(PART II)
_January 1st, 1820._--I left Princeton at ten o'clock, with Mr. Phillips
and Mr. Wheeler; and here parted with my good and kind friend Ingle.
I met and spoke, ten miles off, with two hog-jobbing judges, Judge
Prince and Judge Daniel,[104] driving home twenty fat hogs, which they
had just bought.
I reached, and rested at Petersburgh,[105] consisting of fifteen houses.
I passed good farms. Our landlord of this infant town, though having an
{333} ostler, was compelled to groom, saddle, unsaddle, and to do all
himself. Having fifty dollars owing to him, from a gentleman of
Evansville, he arrested him, when he went into the bounds; then he sued
one of the bondsmen, who also entered the bounds. The squire is next to
be sued, who, it is expected, will do likewise.
_Sunday, 2nd._--I rode thirty-one miles this day, and rested at
Edmonstone, in a little cold log-hole, out of which I turned an
officer's black cat, which jumped from the roof into our faces, while in
bed; but she soon found her way in again, through a hole in the roof.
The cat liked our fire. We got no coffee nor tea, but cold milk and
pork, and corn cake.
_3rd._--Travelled all day, through the mud-holes formed by springs
running from countless hills, covered with fine timber, to breakfast, at
three o'clock, p. m. I supped and slept at Judge Chambers's, a
comfortable house, and saw again the judge's mother, of eighty, whose
activity and superior horsemanship, I have before mentioned. I smoked a
segar with Mrs. Judge, while she smoked her pipe, (the first pipe I have
seen here.) She, as well as the old lady, is a quaker. The judge was
gone to the metropolitan town of Coridon, being a senator, on duty.[106]
The land which I passed over all this day, seemed poor, but full of wild
turkeys and bears.
_4th._--I reached Miller's to supper, but found no {334} coffee; cold
milk only, as a substitute. The ride hither is interesting, through a
fine rolling country. The wolves howled around us all night.
_5th._--Passed the Silver Hills,[107] from the summit of which is a
fine, extensive prospect of Kentucky, the Ohio, and of Louisville, where
we breakfasted. I called with Mr. Flower's letter to Archer, who was
out. I received the present of a cow-hide whip, from a lady, and
promised to treat the beast kindly, for her sake. Judge Waggoner
recently shook hands at a whiskey-shop, with a man coming before him
that day, to be tried for murder. He drank his health, and wished him
well through.
I rode seven miles with an intelligent old Kentucky planter, having four
children, who cultivate his farm, without negroes. He says, "Kentucky
is morally and physically ruined. We have been brought up to live
without labour: all are demoralized. No man's word or judgment is to be
taken for the guidance and government of another. Deception is a trade,
and all are rogues. The west has the scum of all the earth. Long ago it
was said, when a man left other States, he is gone to hell, or Kentucky.
The people are none the better for a free, good government. The oldest
first settlers are all gone or ruined. Your colt, sir, of one hundred
dollars, is worth only fifteen dollars. At Louisville, as good a horse
can be bought at ten dollars, or fifteen dollars. You are therefore
cheated."
The Missouri territory boasts the best land in {335} the country, but is
not watered by springs. Wells are, however, dug, abounding in good
water, says our hearty landlord, just returned from viewing that
country.
The bottom land is the finest in the world. Corn, from sixty to eighty
bushels, and wheat, from forty to sixty bushels an acre. The best
prairies are full of fine grass, flowers, and weeds, not coarse, benty,
sticky grass, which denotes the worst of prairie land. Grass, of a short
fine quality, fit for pasture or hay, every where abounds. The country
is full of wild honey, some houses having made seven and eight barrels
this season, taken out of the trees, which are cut down without killing
the bees. These industrious insects do not sting, but are easily hived
and made tame. Our landlord likes the Missouri, but not so well as Old
Kentucky.
Two grim, gaunt-looking men burst into our room, at two, this morning;
and by six, the landlord disturbed us by cow-hiding his negro,
threatening to squeeze the life out of him.
_6th._--I rode all day through a country of fine plantations, and
reached Frankfort to supper, with the legislative body, where I again
met my gay fellow-traveller, Mr. Cowen. It was interesting to look down
our table, and contemplate the many bright, intelligent faces around me:
men who might honour any nation. As strangers, we were {336} invited by
the landlord, (the best I have seen) to the first rush for a chance at
the table's head.
_7th._--I travelled this day through a fine country of rich pasture and
tillage, to Lexington City, to Keen's excellent tavern. I drank wine
with Mr. Lidiard, who is removing eastward, having spent 1,100_l._ in
living, and travelling to and fro. Fine beef at three cents per lb. Fat
fowls, one dollar per dozen. Who would not live in old Kentucky's first
city?
_8th._--Being a wet day, I rested all day and this night. Prairie flies
bleed horses nearly to death. Smoke and fire is a refuge to these
distressed animals. The Indian summer smoke reaches to the Isle of
Madeira.
Visited the Athenæum. Viewed some fine horses, at two hundred dollars
each.
_Sunday, 9th._--I quitted Lexington, and one of the best taverns in
America, for Paris, Kentucky, and a good, genteel farm-house, the
General Washington, twenty-three miles from the city, belonging to Mr.
Hit, who, though owning between four hundred and five hundred acres of
the finest land in Kentucky, does not think it beneath him to entertain
travellers and their horses, on the best fare and beds in the country.
He has been offered sixty dollars, and could now have forty dollars an
acre, for his land, which averages thirty bushels of wheat, and sixty
bushels of corn per acre, and, in {337} natural or artificial grass, is
the first in the world. Sheep, (fine stores) one dollar per head; beef,
fine, three cents per lb., and fowls, one dollar per dozen.
_10th._--Rode all day in the rain and mud, and through the worst roads
in the universe, frequently crossing creeks, belly deep of our horses.
Passed the creek at Blue-lick, belly deep, with sulphurous water running
from a sulphur spring, once a salt spring. The water stinks like the
putrid stagnant water of an English horse-pond, full of animal dung.
This is resorted to for health.
Five or six dirkings and stabbings took place, this fall, in Kentucky.
_11th._--Breakfasted at Washington, (Kentucky) where we parted with Mr.
Phillips, and met the Squire, and another gentleman, debating about law.
Rested at Maysville, a good house, having chambers, and good beds, with
curtains. The steam-boats pass this handsome river town, at the rate of
fifteen to twenty miles an hour. To the passenger, the effect is
beautiful, every minute presenting new objects of attraction.
_12th._--Crossed the Ohio in a flat, submitting to Kentuckyan imposition
of seventy-five cents a horse, instead of twenty-five, because we were
supposed to be Yankees. "We will not," said the boat-man, "take you
over, for less than a dollar each. We heard of you, yesterday. The
gentleman in the cap (meaning me) looks as though he {338} could afford
to pay, and besides, he is so slick with his tongue. The Yankees are the
smartest of fellows, except the Kentuckyans." Sauciness and impudence
are characteristic of these boat-men, who wished I would commence a
bridge over the river.
Reached Union town, Ohio,[108] and rested for the night.
_13th._--Breakfasted at Colonel Wood's. A fine breakfast on beef,
pork-steaks, eggs, and coffee, and plenty for our horses, all for fifty
cents each. Slept at Colonel Peril's, an old Virginian revolutionary
soldier, living on 400 acres of fine land, in a good house, on an
eminence, which he has held two years only. He now wishes to sell all at
ten dollars an acre, less than it cost him, because he has a family who
will all want as much land each, in the Missouri, at two dollars. He
never had a negro. He knows us to be English from our dialect. We
passed, this day, through two or three young villages.
_14th._--Breakfasted at Bainbridge,[109] where is good bottom land, at
twenty to thirty dollars an acre, with improvements. The old Virginian
complains of want of labourers. A farmer must do all himself. Received
of our landlady a lump of Ohio wild sugar, of which some families make
from six to ten barrels a-year, sweet and good enough.
Reached Chilicothé, on the Sciota river, to {339} sup and rest at the
tavern of Mr. Madera, a sensible young man. Here I met Mr. Randolph, a
gentleman of Philadelphia, from Missouri and Illinois, who thinks both
sickly, and not to be preferred to the east, or others parts of the
west. I saw three or four good houses, in the best street, abandoned,
and the windows and doors rotting out for want of occupants.
_15th._--I rode all day through a fine interesting country, abounding
with every good thing, and full of springs and streams. Near
Lancaster,[110] I passed a large high ridge of rocks, which nature has
clothed in everlasting green, being beautified with the spruce, waving
like feathers, on their bleak, barren tops. I reached Lancaster to rest;
a handsome county seat, near which land is selling occasionally from
sixteen dollars to twenty dollars. A fine farm of 170 acres, 100 being
cleared, with all improvements, was sold lately by the sheriff, at
sixteen dollars one cent an acre, much less than it cost. Labour is to
be had at fifty cents and board, but as the produce is so low, it is
thought farming, by hired hands, does not pay. Wheat, fifty cents; corn,
33-1/2 cents; potatoes, 33 cents a bushel; beef, four dollars per cwt.;
pork, three dollars; mutton none; sheep being kept only for the wool,
and bought in common at 2_s._ 8_d._ per head.
Met Judge and General ----, who states that four millions of acres of
land will this year {340} be offered to sale, bordering on the lakes.
Why then should people go to the Missouri? It is not healthy near the
lakes, on account of stagnant waters, made by sand bars, at the mouth of
lake rivers. The regular periodical rising and falling of the lakes is
not yet accounted for. There is no sensible diminution, or increase of
the lake-waters. A grand canal is to be completed in five years, when
boats will travel.[111]
_Sunday, 16th._--I left Lancaster at peep of day, travelling through
intense cold and icy roads to Somerset, eighteen miles, in five hours,
to breakfast.[112] Warmed at an old quarter-section man, a Dutch
American, from Pennsylvania. He came here eleven years since, cleared
seventy acres, has eight children, likes his land, but says, produce is
too low to make it worth raising. People comfortably settled in the
east, on good farms, should stay, unless their children can come and
work on the land. He and his young family do all the work. Has a fine
stove below, warming the first, and all other floors, by a pipe passing
through them.
I slept at a good tavern, the keeper of which is a farmer. All are
farmers, and all the best farmers are tavern-keepers. Farms, therefore,
on the road, sell from 50 to 100 per cent more than land lying back,
though it is no better in quality, and for mere farming, worth no more.
But on the road, a farm and frequented tavern is found to be {341} a
very beneficial mode of using land; the produce selling for double and
treble what it will bring at market, and also fetching ready money.
Labour is not to be commanded, says our landlord.
_17th._--Started at peep of day in a snow-storm, which had covered the
ground six inches deep. Breakfasted at beautiful Zanesville, a town most
delightfully situated amongst the hills. Twelve miles from this town,
one Chandler, in boring for salt, hit upon silver; a mine, seven feet
thick, 150 feet below the surface. It is very pure ore, and the
proprietor has given up two acres of the land to persons who have
applied to the legislature to be incorporated. He is to receive
one-fifth of the net profits.
_18th._--I rode all day through a fine hilly country, full of springs
and fountains. The land is more adapted for good pasture than for
cultivation. Our landlord, Mr. Gill, states that wheat at fifty cents is
too low; but, even at that price, there is no market, nor at any other.
In some former years, Orleans was a market, but now it gets supplied
from countries more conveniently situated than Ohio, from which it costs
one dollar, or one dollar and a quarter per barrel, to send it. Boats
carrying from 100 to 500 barrels, sell for only 16 dollars.
From a conversation, with an intelligent High Sheriff of this county, I
learn that no common debtor has ever lain in prison longer than five
{342} days. None need be longer in giving security for the surrender of
all property.
_19th._--Reached Wheeling late at night, passing through a romantic,
broken, mountainous country, with many fine springs and creeks. Thus I
left Ohio, which, thirty years ago, was a frontier state, full of
Indians, without a white man's house, between Wheeling, Kaskasky, and
St. Louis.
_20th._--Reached Washington, Pennsylvania, to sleep, and found our
tavern full of thirsty classics, from the seminary in this town.
_21st._--Reached Pittsburgh, through a beautiful country of hills, fit
only for pasture. I viewed the fine covered bridges over the two rivers
Monongahela and Allegany, which cost 10,000 dollars each. The hills
around the city shut it in, and make the descent into it frightfully
precipitous. It is most eligibly situated amidst rocks, or rather hills,
of coal, stone, and iron, the coals lying up to the surface, ready for
use. One of these hills, or coal banks, has been long on fire, and
resembles a volcano. Bountiful nature has done every thing for this
rising Birmingham of America.
We slept at Wheeling, at the good hotel of Major Spriggs, one of General
Washington's revolutionary officers, now near 80, a chronicle of years
departed.[113]
_22nd._--Bought a fine buffalo robe for five dollars. {343} The
buffaloes, when Kentucky was first settled, were shot, by the settlers,
merely for their tongues; the carcase and skin being thought worth
nothing, were left where the animal fell.
Left Pittsburgh for Greensburgh, travelling through a fine, cultivated,
thickly settled country, full of neat, flourishing, and good farms, the
occupants of which are said to be rich. Land, _on_ the road, is worth
from fifteen to thirty dollars; _from_ it, five to fifteen dollars per
acre. The hills and mountains seem full of coal-mines and
stone-quarries, or rather banks of coal and stone ever open gratuitously
to all. The people about here are economical and intelligent; qualities
characteristic of Pennsylvania.
_Sunday, 23d._--We agreed to rest here until the morrow; finding one of
our best horses sick; and went to Pittsburgh church.
_24th._--My fellow traveller finding his horse getting worse, gave him
away for our tavern bill of two days, thus paying 175 dollars for two
days board. While this fine animal remained ours, no doctor could be
found, but as soon as he became our landlord's, one was discovered, who
engaged to cure him in a week. Mr. Wheeler took my horse, and left me to
come on in the stage, to meet again at Chambersburgh.
The country round about here is fine, but there is no market, except at
Baltimore, at five dollars a barrel for flour. The carriage costs two
and half {344} dollars. I saw two young ladies, Dutch farmers'
daughters, smoking segars in our tavern, very freely, and made one of
their party. Paid twelve dollars for fare to Chambersburgh.[114]
Invited to a sleying party of ten gentlemen, one of whom was the
venerable speaker (Brady) of the senate of this state. They were nearly
all drunk with apple-toddy, a large bowl of which was handed to every
drinker. One gentleman returned with a cracked skull.
_25th._--Left this town, at three o'clock in the morning, in the stage,
and met again at Bedford, and parted, perhaps, for ever, with my
agreeable fellow-traveller, Mr. Wheeler, who passed on to New York.
Passed the Laurel-hill, a huge mountain, covered with everlasting green,
and a refuge for bears, one of which was recently killed with a pig of
150lbs. weight in his mouth.
_26th._--Again mounted my horse, passing the lonely Allegany mountains,
all day, in a blinding snow-storm, rendering the air as dense as a
November fog in London. Previous to its coming on, I found my naked nose
in danger. The noses of others were wrapped up in flannel bags, or cots,
and masks for the eyes, which are liable to freeze into balls of ice.
Passed several flourishing villages. The people here seem more
economical and simple, than in other states. Rested at M'Connell's town,
100 miles from Washington city.
{345} _27th._--Crossed the last of the huge Allegany mountains, called
the North Mount, nine miles over, and very high. My horse was belly deep
in snow.
Breakfasted at Mercersburgh, at the foot of the above mountain, and at
the commencement of that fine and richest valley in the eastern states,
in which Hagar's town stands, and which extends through Pennsylvania,
Maryland, and Virginia, from 100 to 200 miles long, and from 30 to 40
broad. Land here, three years ago, sold at 100 to 120 dollars, although
now at a forced sale, 160 acres sold for only 1,600 dollars, with
improvements, in Pennsylvania. And if, says my informant, the state
makes no law to prevent it, much must come into the market, without
money to buy, except at a ruinous depreciation.
Passed Hagar's town, to Boonsburgh, to rest all night, after 37 miles
travel.
The old Pennsylvanian farmer, in answer to "How do you do without
negroes?" said, "Better than with them. I occupy of my father 80 acres
in this valley, and hire all my hands, and sell five loads of flour,
while some of the Marylanders and Virginians cannot raise enough to
maintain their negroes, who do but little work."
_28th._--Breakfasted on the road; passed Middletown, with two fine
spires, a good town; and also Frederick town, a noble inland town, and
next to Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, and the first {346} in the United
States. It has three beautiful spires. It is much like a second rate
English town, but not so cleanly; something is dirty, or in ruins. It
stands at the foot of the Blue Ridge, in the finest, largest vale in the
world, running from the eastern sea to the Gulf of Mexico.
Rested at Windmiller's, a stage-house, thirty miles from Washington,
distinguished only by infamous, ungenerous, extortion from travellers.
Here I paid 75 cents for tea; 25 cents for a pint of beer, 9_s._
sterling for a bushel of oats and corn, and 50 cents for hay for the
night. The horse cost 6_s._ 9_d._ in one night.
_29th._--Rode from seven till eleven o'clock, sixteen miles to
breakfast, at Montgomery-court-house, all drenched in rain. I reached
Washington city, at six this evening. Here, for the first time, I met
friend Joseph Lancaster, full of visionary schemes, which are unlikely
to produce him bread.
_Sunday, 30th._--Went to Congress-hall, and heard grave senators
wrangling about slavery. Governor Barbour spoke with eloquence.
Friend Lancaster's daily and familiar calls on the great, and on his
Excellency, the President, about schooling the Indians, and his praises
of the members, are likely to wear out all his former fame, already much
in ruins. I was this day introduced by him to ---- Parr, Esq., an
English gentleman of fortune, from Boston, Lincolnshire, {347} who has
just returned from a pedestrian pilgrimage to Birkbeck and the western
country.
_February 1st._--I again went to Congress, where I heard Mr. Randolph's
good speech on the Missouri question. This sensible orator continually
refers to English authors and orators, insomuch that all seemed English.
These American statesmen cannot open their mouths without acknowledging
their British origin and obligations.--I shall here insert some
observations on the constitution and laws of this country, and on
several of the most distinguished members of Congress, for which I am
indebted to the pen of G. Waterstone, Esq., Congressional Librarian at
Washington.[115]
_Observations on the Constitution and Laws of the United States,
with Sketches of some of the most prominent public Characters._
Like the Minerva of the ancients, the American people have sprung, at
once, into full and vigorous maturity, without the imbecility of
infancy, or the tedious process of gradual progression. They possess
none of the thoughtless liberality and inconsiderate confidence of
youth; but are, already, distinguished by the cold and cautious policy
of declining life, rendered suspicious by a long acquaintance with the
deceptions and the vices of the world.
Practitioners of jurisprudence have become {348} almost innumerable, and
the great end of all laws, the security and protection of the citizen,
is in some degree defeated. It is to the multiplicity and ambiguity of
the laws of his age, that Tacitus has ascribed most of the miseries
which were then experienced; and this evil will always be felt where
they are ambiguous and too numerous. In vain do the Americans urge that
their laws have been founded on those of England, the wisdom and
excellence of which have been so highly and extravagantly eulogized. The
difference, as Mably correctly observes, between the situation of this
country and that is prodigious;[116] the government of one having been
formed in an age of refinement and civilization, and that of the other,
amidst the darkness and barbarism of feudal ignorance. In most of the
states the civil and criminal code is defective; and the latter, like
that of Draco, is often written in blood. Why should not each state form
a code of laws for itself, and cast off this slavish dependence on Great
Britain, whom they pretend so much to dislike?
With a view of explaining more perfectly the nature of this
constitution, I will briefly exhibit the points in which the British and
American governments differ {349}.
_In England._ _In America._
I. The king possesses imperial There is no king; the president
dignity. acts as the chief magistrate of
the nation only.
II. This imperial dignity is The presidency lasts only four
hereditary and perpetual. years.
III. The king has the sole The president can do neither,
power of making war and peace, without the consent of
and of forming treaties with foreign Congress.
powers.
IV. The king alone can levy The president has no such
troops, build fortresses, and equip power: this is vested in
fleets. Congress.
V. He is the source of all judicial The executive has only the
power, and the head of all appointment of judges, with
the tribunals of the nation. the consent of the senate,
and is not connected with
the judiciary.
VI. He is the fountain of all The president has no such
honour, office, and privilege; can power. There are no titles, and
create peers, and distribute titles he can only appoint to office,
and dignities. by and with the consent of the
senate.
VII. He is at the head of the There is no established church.
national church, and has supreme
control over it.
VIII. He is the superintendent The president has no such
of commerce; regulates the power.
weights and measures, and can
alone coin money and give currency
to foreign coin.
IX. He is the universal proprietor The president has nothing to
of the kingdom. do with the property of the
United States {350}.
X. The king's person is sacred The president is nothing more
and inviolate; he is accountable than an individual, is amenable
to no human power, and can do like all civil officers, and
no wrong. considered as capable of doing
wrong as any other citizen.
XI. The British legislature There are no nobles, and both
contains a house of lords, 300 houses of Congress are elected.
nobles, whose seats, honours,
and privileges are hereditary.
It may, perhaps, be unnecessary to adduce more points of difference to
illustrate the nature of the American government. These are amply
sufficient to demonstrate the entire democratic tendency of the
constitution of the United States, and the error under which those
persons labour, who believe that but few differences, and those
immaterial and unimportant, exist between these two governments. They
have, indeed, in common the Habeas Corpus and the Trial by Jury, the
great bulwarks of civil liberty, but in almost every other particular
they disagree.
The second branch of this government is the legislature. This consists
of a Senate and House of Representatives; the members of the latter are
chosen every two years by the people; and those of the former, every six
years by the legislatures of the different states. It is in this branch
that the American government differs from the republics of ancient and
modern times; it is this which {351} makes it not a pure, but a
representative democracy; and it is this which gives it such a decided
superiority over all the governments in the world. Experience has
demonstrated the impracticability of assembling a numerous collection of
people to frame laws, and their incompetency, when assembled, for
judicious deliberation and prompt and unbiassed decision. The passions
of illiterate and unthinking men are easily roused into action and
inflamed to madness. Artful and designing demagogues are too apt to take
advantage of those imbecilities of our nature, and to convert them to
the basest purposes.
The qualifications of representatives are very simple. It is only
required that they should be citizens of the United States, and have
attained the age of twenty-five. The moment their period of service
expires, they are again, unless re-elected, reduced to the rank and
condition of citizens. If they should have acted in opposition to the
wishes and interests of their constituents, while performing the
functions of legislation, the people possess the remedy and can exercise
it without endangering the peace and harmony of society; the offending
member is dropped, and his place supplied by another, more worthy of
confidence. This consciousness of responsibility, on the part of the
representatives, operates as a perpetual guarantee to the people, and
protects and secures them in the enjoyment of their political and civil
liberties.
{352} It must be admitted that the Americans have attained the _Ultima
Thulé_ in representative legislation, and that they enjoy this
inestimable blessing to a much greater extent than the people of Great
Britain. Of the three distinct and independent branches of that
government, one only owes its existence to the free suffrages of the
people, and this, from the inequality of representation, the long
intervals between the periods of election, and the liability of members,
from this circumstance, to be corrupted, is not so important and useful
a branch as might otherwise be expected. Imperfect, however, as it is,
the people, without it, would indeed be slaves, and the government
nothing more than a pure monarchy.
The American walks abroad in the majesty of freedom; if he be innocent,
he shrinks not from the gaze of upstart and insignificant wealth, nor
sinks beneath the oppression of his fellow-man. Conscious of his rights
and of the security he enjoys, by the liberal institutions of his
country, independence beams in his eye, and humanity glows in his heart.
Has he done wrong? He knows the limits of his punishment, and the
character of his judges. Is he innocent? He feels that no power on earth
can crush him. What a condition is this, compared with that of the
subjects of almost all the European nations!
As long as it is preserved, the security of the citizen and the union of
the states, will be guaranteed, {353} and the country thus governed,
will become the home of the free, the retreat of misery, and the asylum
of persecuted humanity. As a written compact, it is a phenomenon in
politics, an unprecedented and perfect example of representative
democracy, to which the attention of mankind is now enthusiastically
directed. Most happily and exquisitely organized, the American
constitution is, in truth, at once "a monument of genius, and an edifice
of strength and majesty." The union of its parts forms its solidity, and
the harmony of its proportions constitutes its beauty. May it always be
preserved inviolate by the gallant and highminded people of America, and
may they never forget that its destruction will be the inevitable
death-blow of liberty, and the probable passport to universal despotism!
The speaker of the House of Representatives is Mr. Clay, a delegate from
Kentucky, and who, not long ago, acted a conspicuous part, as one of the
American commissioners at Ghent.[117] He is a tall, thin, and not very
muscular man; his gait is stately, but swinging; and his countenance,
while it indicates genius, denotes dissipation. As an orator, Mr. Clay
stands high in the estimation of his countrymen, but he does not possess
much gracefulness or elegance of manner; his eloquence is impetuous and
vehement; it rolls like a torrent, but like a torrent which is sometimes
irregular, and occasionally obstructed. Though there is a {354} want of
rapidity and fluency in his elocution, yet he has a great deal of fire
and vigour in his expression. When he speaks he is full of animation and
earnestness; his face brightens, his eye beams with additional lustre,
and his whole figure indicates that he is entirely occupied with the
subject on which his eloquence is employed. In action, on which
Demosthenes laid such peculiar emphasis, and which was so highly
esteemed among the ancients, Mr. Clay is neither very graceful nor very
imposing. He does not, in the language of Shakespear, "so suit the word
to the action, and the action to the word, as not to o'erstep the
modesty of nature." In his gesticulation and attitudes, there is
sometimes an uniformity and awkwardness that lessen his merit as an
orator, and in some measure destroy the impression and effect his
eloquence would otherwise produce. Mr. Clay does not seem to have
studied rhetoric as a science, or to have paid much attention to those
artificial divisions and rhetorical graces and ornaments on which the
orators of antiquity so strongly insist. Indeed, oratory as an art is
but little studied in this country. Public speakers here trust almost
entirely to the efficacy of their own native powers for success in the
different fields of eloquence, and search not for the extrinsic
embellishments and facilities of art. It is but rarely they unite the
Attic and Rhodian manner, and still more rarely do they devote their
attention to the acquisition {355} of those accomplishments which were,
in the refined ages of Greece and Rome, considered so essential to the
completion of an orator. Mr. Clay, however, is an eloquent speaker; and
notwithstanding the defects I have mentioned, very seldom fails to
please and convince. His mind is so organized that he overcomes the
difficulties of abstruse and complicated subjects, apparently without
the toil of investigation or the labour of profound research. It is
rich, and active, and rapid, grasping at one glance, connections the
most distant, and consequences the most remote, and breaking down the
trammels of error and the cobwebs of sophistry. When he rises to speak
he always commands attention, and almost always satisfies the mind on
which his eloquence is intended to operate. The warmth and fervor of his
feelings, and the natural impetuosity of his character, which seem to be
common to the Kentuckians, often indeed lead him to the adoption of
opinions, which are not, at all times, consistent with the dictates of
sound policy. Though ambitious and persevering, his intentions are good
and his heart is pure; he is propelled by a love of country, but yet is
solicitous of distinction; he wishes to attain the pinnacle of greatness
without infringing the liberties, or marring the prosperity of that land
of which it seems to be his glory to be a native.
{356} The prominent traits of Mr. Clay's mind are quickness,
penetration, and acuteness; a fertile invention, discriminating
judgment, and good memory. His attention does not seem to have been much
devoted to literary or scientific pursuits, unconnected with his
profession; but fertile in resources, and abounding in expedients, he is
seldom at a loss, and if he is not at all times able to amplify and
embellish, he but rarely fails to do justice to the subject which has
called forth his eloquence. On the most complicated questions, his
observations made immediately and on the spur of the occasion, are
generally such as would be suggested by long and deep reflection. In
short, Mr. Clay has been gifted by nature with great intellectual
superiority, which will always give him a decided influence in whatever
sphere it may be his destiny to revolve.
Mr. Clay's manners are plain and easy. He has nothing in him of that
reserve which checks confidence, and which some politicians assume; his
views of mankind are enlarged and liberal; and his conduct as a
politician and a statesman has been marked with the same enlarged and
liberal policy. As Speaker of the House of Representatives, he presides
generally with great dignity, and decides on questions of order,
sometimes, indeed, with too much precipitation, but almost always
correctly. It is but seldom his decisions are disputed, {357} and when
they are, they are not often reversed.[118]
"A Statesman," says Mirabeau, "presents to the mind the idea of a vast
genius improved by experience, capable of embracing the mass of social
interests, and of perceiving how to maintain true harmony among the
individuals of which society is composed, and an extent of information
which may give substance and union to the different operations of
government."
Mr. Pinkney[119] is between fifty and sixty years of age; his form is
sufficiently elevated and compact to be graceful, and his countenance,
though marked by the lines of dissipation, and rather too heavy, is not
unprepossessing or repulsive. His eye is rapid in its motion, and beams
with the animation of genius; but his lips are too thick, and his cheeks
too fleshy and loose for beauty; there is too a degree of foppery, and
sometimes of splendor, manifested in the decoration of his person, which
is not perfectly reconcileable to our {358} ideas of mental superiority,
and an appearance of voluptuousness about him which cannot surely be a
source of pride or of gratification to one whose mind is so capacious
and elegant. It is not improbable, however, that this character is
assumed merely for the purpose of exciting a higher admiration of his
powers, by inducing a belief that, without the labour of study or the
toil of investigation, he can attain the object of his wishes and become
eminent, without deigning to resort to that painful drudgery by which
meaner minds and inferior intellects are enabled to arrive at excellence
and distinction. At the first glance, you would imagine Mr. Pinkney was
one of those butterflies of fashion, _a dandy_, known by their
extravagant eccentricities of dress, and peculiarities of manners; and
no one could believe, from his external appearance, that he was, in the
least degree, intellectually superior to his fellow men. But Mr. Pinkney
is indeed a wonderful man, and one of those beings whom the lover of
human nature feels a delight in contemplating. His mind is of the very
first order; quick, expanded, fervid, and powerful. The hearer is at a
loss which most to admire, the vigour of his judgment, the fertility of
his invention, the strength of his memory, or the power of his
imagination. Each of these faculties he possesses in an equal degree of
perfection, and each is displayed in its full maturity, when the {359}
magnitude of the subject on which he descants renders its operation
necessary. This singular union of the rare and precious gifts of
nature, has received all the strength which education could afford, and
all the polish and splendour which art could bestow. Under the cloak of
dissipation and voluptuousness his application has been indefatigable,
and his studies unintermitted: the oil of the midnight lamp has been
exhausted, and the labyrinths of knowledge have been explored.
Mr. Pinkney is never unprepared, and never off his guard. He encounters
his subject with a mind rich in all the gifts of nature, and fraught
with all the resources of art and study. He enters the list with his
antagonist, armed, like the ancient cavalier, cap-a-pee; and is alike
prepared to wield the lance, or to handle the sword, as occasion may
require. In cases which embrace all the complications and intricacies of
law, where reason seems to be lost in the chaos of technical perplexity,
and obscurity and darkness assume the dignified character of science, he
displays an extent of research, a range of investigation, a lucidness of
reasoning, and a fervor and brilliancy of thought, that excite our
wonder, and elicit our admiration. On the driest, most abstract, and
uninteresting questions of law, when no mind can anticipate such an
occurrence, he occasionally blazes forth in all the enchanting
exuberance of a chastened, but rich {360} and vivid imagination, and
paints in a manner as classical as it is splendid, and as polished as it
is brilliant. In the higher grades of eloquence, where the passions and
feelings of our nature are roused to action, or lulled to tranquillity,
Mr. Pinkney is still the great magician, whose power is resistless, and
whose touch is fascination. His eloquence becomes sublime and
impassioned, majestic and overwhelming. In calmer moments, when these
passions are hushed, and more tempered feelings have assumed the place
of agitation and disorder, he weaves around you the fairy circles of
fancy, and calls up the golden palaces and magnificent scenes of
enchantment. You listen with rapture as he rolls along: his defects
vanish, and you are not conscious of any thing but what he pleases to
infuse. From his tongue, like that of Nestor, "language more sweet than
honey flows;" and the attention is constantly rivetted by the successive
operation of the different faculties of the mind. There are no awkward
pauses, no hesitation for want of words or of arguments: he moves
forward with a pace sometimes majestic, sometimes graceful, but always
captivating and elegant. His order is lucid, his reasoning logical, his
diction select, magnificent, and appropriate, and his style, flowing,
oratorical, and beautiful. The most laboured and finished composition
could not be better than that which he seems to utter {361}
spontaneously and without effort. His judgment, invention, memory, and
imagination, all conspire to furnish him at once with whatever he may
require to enforce, embellish, or illustrate his subject. On the dullest
topic he is never dry: and no one leaves him without feeling an
admiration of his powers, that borders on enthusiasm. His satire is
keen, but delicate, and his wit is scintillating and brilliant. His
treasure is exhaustless, possessing the most extensive and varied
information. He never feels at a loss; and he ornaments and illustrates
every subject he touches. _Nihil quod tetigit, non ornavit._ He is never
the same; he uses no common place artifice to excite a momentary thrill
of admiration. He is not obliged to patch up and embellish a few
ordinary thoughts, or set off a few meagre and uninteresting facts. His
resources seem to be as unlimited as those of nature; and fresh powers,
and new beauties are exhibited, whenever his eloquence is employed. A
singular copiousness and felicity of thought and expression, united to a
magnificence of amplification, and a purity and chastity of ornament,
give to his eloquence a sort of enchantment which it is difficult to
describe.
Mr. Pinkney's mind is in a high degree poetical; it sometimes wantons in
the luxuriance of its own creations; but these creations never violate
the purity of classical taste and elegance. He {362} loves to paint when
there is no occasion to reason; and addresses the imagination and
passions, when the judgment has been satisfied and enlightened. I speak
of Mr. Pinkney at present as a forensic orator. His career was too short
to afford an opportunity of judging of his parliamentary eloquence; and,
perhaps, like Curran, he might have failed in a field in which it was
anticipated he would excel, or, at least, retain his usual pre-eminence.
Mr. Pinkney, I think, bears a stronger resemblance to Burke than to
Pitt; but, in some particulars, he unites the excellences of both. He
has the fancy and erudition of the former, and the point, rapidity, and
elocution of the latter. Compared with his countrymen, he wants the
vigour and striking majesty of Clay, the originality and ingenuity of
Calhoun; but, as a rhetorician, he surpasses both. In his action, Mr.
Pinkney has, unfortunately, acquired a manner, borrowed, no doubt, from
some illustrious model, which is eminently uncouth and inelegant. It
consists in raising one leg on a bench or chair before him, and in
thrusting his right arm in a horizontal line from his side to its full
length in front. This action is uniform, and never varies or changes in
the most tranquil flow of sentiment, or the grandest burst of
impassioned eloquence. His voice, though not naturally good, has been
disciplined to modulation by art; and, if it is not always musical, it
is {363} never very harsh or offensive. Such is Mr. Pinkney as an
orator; as a diplomatist but little can be said that will add to his
reputation. In his official notes there is too much flippancy, and too
great diffuseness, for beauty or elegance of composition. It is but
seldom that the orator possesses the requisites of the writer; and the
fame which is acquired by the tongue sometimes evaporates through the
pen. As a writer he is inferior to the present Attorney-General,[120]
who unites the powers of both in a high degree, and thus in his own
person illustrates the position which he has laid down, as to the
universality of genius.
Mr. R. King is a senator from the State of New York, and was formerly
the resident minister at the court of St. James's.[121] He is now about
sixty years of age, above the middle size, and somewhat inclined to
corpulency. His countenance, when serious and thoughtful, possesses a
great deal of austerity and rigour; but at other moments it is marked
with placidity and benevolence. Among his friends he is facetious and
easy; but when with strangers, reserved and distant; apparently
indisposed to conversation, and inclined to taciturnity; but when called
out, his colloquial powers are of no ordinary character, and his
conversation becomes peculiarly instructive, fascinating, and humourous.
Mr. King has read and reflected much; and though long in public life,
his attention {364} has not been exclusively devoted to the political
sciences; for his information on other subjects is equally matured and
extensive. His resources are numerous and multiplied, and can easily be
called into operation. In his parliamentary addresses he always displays
a deep and intimate knowledge of the subject under discussion, and never
fails to edify and instruct if he ceases to delight. He has read history
to become a statesman, and not for the mere gratification it affords. He
applies the experience of ages, which the historical muse exhibits, to
the general purposes of government, and thus reduces to practice the
mass of knowledge with which his mind is fraught and embellished. As a
legislator he is, perhaps, inferior to no man in this country. The
faculty of close and accurate observation by which he is distinguished
has enabled him to remark and treasure up every fact of political
importance, that has occurred since the organization of the American
government; and the citizen, as well as the stranger, is often surprised
at the minuteness of his historical details, and the facility with which
they are applied. With the various subjects immediately connected with
politics, he has made himself well acquainted; and such is the strength
of his memory, and the extent of his information, that the accuracy of
his statements is never disputed. Mr. King, however, is somewhat of an
{365} enthusiast, and his feelings sometimes propel him to do that which
his judgment cannot sanction. When parties existed in this country, he
belonged to, and was considered to be the leader of what was denominated
the federal phalanx; and he has often, perhaps, been induced, from the
influence of party feeling, and the violence of party animosity, to
countenance measures that must have wounded his moral sensibilities; and
that now, when reason is suffered to dictate, cannot but be deeply
regretted. From a rapid survey of his political and parliamentary
career, it would appear that the fury of party has betrayed him into the
expression of sentiments, and the support of measures, that were, in
their character, revolting to his feelings; but whatever he may have
been charged with, his intentions, at least, were pure, and his
exertions, as he conceived, calculated for the public good. He was
indeed _cried down_ by a class of emigrants from the mother country, who
have far too great a sway in the political transactions of the United
States; and though, unquestionably, an ornament to the nation which has
given him birth, his countrymen, averse to him from party
considerations, joined in the cry, and he became a victim, perhaps, to
the duty he owed, and the love he bore to his country. Prejudice,
however, does not always continue, and the American people, with that
good sense which forms so prominent a feature of their character, are
beginning justly to appreciate those {366} virtues and talents, they
once so much decried. Mr. King has a sound and discriminating mind, a
memory uncommonly tenacious, and a judgment, vigorous, prompt, and
decisive. He either wants imagination, or is unwilling to employ a
faculty that he conceives only calculated to flatter and delight. His
object is more to convince and persuade, by the force of reason, than to
amuse the mind by the fantastic embroidery and gaudy festoonings of
fancy. His style of eloquence is plain, but bold and manly; replete with
argument, and full of intelligence; neither impetuous nor vehement, but
flowing and persuasive. His mind, like that of Fox, is historical; it
embraces consequences the most distant with rapidity and ease. Facts
form the basis of his reasoning. Without these his analysis is
defective, and his combinations and deductions are often incorrect. His
logic is not artificial, but natural: he abandons its formal divisions,
non-essentials, moods, and figures, to weaker minds, and adheres to the
substantials of natural reason. Of Mr. King's moral character I can say
nothing from my own personal knowledge, as my acquaintance with him has
not been long and intimate enough to enable me to judge correctly. I
have not, however, heard any thing alleged against it calculated to
lessen his reputation as an honourable statesman, or a virtuous member
of society. He is wealthy, and has, no doubt, something of pride and
hauteur in his manner, {367} offensive to the spirit of republicanism,
and inconsistent with the nature of equality; but, as a father, husband,
and friend, I have not yet heard him charged with any dereliction of
duty, or any violation of those principles which tend to harmonize
society, and to unite man to man by the bonds of affection and virtue. I
must now beg permission to despatch the portrait of Mr. King, in order
to submit to your inspection an imperfect likeness of another member of
the same body. This is not the country to look for the blazonry and
trappings of ancestry; merit alone claims and receives distinction; and
none but the fool or the simpleton, ever pretends to boast of his
ancestry and noble blood, or to offer it as a claim to respect or
preferment. The people alone form the tribunal to which every aspirant
for fame or honour must submit; and they are too enlightened and too
independent to favour insignificance, though surrounded by the splendour
of wealth, or to countenance stupidity, though descended from those who
were once illustrious and great.
James Barbour is a senator from Virginia, his native state.[122] He was
in his youth a deputy sheriff of the county in which he was born, and
received an education which was merely intended to fit him for an
ordinary station in life. He felt, however, superior to his condition,
and stimulated by that love of fame which often characterizes genius, he
devoted himself to study, and became {368} a practitioner of the law. He
rose rapidly in his profession, and soon acquired both wealth and
reputation. Like most of the barristers of this country, he conceived
that to be a lawyer was necessarily to be a politician, and he rushed
forward into public life to extend his fame and enlarge his sphere of
action. From a member of the house of delegates he was elevated to the
gubernatorial chair of Virginia, and received the highest honour his
native state could confer. Gratified thus far in the wishes he had
formed, he became desirous to enter on a more enlarged theatre, where
his talents would have a greater field of action, and his eloquence a
wider range and better effect, and he accepted the situation of senator
of the United States.
Mr. Barbour commenced his career with a speech against the establishment
of the national bank, which was then in agitation. He had come fraught
with prejudices against this mammoth institution, and in the fervor of
the moment gave vent to those prejudices in a manner certainly very
eloquent, but not very judicious. When he had soberly weighed the good
and evil with which it might be attended, the peculiar condition of his
country, and the necessity of adopting some scheme by which the
difficulties of government should be obviated, and its financial
embarrassment relieved, he very candidly confessed the error into which
his feelings had betrayed him, and {369} in a speech, conceived and
uttered in the very spirit of true eloquence, supported the measure.
Mr. Barbour is, in person, muscular and vigorous, and rather inclined to
corpulency. His eyebrows are thick and bushy, which gives to his
countenance a little too much the appearance of ferocity, but this is
counterbalanced by a peculiar expression in his visage, that conveys a
sentiment of mildness and humanity. He seems to be above forty years of
age, and is about five feet ten inches high. Of his mind, the prominent
characters are brilliancy and fervor. He has more imagination than
judgment, and more splendor than solidity. His memory is not very
retentive, because it has never been much employed, except to treasure
up poetical images, and to preserve the spangles and tinsel of oratory.
As an orator, Mr. Barbour has some great defects. His style is too
artificial and verbose, and he seems always more solicitous to shine and
dazzle than convince or persuade. He labours after splendid images, and
strives to fill the ear more with sound than sense. His sentences are
sometimes involved and complicated, replete with _sesquipedalia verba_,
and too much charged with "guns, trumpets, blunderbuss, and thunder." He
has unfortunately laid down to himself a model, which, with reverence be
it spoken, is not the best that could have been adopted. Curran has gone
a great way to corrupt the taste of the present age. His powers {370}
were certainly very extraordinary, but his taste was bad, and by
yielding too much to the impulse of a highly poetical imagination, he
filled the mind of his hearer with fine paintings indeed, and left it
at last glowing, but vacant, delighted, but unconvinced. Too many of the
youths of this country seem to be smitten with the model which he has
thus given, and which is certainly calculated to fire an ardent mind,
and lead it astray from the principles of correct taste and genuine
oratory. Mr. Barbour, however, is frequently not only very fluent but
very persuasive, and he often employs his full flowing oratorical style
to great advantage in setting off his argument, and in decorating and
enforcing his reasoning. From the want of opportunities, his reading,
like that of most of the politicians of this country, has been confined,
and his range of thought, from the absence of that knowledge which books
afford, is necessarily limited. He has, indeed, derived advantages from
an association with men of literary and scientific attainments, but he
has still much to acquire to render him eminent as a statesman. The
contributions, which, from this circumstance, he is compelled to levy on
his own unaided native resources, have, however, tended to sharpen his
intellectual powers, and to give them vivacity and quickness. Mr.
Barbour seldom thinks deeply, but he is always rapid; and though his
observations are sometimes trite and ordinary, there is almost always
something {371} new and gratifying in the manner in which they are
uttered. His mind does not appear organized for long continued
investigation, and nature has formed him more for a poet than a
mathematician. He is rather too anxious to be thought a great orator,
and this over-ruling propensity is manifested even in common
conversation; when, instead of ease, simplicity, and conciseness, he
discovers the formal elocution of the public speaker, on the most
unimportant and incidental subjects. In private circles, Mr. Barbour is
always very pleasant, and exhibits a politeness, which, flowing from
the heart rather than the head, delights all who have the pleasure of
his acquaintance, and renders him an acceptable guest, and an agreeable
companion.
There is a native openness and benevolence in his character, which
excite the love of all who know him, and which powerfully attract the
stranger as well as the friend. He seems superior to the grovelling
intrigues of party, and always expresses his feelings, in the bold and
lofty language of conscious independence and freedom. There is a marked
difference between this gentleman and his brother, Mr. Philip P.
Barbour,[123] a member of the House of Representatives, in the
respective faculties of their mind; the latter is more logical, and also
more laborious and indefatigable. He seems to have a peculiar tact for
those constitutional and legal questions which {372} are involved and
obscure, and possesses that clearness and vigor of mind necessary to
unfold what is complicated, and illuminate what is dark. He casts on
such subjects so powerful a light, that we wonder we should ever have
doubted, and behold at once the truth, stripped of all its obscurity.
The former seldom attempts an analysis of such questions. He reasons,
but his reasoning is not so much that of a mathematician, as of an
advocate who labours to surprise by his novelty, and to fascinate by the
ingenuity of his deductions, and the ease and beauty of his elocution.
He has more genius than his brother, but less judgment; more refinement
and elegance, but less vigor and energy. It appears to me that there is
a vast deal of what may be denominated _law mind_ in this country,
which will ultimately reach a point of excellence that must astonish the
world. The fondness for the profession of the law, at present, is
wonderful; almost every man, whatever be his means of support, or grade
in society, if he have children, endeavours to make one of them, at
least, a disciple of Coke, or a "fomentor of village vexation," and you
cannot enter a court-house, without being astonished at the number of
young men, who are either studying or practising the law. This, however,
is not a matter of surprise, when we consider the facility with which
this profession leads to preferment and distinction, and the ease with
which it seems to be acquired. Amidst such {373} a mass of _law mind_,
therefore, as exists here, excellence must hereafter be attained, if it
has not now reached its climax; and the Cokes, the Mansfields, and
Ellenboroughs of England are, or will soon be, equalled in this country.
The future destinies of this republic cannot be fully anticipated; the
march of mind is progressive and resistless, and intellectual
pre-eminence must be attained where so many inducements are offered to
effect, and so few impediments exist to prevent it. Mind is often
regulated by the circumstance in which it is placed, and fashioned by
the objects by which it is surrounded. This country is, therefore,
peculiarly favorable for the expansion and development of the
intellectual powers. Physical, as well as moral causes, operate to this
end. The eye of an American is perpetually presented with an outline of
wonderful magnificence and grandeur; every work of nature is here on a
vast and expansive scale; the mountains, and lakes, and rivers, and
forests, appear in a wild sublimity of grandeur, which renders the
mountains, lakes, and rivers of Europe, mere pigmies in comparison. The
political and religious freedom, too, which is here experienced,
removes all shackles, and gives an elasticity, a loftiness, and an
impetus to the mind that cannot but propel it to greatness. Thus
operated upon by moral and physical causes, what must be the ultimate
destiny of the people of this country, and the range and expansion of
intellect which they {374} will possess? Devoted as they are for the
most part to studies and professions, which have a tendency to enlarge
and liberalize the mind, and influenced by the causes I have mentioned,
it would be worse than stupidity to suppose they could long remain an
inferior people, or possibly avoid reaching that point of elevation of
which mankind are capable. The _law mind_ of this country has now
attained a high degree of splendor, and is in rapid progress to still
greater excellence. There are many men, in this country, though so much
calumniated by British writers, who would shed a lustre on the bench of
that nation, and not suffer by a comparison with some of the brightest
luminaries of English jurisprudence.
Before I quit this body of American worthies, I must introduce to your
acquaintance, as succinctly as possible, another member of the senate,
who, though not so conspicuous as the two former, in the walks of public
life, is not inferior to any in this country, in all that constitutes
and dignifies the patriot and the statesman. Mr. Roberts is from
Pennsylvania.[124] He is a plain farmer, and was, once, I understand, a
mechanic. Though he cannot boast of a liberal education, yet nature has
given him a mind, which, with early improvement, would have made him
prominent in any sphere in life. It is vigorous and powerful in no
ordinary degree, and the sophistry of art, and the dexterity of
learning, are often foiled and defeated {375} by the unaided and
spontaneous efforts of his native good sense. But he has that which is
of more sterling advantage, both to himself and his country,--immoveable
political and moral integrity. It is gratifying, in this age of
corruption and voluptuousness, to contemplate men like Aristides,
Fabricius, and Cato. They exhibit to us the true dignity of man, and
hold out examples that we must feel delighted to imitate. They show us
to what pitch of excellence man is capable of attaining, and rescue the
exalted condition of human nature from that odium and disgrace which
profligacy and corruption have heaped upon it. No spectacle can be more
sublime or more elevating than he, who, in the hour of public danger and
trial, and amidst the allurements and fascinations of vice, stands like
a rock in the ocean, placid and immoveable, and endures the dangers that
surround, and braves the storms and tempests that beat upon him, with
undeviating firmness, for the safety of his country and the glory of his
God! The mind rests upon such a character as the eye upon a spot of
fertility, amidst deserts of sand, and we rise from the blood-stained
page of history, and the corruptions of the living world, with a heart
filled with love, admiration, and reverence, by the contemplation of the
few who have shed an imperishable lustre on the exalted character of
man. This description is not exaggerated; it is drawn from nature and
truth, and {376} fancy has nothing to do with the picture. But I must
now hasten to finish my portraits of American characters.
Mr. Bagot,[125] the English minister to this government, appears to be
about thirty-five years of age. He is tall, elegant, and rather graceful
in his person, with a countenance open and ingenuous, an English
complexion, and eyes mild though dark. He has ingratiated himself with
the Americans, by the real or affected simplicity of his manners, and by
assimilating himself to their usages and customs. He has thrown aside
the reserve and hauteur of the English character, as not at all suited
to the meridian of this country, and attends to all with equal courtesy
and politeness. I can say nothing of the powers of his mind, but they do
not appear to be more than ordinary. It has always seemed to me very
strange policy on the part of the British cabinet, to appoint ministers
to this country of inferior capacity and inconsiderable reputation,
while the Americans send to our court only their most prominent and
leading men, who have distinguished themselves by their ability and
their eloquence.
The French minister, M. Hyde de Neuville,[126] is a "fat, portly
gentleman," with a broad chest, big head, and short neck, which he seems
almost incapable of turning _ad libitum_. He is full of {377} Bourbon
importance and French vivacity; has petits soupers every Saturday
evening during the winter, and spends his summer at the springs, or his
country residence, in extolling the virtues of his beloved Louis _le
desiré_. I do not think that M. Neuville, though an amiable, and, I
understand, a benevolent man, has that kind of talent which would
qualify him for the station he holds, or that, in the event of any
difficulty arising between this country and France, he could counteract
the intrigues of diplomatic ingenuity, or benefit his nation, by
inducing the American cabinet, though I believe he is highly esteemed,
to adopt any measure not manifestly advantageous to the United States.
He has been many years a resident of this country, and was driven from
France by the persecutions of Buonaparte. He is said to have evinced for
his exiled countrymen much feeling and interest, and to have given them,
while strangers and unknown in a foreign land, all the aid he could
afford. His acts of benevolence certainly redound to the credit of his
heart, and I should be sorry to say any thing that would disparage the
qualities of his head. He is too much occupied with his own, or other
people's concerns, to attend to the little or the complicated intrigues
of courts, and though he resides here as a representative, yet he now
represents a cypher.
* * * * *
{378} _4th_.--To tea with J. C. Wright, Esq., to meet a young man, Mr.
Dawson, who is giving up a school here to go as "Teacher to the Cherokee
nation of Indians." Much enthusiasm takes him there; little will be
needed to bring him back again. Since my return, Washington has been
visited by some very distant and interesting tribes of Indians, with the
following account of whom I have been favoured by a friend residing
there.
_Some account of the Indians who visited all the Chief Cities in
the Eastern States, and made a long stay in Washington in the
winter of 1821_.
These Indians were the chiefs and half-chiefs of tribes from the most
western part of this continent with which we are at all acquainted, and
came under the guidance of Major O'Fallan[127] from the Counsel
Bluffs.[128] All of them were men of large stature, very muscular,
having fine open countenances, with the real noble Roman nose, dignified
in their manners, and peaceful and quiet in their habits. There was no
instance of drunkenness among them during their stay here. The
circumstances which led to their visit were singular. A missionary, who
had been amongst them a few years back, on renewing his visit recently,
found an old chief, with whom he was acquainted, degraded from his rank,
and another appointed in his place. This led to inquiries after the
cause, which proved to be that this chief having, during a considerable
{379} absence from his tribe, visited some of the cities of the whites,
carried back such a report of their houses, ships, numbers, wealth, and
power, that they disbelieved his account, and degraded him as a man
unworthy of being longer their chief. They inquired of their
missionaries, who confirmed the statement, and they met in council with
other tribes, and resolved that a deputation should, in company with the
representative of the great father, "see if things were so," and if they
were, the chief should be reinstated. They have returned, saying the
"half was not told them." Red Jacket[129] (of whom you have heard) used
to say, that "the great spirit was too great a being to overlook red
men; that he listened to the talk of red men as well as to the talk of
white men;" but these natives of the forest thought the great spirit
favoured white men more than red. An anecdote is related of one of the
chiefs (a Pawnee) which is a well authenticated fact, and recorded by
Dr. Morse in his account of visits to the western regions.[130] The
tribe of the Pawnees had taken a woman prisoner from a neighbouring
tribe with whom they were at war, and, as was their custom, they made
every preparation to offer her a sacrifice to the great spirit. Every
thing was prepared, the wood, the green withes, and the fire, and the
victim, when this chief suddenly flew and seized her, carried her under
his arm to a neighbouring thicket, where {380} he had prepared horses
for her and himself, and riding away at speed, he, after three days'
travelling through the woods, returned her in safety to her tribe and
friends. This event was considered by the Pawnee tribe as an
interference of the great spirit in her favour, and on the return of the
chief no questions were asked him on that subject, nor has a woman been
offered a sacrifice by that tribe since. As a compliment justly due to
his gallant exploit, a number of ladies in this city had a medal made,
and presented to him in due form, in the presence of all the Indians; on
one side of which was represented the preparation for the sacrifice,
and on the reverse the chief running off with a woman under his arm, and
two horses stationed at a short distance, surmounted by this
inscription, "To the bravest of the Braves," (the Pawnees are also
called the Braves). These Indians excited so much interest from their
dignified personal appearance, and from their peaceful manner, that they
received a great number of rich presents, sufficient to fill six large
boxes in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington; these were
forwarded before they left us. Their portraits, which are gone with
them, were taken in oil by Mr. King in their native costume, buffalo
skins, with the hair inside, turned back at the neck and breast, which
looked very handsome, like fur collars. Eight, however, the chiefs and
{381} the squaw, Mr. King copied and keeps himself.[131] He received 400
dollars from _Uncle Sam_ for it. There was a notice in the papers that
the Indians would dance and display their feats in front of the
President's house on a certain day, which they did to at least 6,000
persons. They shewed their manner of sitting in council, their dances,
their war whoop, with the noises, gesticulations, &c. of the centinels
on the sight of an approaching enemy. They were in a state of perfect
nudity, except a piece of red flannel round the waist and passing
between the legs. They afterwards performed at the house of his
Excellency M. Hyde de Neuville. They were painted horribly, and
exhibited the operation of scalping and tomahawking in fine style.