land. His first work was to clear some
acres of swamp, that he might have a supply of hay the following
year for his two horses and cows. From the first day he began to
work, he was indefatigable; his honesty procured him friends, and
his industry the esteem of his new neighbours. One of them offered
him two acres of cleared land, whereon he might plant corn,
pumpkins, squashes, and a few potatoes, that very season. It is
astonishing how quick men will learn when they work for themselves.
I saw with pleasure two months after, Andrew holding a two-horse
plough and tracing his furrows quite straight; thus the spade man of
the island of Barra was become the tiller of American soil. Well
done, said I, Andrew, well done; I see that God speeds and directs
your works; I see prosperity delineated in all your furrows and head
lands. Raise this crop of corn with attention and care, and then you
will be master of the art.
As he had neither mowing nor reaping to do that year, I told him
that the time was come to build his house; and that for the purpose
I would myself invite the neighbourhood to a frolic; that thus he
would have a large dwelling erected, and some upland cleared in one
day. Mr. P. R., his old friend, came at the time appointed, with all
his hands, and brought victuals in plenty: I did the same. About
forty people repaired to the spot; the songs, and merry stories,
went round the woods from cluster to cluster, as the people had
gathered to their different works; trees fell on all sides, bushes
were cut up and heaped; and while many were thus employed, others
with their teams hauled the big logs to the spot which Andrew had
pitched upon for the erection of his new dwelling. We all dined in
the woods; in the afternoon the logs were placed with skids, and the
usual contrivances: thus the rude house was raised, and above two
acres of land cut up, cleared, and heaped.
Whilst all these different operations were performing, Andrew was
absolutely incapable of working; it was to him the most solemn
holiday he had ever seen; it would have been sacrilegious in him to
have denied it with menial labour. Poor man, he sanctified it with
joy and thanksgiving, and honest libations—he went from one to the
other with the bottle in his hand, pressing everybody to drink, and
drinking himself to show the example. He spent the whole day in
smiling, laughing, and uttering monosyllables: his wife and son were
there also, but as they could not understand the language, their
pleasure must have been altogether that of the imagination. The
powerful lord, the wealthy merchant, on seeing the superb mansion
finished, never can feel half the joy and real happiness which was
felt and enjoyed on that day by this honest Hebridean: though this
new dwelling, erected in the midst of the woods, was nothing more
than a square inclosure, composed of twenty-four large clumsy logs,
let in at the ends. When the work was finished, the company made the
woods resound with the noise of their three cheers, and the honest
wishes they formed for Andrew's prosperity. He could say nothing,
but with thankful tears he shook hands with them all. Thus from the
first day he had landed, Andrew marched towards this important
event: this memorable day made the sun shine on that land on which
he was to sow wheat and other grain. What swamp he had cleared lay
before his door; the essence of future bread, milk, and meat, were
scattered all round him. Soon after he hired a carpenter, who put on
a roof and laid the floors; in a week more the house was properly
plastered, and the chimney finished. He moved into it, and purchased
two cows, which found plenty of food in the woods—his hogs had the
same advantage. That very year, he and his son sowed three bushels
of wheat, from which he reaped ninety-one and a half; for I had
ordered him to keep an exact account of all he should raise. His
first crop of other corn would have been as good, had it not been
for the squirrels, which were enemies not to be dispersed by the
broadsword. The fourth year I took an inventory of the wheat this
man possessed, which I send you. Soon after, further settlements
were made on that road, and Andrew, instead of being the last man
towards the wilderness, found himself in a few years in the middle
of a numerous society. He helped others as generously as others had
helped him; and I have dined many times at his table with several of
his neighbours. The second year he was made overseer of the road,
and served on two petty juries, performing as a citizen all the
duties required of him. The historiographer of some great prince or
general, does not bring his hero victorious to the end of a
successful campaign, with one half of the heart-felt pleasure with
which I have conducted Andrew to the situation he now enjoys: he is
independent and easy. Triumph and military honours do not always
imply those two blessings. He is unencumbered with debts, services,
rents, or any other dues; the successes of a campaign, the laurels
of war, must be purchased at the dearest rate, which makes every
cool reflecting citizen to tremble and shudder. By the literal
account hereunto annexed, you will easily be made acquainted with
the happy effects which constantly flow, in this country, from
sobriety and industry, when united with good land and freedom.
The account of the property he acquired with his own hands and those
of his son, in four years, is under:
Dollars
The value of his improvements and lease 225
Six cows, at 13 dollars 78
Two breeding mares 50
The rest of the stock 100
Seventy-three bushels of wheat 66
Money due to him on notes 43
Pork and beef in his cellar 28
Wool and flax 19
Ploughs and other utensils of husbandry 31
—-
240 pounds Pennsylvania currency—dollars 640
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