ANNOUNCEMENT OF NATIONAL INDIVIDUALITY
The rebirth of nationalism, which followed the War of 1812 in the New
World, was likely sooner or later to come into conflict with the rebirth
of monarchy, which followed the Napoleonic wars in the Old World. The
restoration of the European monarchs had been witnessed by the American
people with a mingling of indignation and despair. Daily the conviction
grew that free government must find a home in America if it survived.
American self-government and a free people were arrayed in popular
thought against European monarchy and nobility. Commenting on the
accumulated wealth of the British nobility, an American editor said:
"Thanks be to Heaven! we have probably not one man in the United States
whose settled income is equal to a half of the least of these. But in
lieu of such great estates, we have a pleasing contrast to offer in
the vast majority we possess of persons who earn or receive from $1,000
to $1,500 a year, and who are the bone and sinew of our country and
the natural republicans of every clime." American newspapers lost no
opportunity of ridiculing European royalty. The cost of maintaining
the nobility was dwelt upon as a burden on the people. The attempt of
George IV. to divorce his Queen furnished a text for many republican
sermons. The coronation of the King in his "holy" and "sacred" vestments
was declared to be ridiculous. "We plain republicans," said one writer,
"cannot understand how there could be anything more like sacrilege in
stealing that mantle than in stealing a sheep."
The Church was prominent in all phases of the restoration of legitimacy
in Europe--a connection incomprehensible in America, where Church and
State had been completely severed in the course of the political
revolution. Disestablishment by statute in Virginia had been followed
by similar action in all States where the Established Church held.
Local constitutions as formed by the States guaranteed not toleration,
but absolute religious freedom. The first amendment to the Constitution
of the United States made this freedom national. The Ordinance for the
North-west Territory extended it to States yet unborn. Washington, as
President, gave assurance of non-interference in the replies which
he framed to addresses from the leading sects. Indeed, it is difficult
to imagine how a State church could have been maintained in the rapid
shifting of the Chief Executive. President Washington was an
Episcopalian, President Adams a Congregationalist, and President
Jefferson a free-thinker, or Unitarian of later times. So thoroughly
had Church and State been divorced in America that some suspicion was
aroused over a manifesto signed at St. Petersburg, on "the day of the
birth of our Saviour," 1816, by the monarchs of Austria, Russia, and
Prussia. It announced that "in conformity with the words of the Holy
Scripture, which commands all men to regard one another as brethren,"
the three agreed to lend each other assistance, aid, and support, and
to govern their subjects in "a spirit of fraternity for the protection
of religion, peace and justice." The exhortation of these monarchs to
their people to fortify themselves in the principles of the Saviour,
no less than the confession that they themselves ruled only by a
delegation of power from Christ, was regarded by the Protestant
Americans as religious cant. The power behind the throne was more
likely force of arms. The provision that other nations professing these
principles should be "received with as much readiness as affection in
this holy alliance" was regarded as a bid and possible conspiracy for
the extension of legitimacy not alone to Europe, but to the colonial
holdings as well.
The United States, although sneering at the legitimacy of European
monarchs and disappointed in seeing their high hopes in the French
Revolution brought to such a defeat, had no vital interest in any
restoration save within the Spanish colonies in America, which had
revolted under Napoleonic interference. British Canada had made no
attempt at revolution and France had no possessions on the American
Continent. The United States had watched eagerly and sympathetically
the spread of revolutionary principles from colony to colony in the
Spanish-American possessions, and the resulting institution of
self-government. Orators vied with each other in picturing the spread
of freedom in the New World. Statesmen drew up constitutions for the
new republics. Clay was given a vote of thanks by the Mexican Congress
for his sentiments expressed for their welfare. Ministers had been
sent to them as rapidly as they showed ability to govern themselves
and to maintain a stable government. Should all this good work be
undone and the hands turned backward on the dial of liberty by
conspiring European monarchs? Should legitimacy cast its blight again
on the New World as it had already done on the Old? Should the Holy
Alliance be allowed to extend its monarchical compulsion to the
Spanish-American republics under the sacred garb of religion?
Speculation was rife in both British and American newspapers concerning
the objects of this holy league, or Holy Alliance, as it began to be
called. To some it smacked of Inquisition days. To others it suggested
a crusade on all republican principles. In the House of Commons
Castlereagh explained that it contemplated no hostility to States
outside the Church and that it was couched in the mildest spirit of
Christian toleration. He confessed that it was drawn up in an unusual
manner, but that it nevertheless gave no grounds whatever for
entertaining the slightest jealousy.
England had assisted in the restoration of monarchy. Would Protestant
England join the Holy Alliance? Would the Alliance turn its attention
to the Spanish-American republics after it had carried out its evident
determination to replace Ferdinand on the Spanish throne? These were
questions asked by the people of the United States. If Europe was to
become the champion of monarchy and legitimacy, why should not America
become the guardian of freedom and republicanism? Undoubtedly the
tendency of Russia to creep quietly down the Pacific coast from her
north-west possessions contributed to the conviction that the offices
of the Holy Alliance could be called into service in that quarter also
if necessary. It is just as true that the struggle for autonomy which
the Greeks were instituting attracted sympathy in America and added
to the conviction that a world struggle was imminent between monarchy
and republicanism.
That destiny had marked the United States for an unparalleled career
had been a common saying since the days of Patrick Henry. But that
isolation from European entanglements was necessary to fulfil it was
equally appreciated. Washington had expressed this conviction in his
farewell address. Jefferson had been goaded into the wish that an ocean
of fire separated the two hemispheres. Madison in 1811, fearing that
Great Britain intended interfering in Florida affairs, questioned
whether the United States should not announce that it could not see,
"without serious inquietude," neighbouring territory pass from Spain
to any other foreign power. "The provinces belonging to this hemisphere
are our neighbors," said President Monroe in a special message to
Congress in 1822. "The foothold which the nations of Europe had in
either America is slipping from under them," wrote ex-President
Jefferson to Monroe, "so that we shall soon be rid of their
neighborhood." "The American continents are no longer subjects for any
new European colonial establishments," said Secretary of State John
Quincy Adams to the Russian Minister, in discussing the proper limits
of Russian America on the north-west coast. The United States
representative to England was authorised by Adams to announce the fact
that the American continents would be no longer subject to European
colonisation. Occupied by civilised, independent nations, they would
be accessible to Europeans and to each other on that footing alone.
The United States "should therefore have a system of her own separate
and apart from that of Europe," replied Jefferson to President Monroe,
who had consulted him in the autumn of 1823 concerning the various
topics to be treated in his annual message to Congress. "While the
last is laboring to become the domicile of despotism, our endeavor
should surely be to make our hemisphere that of freedom." He agreed
upon the advisability of some public notice. "Its object is to introduce
and establish the American system of keeping out of our land all foreign
powers, of never permitting those of Europe to intermeddle with the
affairs of our nation." Since such a stand might bring war, he advised
Monroe to present the matter to Congress at the coming session in the
shape of a declaration of principles.
These utterances of public men backed by the increasing feeling of
nationality among the people assumed final shape in the announcement
by Monroe in his seventh annual message to Congress, December, 1823,
of the famous "doctrine" which bears his name. It strongly hinted that
the United States would interpose against any European attempt to
interfere with the freedom of the South American republics or to extend
farther the monarchical system to the New World. At the same time, it
denied any intention on the part of the United States of interfering
with European affairs. It meant the future separation of the two
hemispheres so far as control was concerned. The only exceptions at
the time were England in Canada, Spain in the West Indies, and Russia
on the north-west coast. It meant self-preservation for the present
and proper precautions for the future.
The announcement created little comment at home. The people generally
are not in touch with presidential messages unless some concrete case
is involved. The Holy Alliance had taken as yet no overt action toward
the New World. In Europe the announcement attracted more attention.
Before this time, it had been said in the British Commons that the
Congress of Vienna should have seen to the balance of power in the New
as well as the Old World. Another speaker had called attention to the
fact that two German princes could not exchange meadows without
attracting European attention in a congress, but that the United States
was allowed to take any stand or acquire any territory in a vast
continent. But British sentiment had now turned against the Holy
Alliance, and the British press pronounced the Monroe doctrine "noble
and firm, yet temperate and pacific." They contrasted its "manly
plainness" with the Machiavellism and hypocrisy of the European
manifestos. "Intervention in South American affairs," said one writer,
"may now be considered as at rest. The United States would resist by
war and no power is willing to affront both the United States and Great
Britain." The French press belittled the announcement as the personal
expression of "a temporary president of a republic only forty years
old." It also called attention to the fact that this republic, which
was so boldly proclaiming the severance of the Western world, was
bounded on the north by the possessions of the king of England and on
the south by those of the king of Spain--a pretty situation for the
self-appointed protector of the two Americas!
The Monroe doctrine, or "policy" as it should be called, spoke the
sentiment of nationality engendered by the late war and augmented until
it had assumed the cry of "America for Americans!" The acquisition of
Louisiana and the Floridas, the absence of political parties, and the
appreciation of republican blessings were the prime causes. The
announcement marked the climax of unionism for the time. The sectional
fears aroused by the slavery issue in Missouri three years before had
been quieted by a compromise and were now forgotten in a national
alliance against foreign menace. The announcement inaugurated a period
of isolation for the United States, during which she could gain strength
to meet her European rivals on equal ground instead of becoming a tool
for them. Never again would she be caught in an entangling alliance
such as that with France in 1778.
If American national feeling had diminished after the announcement,
the doctrine of American individuality and of American destiny would
have waned and disappeared. That the policy has been expanded until
it covers nearly every phase of foreign relationship in the New World,
that a simple announcement which grew out of a condition has been made
into an expression of American paramount interest, that it has become
a national fetich although unrecognised as a part of international
law,--all this is a fresh indication of the steady growth of national
sentiment and activity.
Just in the full flush of the announcement, a more zealous race with
a more fiery temperament than the Americans might have gone too far.
The temptation was presented most attractively. The South Americans,
the antipodals of the North Americans, saw in the Monroe announcement
a protection from European interference. Several of the republics
planned a congress at the central city of Panama, "to settle a general
system of American policy in relation to Europe, leaving to each section
of the country a perfect liberty of independent self-government." They
hoped for a gathering of "the powers of America" to offset the powers
of Europe. An alliance against an Alliance was the thought. Among the
objects to be considered was "the manner in which all the colonization
of European powers on the American continent shall be resisted, and
their interference in the present contest between Spain and her former
colonies prevented." Since this was simply a re-statement of the Monroe
doctrine, it was presumed that the United States would take a leading
part; but because the abolition of slavery was another point to be
considered, the pro-slavery element in Congress overruled the wish of
President Adams to take part in the meeting. It was also feared that
a participation might involve the United States in the prevailing war
between Spain and the South American republics.
The interesting but profitless field of speculation might be exhausted
in imagining the result if the United States had thus linked herself
to the Spanish Americas in an American alliance. The problem of securing
the trade of those republics, which has occupied the attention of many
statesmen since that day, might have yielded to this solution; but
that any permanent alliance could have been made between peoples of
antagonistic temperament and varying ideals of self-government is far
from likely. Many times since then the growing American spirit has
demanded that Uncle Sam should become the policeman of America; but
the narrow escape in this instance from incurring such an undesirable
task leads to the hope that it will never be assumed.
Leadership in the "let us alone" policy was taken by the United States
as the result of her geographic isolation, as well as her centrality
of location. She was nearest to the new republics and had most to lose.
Eliminating Canada as a British possession and Brazil with an enervating
climate and Latin leadership, the United States was the only power
whose size and resources entitled her to speak with authority on the
question of European interference. The Monroe doctrine was primarily
intracontinental and for immediate self-preservation; secondarily it
was extracontinental and for ultimate self-preservation. England, the
only European New World power remaining of the six whose discoveries
originally entitled them to that distinction, was equally interested
in the preservation of Canada and the freedom of trade which the
independence of the Spanish-American republics made possible. She
rejected the Holy Alliance to support the Monroe doctrine. Without
British co-operation it is doubtful whether the stand could have been
maintained and the Holy Alliance held in check. This cooperation brought
about a speedy _rapprochement_ between the two recent enemies. It was
hastened by the diplomatic skill of Gallatin in arranging for a joint
occupation of the region west of the Rocky Mountains commonly known
as the Oregon country. By the treaties of 1818 and 1827, final decision
was delayed until increasing population should aid in deciding
ownership.
Nationality had been breeding constantly in directions aside from
foreign policy, protective tariffs, and internal improvements. A
literary independence was manifesting itself, although in a crude form.
The sneers of Britain that the Americans were dependent upon Europe
for their literature, although indignantly denied, were largely true.
American publishers had been long accustomed to reprint English works,
upon which, in the absence of an international copyright law, they
paid no royalties. Byron, Wordsworth, Scott, Coleridge, Keats, Moore,
Hallam, Maria Edgeworth, and Miss Austen were made available to American
readers in this way. In any parlour a young woman would be found who
could sing _Bonnie Doon_ or recite from _The Lady of the Lake_. A
review of _Don Juan_ appeared in a magazine published in central
Kentucky within six weeks after it was first printed in England.
Democracy and nature were the subjects mostly adopted by these English
writers, and they appealed quite naturally to New World readers. As
Lowell, at a later time, said of the Americans of this period:
"They stole Englishmen's books and thought Englishmen's thoughts;
With English salt on her tail, our wild Eagle was caught."
[Illustration: WASHINGTON IRVING. From the etching by Jacques Reich.]
So dependent were the States, that a publisher who dared to bring out
a native work did so at a financial peril. The first edition of
Trumbull's _Poems_ lost one thousand dollars. Morse's Geography,
text-books, and the classics were the only remunerative publications.
But soon after the War of 1812, evidences of a change were manifest.
The attention of American writers heretofore had been occupied largely
with the rights of man and other political theories borrowed from the
Old World. Democracy had now adjusted itself to the conditions of the
New World and had become practical. Wild-eyed theory had given way to
plain fact. Economic questions, begotten of the new domestic conditions,
were beginning to occupy public attention. Abstract political rights
became secondary to the price and production of cotton, the
encouragement of manufactures, the invention of machinery, means of
transportation, the employment of emigrants, and the economic value
of the slavery system. In 1819, Irving refused a remunerative offer
to contribute to the _London Quarterly_, because it had been unremitting
in its abuse of his countrymen. He preferred to patronise a home
publication.
This declaration of literary independence was indicative of the times.
Between the close of the war and the end of Jackson's second
administration, probably one hundred and fifty periodicals, entirely
separate from the newspapers, were established in the United States.
About one-third of them was of a religious character, and as many more
devoted to some kind of philanthropic purpose, like temperance, African
colonisation, and missionary work. Their nature may be indicated by
such titles as _The New York Mirror_, _The Casket_, _The Evangelical
Guardian_, _The Portico_, _The Lady Book_, _The Boston Pearl_, _The
Cincinnati Mirror_, and _The Family Lyceum_. Many of these lived only
a year or two, yet they show a desire among the people for a native
literature, however crude and sentimental it might be. During this
period also came the evanescent "Annual," a species of vapid literature
borrowed from Germany through England. Upon the centre-table, near the
case of stuffed birds, you could find _The Token_ or _The Pearl_.
Perhaps the giver had preferred _The Casket_ or _The Western Souvenir_.
Symptoms of a more advanced regard were denoted by the choice of the
_Remember Me_.
The largest number of these ephemeral periodicals appeared in New York,
and the next largest in Philadelphia. Boston ranked third. Philadelphia,
the home of Franklin, of Hopkinson, and of Rittenhouse, had been the
literary head of America before the War of 1812. So long as the Ohio
River remained the natural highway to the West, her literary products
found a market which no competitor could take away. But with the
development of other ways, and especially with the opening of the Erie
Canal, New York and Boston gradually won these laurels from her.
Indeed, the West began to supply its own wants. Of these transitory
publications, no less than seventeen were established west of the
Alleghenies. As early as 1803, a literary magazine had been founded
at Lexington, Kentucky, the seat of the Transylvania University and
the centre of culture for the Ohio valley. Even villages aspired to
be "the Athens of the West." Mt. Pleasant and Oxford in the State of
Ohio vied with Rogersville, Tennessee, and Vandalia, Illinois, in
establishing literary magazines and fostering literary pursuits.
All this marks simply a stage in the development of American literature,
as it shows a step in the growth of American nationality. Permanent
literature awaited better printing facilities, larger patronage of
letters, improved postal accommodations, the growth of cities, and
more leisure and more refinement. Prophecies of a true national
awakening are to be sought not alone in the Monroe doctrine, the tariff
and bank issues, and the spread of internal improvements,--political
events which commonly eclipse the intellectual aspects of nationality;
but also in the Unitarian revolt of 1815, led by Channing, which loosed
New England from the stiffening bonds of Calvinism, the Quaker schism
in the Middle States, and the birth of the Campbellites in the West.
The goodness of man was beginning to attract more attention than the
total depravity of man. The _North American Review_ was founded in
1815. Four years later, Irving published the _Sketch-Book_. Bryant's
first volume of poems, treating generally of local themes, appeared
in 1820. During the ensuing ten years Cooper gave out eleven novels,
the scenes of which were laid almost exclusively in America. Only the
world-reform movement of 1830 was needed to develop fully an American
literature.
Although not so immediately connected with the people, this story must
not lose sight of another function of the government of the States
which was steadily making for their unification. The Federal Judiciary,
the one branch of the national frame which the Republicans in their
twenty years of national control had not been able to curb or get
possession of, was following the bias which John Marshall's first
decisions gave to it. Abuses in the Legislative and Executive branches
could be corrected by an appeal to the ballot. Substantial proof of
the efficacy of this corrective was to be found in the Alien and
Sedition laws, according to the Republicans. They claimed to have
appealed to the people in the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, and
the people had cast the offending party from power. But the Judiciary
was entrenched in life tenure and not susceptible to this remedy. It
was a constant regret to Jefferson to the end of his life that the
corrective measures taken by him and his party against the national
courts had not included an amendment changing the life tenure of the
judges to a definite period of years. The idea of a permanent Judiciary
had been one of the results of the political struggle with Great Britain
preceding the Revolution. Jefferson also regretted that no one in the
Convention of 1787 had thought of changing the vote necessary for
removing a judge by impeachment from two-thirds to a majority.
Year after year, during the Republican administrations, the national
Judiciary had been quietly shoring up by its decisions the fabric of
the Union, as fate compelled the Jeffersonians to erect it. The
"formative decisions" of John Marshall, during his thirty-four years
on the Supreme bench, maintained constantly the rights of the Federal
courts and added to the prerogatives of the Central Government against
the States. Scarcely a decision favoured the reserved rights theory.
By the opinion in Marbury _vs_. Madison, already quoted, the Executive
branch, presumably entirely divorced from the Judiciary, was found to
be under a certain control. The case of Cohens _vs_. Virginia sustained
the power of the Federal court over an appeal from a State court. It
often happened that in a decision, as in the case of Insurance Company
_vs_. Canter, Marshall took occasion to bring out deductions remotely
germane to the pending case, but tending to broaden the scope of the
Federal power. In this instance, he declared that the constitutional
power to make a treaty carried the implied power to acquire territory.
This really gave authority to unauthorised acts of the Republicans in
purchasing Louisiana; but their remedy was an amendment and not a
decision which made the legislative and executive powers still more
dependent upon the judiciary.
Jefferson complained of these "obiter dissertations," which suggested
consolidating actions to other parts of the Federal Government. In the
trial of Aaron Burr for treason, Justice Marshall held that, according
to the Constitution, some overt act was necessary to constitute treason.
This practical release of his former political opponent was to Jefferson
as sore a grievance as Marshall's action in sending to him for certain
papers connected with the case. He declared the latter act a
presumptuous infringement upon the dignity of the Chief Executive.
The case of McCulloch _vs_. Maryland, in 1819, denying the right of
a State to tax a branch of the United States bank, afforded the court
an opportunity of dwelling upon the implied powers in the Constitution
and of giving judicial sanction to the various legislative acts already
done under them. To charter a bank was not among the powers given to
the National Government, but was "implied," as Marshall held. The
decision gave great offence to the particularists and called general
attention to this silent Union-making factor. Various Southern writers
took up pens against this new menace to individual rights. Some State
Legislatures adopted protests. Madison alluded sarcastically to the
"projectile capacity" of the court, whereby it extended the power of
Congress from the exclusive jurisdiction reserve of ten miles square
constituting the District, even to the uttermost parts of the country.
The "twistifications" of Marshall, said Jefferson, showed how
dexterously he could reconcile law to his personal biasses. Indeed,
Jefferson confessed that he did not look for unbiassed opinions between
the National Government, of which the court was so eminent a part, and
individual States, from which they had nothing to fear. "They are then
in fact the corps of sappers and miners," said he, "steadily working
to undermine the independent rights of the States, and to consolidate
all powers in the hands of that Government in which they have so
important a freehold estate." He could see no hope for the future.
Even more would he have despaired if he could have known that this
silent factor in making the Union was to continue until the eighty
years of John Marshall's life were ended, before a strict
constructionist could be appointed to the head of the court and bring
its decisions back to the confines of individualism.
[Illustration: JOHN MARSHALL Chief Justice of the United States, 1801-
1836.]