BY E.L. GODKIN

American experience has been frequently cited, in the course of the

controversy now raging in England over the Irish question, both by way

of warning and of example. For instance, I have found in the _Times_ as

well as in other journals--the _Spectator_, I think, among the

number--very contemptuous dismissals of the plan of offering Ireland a

government like that of an American State, on the ground that the

Americans are loyal to the central authority, while in Ireland there is

a strong feeling of hostility to it, which would probably increase under

Home Rule. The Queen's writ, it has been remarked, cannot be said to run

in large parts of Ireland, while in every part of the United States the

Federal writ is implicitly obeyed, and the ministers of Federal

authority find ready aid and sympathy from the people. If I remember

rightly, the Duke of Argyll has been very emphatic in pointing out the

difference between giving local self-government to a community in which

the tendencies of popular feeling are "centrifugal," and giving it to

one in which these tendencies are "centripetal." The inference to be

drawn was, of course, that as long as Ireland disliked the Imperial

government the concession of Home Rule would be unsafe, and would only

become safe when the Irish people showed somewhat the same sort of

affection for the English connection which the people of the State of

New York now feel for the Constitution of the United States.

Among the multitude of those who have taken part in the controversy on

one side or the other, no one has, so far as I have observed, pointed

out that the state of feeling in America toward the central government

with which the state of feeling in Ireland towards the British

Government is now compared, did not exist when the American Constitution

was set up; that the political tendencies in America at that time were

centrifugal, not centripetal, and that the extraordinary love and

admiration with which Americans now regard the Federal government are

the result of eighty years' experience of its working. The first

Confederation was as much as the people could bear in the way of

surrendering local powers when the War of Independence came to an end.

It was its hopeless failure to provide peace and security which led to

the framing of the present Constitution. But even with this experience

still fresh, the adoption of the Constitution was no easy matter. I

shall not burden this article with historical citations showing the very

great difficulty which the framers of the Constitution had in inducing

the various States to adopt it, or the magnitude and variety of the

fears and suspicions with which, many of the most influential men in all

parts of the country regarded it. Any one who wishes to know how

numerous and diversified these fears and suspicions were, cannot do

better than read the series of papers known as "The Federalist," written

mainly by Hamilton and Madison, to commend the new plan to the various

States. It was adopted almost as a matter of necessity, that is, as the

only way out of the Slough of Despond in which the Confederation had

plunged the union of the States; but the objections to it which were

felt at the beginning were only removed by actual trial. Hamilton's two

colleagues, as delegates from New York, Yates and Lansing, withdrew in

disgust from the Convention, as soon as the Constitution was outlined,

and did not return. The notion that the Constitution was produced by the

craving of the American people for something of that sort to love and

revere, and that it was not bestowed on them until they had given ample

assurance that they would lavish affection on it, has no foundation

whatever in fact. The devotion of Americans to the Union is, indeed, as

clear a case of cause and effect as is to be found in political history.

They have learned to like the Constitution because the country has

prospered under it, and because it has given them all the benefits of

national life without interference with local liberties. If they had not

set up a central government until the centrifugal sentiment had

disappeared from the States, and the feeling of loyalty for a central

authority had fully shown itself, they would assuredly never have set it

up at all.

Moreover, it has to be borne in mind that the adoption of the

Constitution did not involve the surrender of any local franchises, by

which the people of the various States set great store. The States

preserved fully four-fifths of their autonomy, or in fact nearly all of

it which closely concerned the daily lives of individuals. Set aside the

post-office, and a citizen of the State of New York, not engaged in

foreign trade, might, down to the outbreak of the Civil War, have passed

a long and busy life without once coming in contact with a United States

official, and without being made aware in any of his doings, by any

restriction or regulation, that he was living under any government but

that of his own State. If he went abroad he had to apply for a United

States passport. If he quarrelled with a foreigner, or with the citizen

of another State, he might be sued in the Federal Court. If he imported

foreign goods he had to pay duties to the collector of a Federal

Custom-house. If he invented something, or wrote a book, he had to

apply to the Department of the Interior for a patent or a copyright. But

how few there were in the first seventy years of American history who

had any of these experiences! No one supposes, or has ever supposed,

that had the Federalists demanded any very large sacrifice of local

franchises, or attempted to set up even a close approach to a

centralized Government, the adoption of the Constitution would have been

possible. If, for instance, such a transfer of both administration and

legislation to the central authority as took place in Ireland after the

Union had been proposed, it would have been rejected with derision. You

will get no American to argue with you on this point. If you ask him

whether he thinks it likely that a highly centralized government could

have been created in 1879--such a one, for example, as Ireland has been

under since 1800--or whether if created it would by this time have won

the affection of the people, or filled them with centripetal tendencies,

he will answer you with a smile.

The truth is that nowhere, any more than in Ireland, do people love

their Government from a sense of duty or because they crave an object of

political affection, or even because it exalts them in the eyes of

foreigners. They love it because they are happy or prosperous under it;

because it supplies security in the form best suited to their tastes and

habits, or in some manner ministers to their self-love. Loyalty to the

king as the Lord's anointed, without any sense either of favours

received or expected, has played a great part in European politics, I

admit; but, for reasons which I will not here take up space in stating,

a political arrangement, whether it be an elected monarch or a

constitution, cannot be made, in our day, to reign in men's hearts

except as the result of benefits so palpable that common people, as well

as political philosophers, can see them and count them.

Many of the opponents of Home Rule, too, point to the vigour with which

the United States Government put down the attempt made by the South to

break up the Union as an example of the American love of "imperial

unity," and of the spirit in which England should now meet the Irish

demands for local autonomy. This again is rather surprising, because you

will find no one in America who will maintain for one moment that troops

could have been raised in 1860 to undertake the conquest of the South

for the purpose of setting up a centralized administration, or, in other

words, for the purpose of wiping out State lines, or diminishing State

authority. No man or party proposed anything of this kind at the

outbreak of the war, or would have dared to propose it. The object for

which the North rose in arms, and which Lincoln had in view when he

called for troops, was the restoration of the Union just as it was when

South Carolina seceded, barring the extension of slavery into the

territories. During the first year of the war, certainly, the revolted

States might at any time have had peace on the _status quo_ basis, that

is, without the smallest diminution of their rights and immunities under

the Constitution. It was only when it became evident that the war would

have to be fought out to a finish, as the pugilists say--that is, that

it would have to end in a complete conquest of the Southern

territory--that the question, what would become of the States as a

political organization after the struggle was over, began to be debated

at all. What did become of them? How did Americans deal with Home Rule,

after it had been used to set on foot against the central authority what

the newspapers used to delight in calling "the greatest rebellion the

world ever saw"? The answer to these questions is, it seems to me, a

contribution of some value to the discussion of the Irish problem in its

present stage, if American precedents can throw any light whatever on

it.

There was a Joint Committee of both Houses of Congress appointed in

1866 to consider the condition of the South with reference to the safety

or expediency of admitting the States lately in rebellion to their old

relations to the Union, including representation in Congress. It

contained, besides such fanatical enemies of the South as Thaddeus

Stevens, such very conservative men as Mr. Fessenden, Mr. Grimes, Mr.

Morrill, and Mr. Conkling. Here is the account they gave of the

condition of Southern feeling one year after Lee's surrender:--

"Examining the evidence taken by your committee still further, in

connection with facts too notorious to be disputed, it appears that the

Southern press, with few exceptions, and those mostly of newspapers

recently established by Northern men, abounds with weekly and daily

abuse of the institutions and people of the loyal States; defends the

men who led, and the principles which incited, the rebellion; denounces

and reviles Southern men who adhered to the Union; and strives

constantly and unscrupulously, by every means in its power, to keep

alive the fire of hate and discord between the sections; calling upon

the President to violate his oath of office, overturn the Government by

force of arms, and drive the representatives of the people from their

seats in Congress. The national banner is openly insulted, and the

national airs scoffed at, not only by an ignorant populace, but at

public meetings, and once, among other notable instances, at a dinner

given in honour of a notorious rebel who had violated his oath and

abandoned his flag. The same individual is elected to an important

office in the leading city of his State, although an unpardoned rebel,

and so offensive that the President refuses to allow him to enter upon

his official duties. In another State the leading general of the rebel

armies is openly nominated for Governor by the Speaker of the House of

Delegates, and the nomination is hailed by the people with shouts of

satisfaction, and openly endorsed by the press....

"The evidence of an intense hostility to the Federal Union, and an

equally intense love of the late Confederacy, nurtured by the war is

decisive. While it appears that nearly all are willing to submit, at

least for the time being, to the Federal authority, it is equally clear

that the ruling motive is a desire to obtain the advantages which will

be derived from a representation in Congress. Officers of the Union army

on duty, and Northern men who go south to engage in business, are

generally detested and proscribed. Southern men who adhered to the Union

are bitterly hated and relentlessly persecuted. In some localities

prosecutions have been instituted in State courts against Union officers

for acts done in the line of official duty, and similar prosecutions are

threatened elsewhere as soon as the United States troops are removed.

All such demonstrations show a state of feeling against which it is

unmistakably necessary to guard.

"The testimony is conclusive that after the collapse of the Confederacy

the feeling of the people of the rebellious States was that of abject

submission. Having appealed to the tribunal of arms, they had no hope

except that by the magnanimity of their conquerors, their lives, and

possibly their property, might be preserved. Unfortunately the general

issue of pardons to persons who had been prominent in the rebellion, and

the feeling of kindliness and conciliation manifested by the Executive,

and very generally indicated through the Northern press, had the effect

to render whole communities forgetful of the crime they had committed,

defiant towards the Federal Government, and regardless of their duties

as citizens. The conciliatory measures of the Government do not seem to

have been met even half-way. The bitterness and defiance exhibited

towards the United States under such circumstances is without a parallel

in the history of the world. In return for our leniency we receive only

an insulting denial of our authority. In return for our kind desire for

the resumption of fraternal relations we receive only an insolent

assumption of rights and privileges long since forfeited. The crime we

have punished is paraded as a virtue, and the principles of republican

government which we have vindicated at so terrible a cost are denounced

as unjust and oppressive.

"If we add to this evidence the fact that, although peace has been

declared by the President, he has not, to this day, deemed it safe to

restore the writ of _habeas corpus_, to relieve the insurrectionary

States of martial law, nor to withdraw the troops from many localities,

and that the commanding general deems an increase of the army

indispensable to the preservation of order and the protection of loyal

and well-disposed people in the South, the proof of a condition of

feeling hostile to the Union and dangerous to the Government throughout

the insurrectionary States would seem to be overwhelming."

This Committee recommended a series of coercive measures, the first of

which was the adoption of the fourteenth amendment to the Constitution,

which disqualified for all office, either under the United States or

under any State, any person who having in any capacity taken an oath of

allegiance to the United States afterwards engaged in rebellion or gave

aid and comfort to the rebels. This denied the _jus honorum_ to all the

leading men at the South who had survived the war. In addition to it, an

Act was passed in March, 1867, which put all the rebel States under

military rule until a constitution should have been framed by a

Convention elected by all males over twenty-one, except such as would be

excluded from office by the above-named constitutional amendment if it

were adopted, which at that time it had not been. Another Act was passed

three weeks later, prescribing, for voters in the States lately in

rebellion, what was known as the "ironclad oath," which excluded from

the franchise not only all who had borne arms against the United States,

but all who, having ever held any office for which the taking an oath of

allegiance to the United States was a qualification, had afterwards ever

given "aid or comfort to the enemies thereof." This practically

disfranchised all the white men of the South over twenty-five years old.

On this legislation there grew up, as all the world now knows, what was

called the "carpet-bag" _regime_. Swarms of Northern adventurers went

down to the Southern States, organized the ignorant negro voters,

constructed State constitutions to suit themselves, got themselves

elected to all the chief offices, plundered the State treasuries,

contracted huge State debts, and stole the proceeds in connivance with

legislatures composed mainly of negroes, of whom the most intelligent

and instructed had been barbers and hotel-waiters. In some of the

States, such as South Carolina and Mississippi, in which the negro

population were in the majority, the government became a mere

caricature. I was in Columbia, the capital of South Carolina, in 1872,

during the session of the legislature, when you could obtain the passage

of almost any measure you pleased by a small payment--at that time seven

hundred dollars--to an old negro preacher who controlled the coloured

majority. Under the pretence of fitting up committee-rooms, the private

lodging-rooms at the boarding-houses of the negro members, in many

instances, were extravagantly furnished with Wilton and Brussels

carpets, mirrors, and sofas. A thousand dollars were expended for two

hundred elegant imported china spittoons. There were only one hundred

and twenty-three members in the House of Representatives, but the

residue were, perhaps, transferred to the private chambers of the

legislators.

Now, how did the Southern whites deal with this state of things? Well, I

am sorry to say they manifested their discontent very much in the way

in which the Irish have for the last hundred years been manifesting

theirs. If, as the English opponents of Home Rule seem to think,

readiness to commit outrages, and refusal to sympathize with the victims

of outrages, indicate political incapacity, the whites of the South

showed, in the period between 1866 and 1876, that they were utterly

unfit to be entrusted with the work of self-government. They could not

rise openly in revolt because the United States troops were everywhere

at the service of the carpet-baggers, for the suppression of armed

resistance. They did not send petitions to Congress, or write letters to

the Northern newspapers, or hold indignation meetings. They simply

formed a huge secret society on the model of the "Molly Maguires" or

"Moonlighters," whose special function was to intimidate, flog,

mutilate, or murder political opponents in the night time. This society

was called the "Ku-Klux Klan." Let me give some account of its

operation, and I shall make it as brief as possible. It had become so

powerful in 1871 that President Grant in that year, in his message to

Congress, declared that "a condition of things existed in some of the

States of the Union rendering life and property insecure, and the

carrying of the mails and the collecting of the revenue dangerous." A

Joint Select Committee of Congress was accordingly appointed, early in

1872, to "inquire into the condition of affairs in the late

insurrectionary States, so far as regards the execution of the laws and

the safety of the lives and property of the citizens of the United

States." Its report now lies before me, and it reads uncommonly like the

speech of an Irish Secretary in the House of Commons bringing in a

"Suppression of Crime Bill." The Committee say--

"There is a remarkable concurrence of testimony to the effect that, in

those of the late rebellious States into whose condition we have

examined, the courts and juries administer justice between man and man

in all ordinary cases, civil and criminal; and while there is this

concurrence on this point, the evidence is equally decisive that redress

cannot be obtained against those who commit crimes in disguise and at

night. The reasons assigned are that identification is difficult, almost

impossible; that, when this is attempted, the combinations and oaths of

the order come in and release the culprit by perjury, either upon the

witness-stand or in the jury-box; and that the terror inspired by their

acts, as well as the public sentiment in their favour in many

localities, paralyzes the arm of civil power.

* * * * *

"The murders and outrages which have been perpetrated in many counties

of Middle and West Tennessee, during the past few months, have been so

numerous, and of such an aggravated character, as almost baffles

investigation. In these counties a reign of terror exists which is so

absolute in its nature that the best of citizens are unable or unwilling

to give free expression to their opinions. The terror inspired by the

secret organization known as the Ku-Klux Klan is so great, that the

officers of the law are powerless to execute its provisions, to

discharge their duties, or to bring the guilty perpetrators of these

outrages to the punishment they deserve. Their stealthy movements are

generally made under cover of night, and under masks and disguises,

which render their identification difficult, if not impossible. To add

to the secrecy which envelops their operations, is the fact that no

information of their murderous acts can be obtained without the greatest

difficulty and danger in the localities where they are committed. No one

dares to inform upon them, or take any measures to bring them to

punishment, because no one can tell but that he may be the next victim

of their hostility or animosity. The members of this organization, with

their friends, aiders, and abettors, take especial pains to conceal all

their operations.

* * * * *

"Your committee believe that during the past six months, the murders--to

say nothing of other outrages--would average one a day, or one for every

twenty-four hours; that in the great majority of these cases they have

been perpetrated by the Ku-Klux above referred to, and few, if any, have

been brought to punishment. A number of the counties of this State

(Tennessee) are entirely at the mercy of this organization, and roving

bands of nightly marauders bid defiance to the civil authorities, and

threaten to drive out every man, white or black, who does not submit to

their arbitrary dictation. To add to the general lawlessness of these

communities, bad men of every description take advantage of the

circumstances surrounding them, and perpetrate acts of violence, from

personal or pecuniary motives, under the plea of political necessity."

Here is some of the evidence on which the report was based.

A complaint of outrages committed in Georgia was referred by the general

of the army, in June, 1869, to the general of the Department of the

South for thorough investigation and report. General Terry, in his

report, made August 14, 1869, says[2]--

"In many parts of the State there is practically no government. The

worst of crimes are committed, and no attempt is made to punish those

who commit them. Murders have been and are frequent; the abuse, in

various ways, of the blacks is too common to excite notice. There can be

no doubt of the existence of numerous insurrectionary organizations

known as 'Ku-Klux Klans,' who, shielded by their disguise, by the

secrecy of their movements, and by the terror which they inspire,

perpetrate crime with impunity. There is great reason to believe that in

some cases local magistrates are in sympathy with the members of these

organizations. In many places they are overawed by them and dare not

attempt to punish them. To punish such offenders by civil proceedings

would be a difficult task, even were magistrates in all cases disposed

and had they the courage to do their duty, for the same influences which

govern them equally affect juries and witnesses."

Lieutenant-Colonel Lewis Merrill, who assumed command (in Louisiana) on

the 26th of March, and commenced investigation into the state of

affairs, says (p. 1465)--

"From the best information I can get, I estimate the number of cases of

whipping, beating, and personal violence of various grades, in this

county, since the first of last November, at between three and four

hundred, excluding numerous minor cases of threats, intimidation, abuse,

and small personal violence, as knocking down with a pistol or gun, etc.

The more serious outrages, exclusive of murders and whippings, noted

hereafter, have been the following:--"

He then proceeds with the details of sixty-eight cases, giving the names

of the parties injured, white and black, and including the tearing up of

the railway, on the night before a raid was made by the Ku-Klux on the

county treasury building. The rails were taken up, to prevent the

arrival of the United States troops, who, it was known, were to come on

Sunday morning. The raid was made on that Sunday night while the troops

were lying at Chester, twenty-two miles distant, unable to reach

Yorkville, because of the rails being torn up.

Another witness said: "To give the details of the whipping of men to

compel them to change their mode of voting, the tearing of them away

from their families at night, accompanied with insults and outrage, and

followed by their murder, would be but repeating what has been described

in other States, showing that it is the same organization in all,

working by the same means for the same end. Five murders are shown to

have been committed in Monroe County, fifteen in Noxubee, one in

Lowndes, by the testimony taken in the city of Washington; but the

extent to which school-houses were burnt, teachers whipped, and outrages

committed in this State, cannot be fully given until the testimony taken

by the sub-committee shall have been printed and made ready to report."

There are about eighty, closely printed, large octavo pages of this kind

of testimony given by sufferers from the outrages.

Something was done to suppress the Ku-Klux by a Federal Act passed in

1871, which made offences of this kind punishable in the Federal Courts.

Considerable numbers of them were arrested, tried, and convicted, and

sent to undergo their punishment in the Northern jails. But there was no

complete pacification of the South until the carpet-bag governments were

refused the support of the Federal troops by President Hayes, on his

accession to power in 1876. Then the carpet-bag _régime_ disappeared

like a house of cards. The chief carpet-baggers fled, and the government

passed at once into the hands of the native whites. I do not propose to

defend or explain the way in which they have since then kept it in their

hands, by suppressing or controlling the negro vote. This is not

necessary to my purpose.

What I seek to show is that the Irish are not peculiar in their manner

of expressing their discontent with a government directed or controlled

by the public opinion of another indifferent or semi-hostile community

which it is impossible to resist in open warfare; that Anglo-Saxons

resort to somewhat the same methods under similar circumstances, and

that lawlessness and cruelty, considered as expressions of political

animosity, do not necessarily argue any incapacity for the conduct of an

orderly and efficient government, although I admit freely that they do

argue a low state of civilization.

I will add one more illustration which, although more remote than those

which I have taken from the Southern States during the reconstruction

period, is not too remote for my purpose, and is in some respects

stronger than any of them. I do not know a more orderly community in the

world, or one which, down to the outbreak of the Civil War, when

manufactures began to multiply, and the Irish immigration began to pour

in, had a higher average of intelligence than the State of Connecticut.

Down to 1818 all voters in that State had to be members of the

Congregational Church. It had no large cities, and this, with the aid of

its seat of learning, Yale College, preserved in it, I think, in greater

purity than even Massachusetts, the old Puritan simplicity of manners,

the Puritan spirit of order and thrift, and the business-like view of

government which grew out of the practice of town government. A less

sentimental community, I do not think, exists anywhere, or one in which

the expression of strong feeling on any subject but religion is less

cultivated or viewed with less favour. In the matter of managing their

own political affairs in peace or war, I do not expect the Irish to

equal the Connecticut people for a hundred years to come, no matter how

much practice they may have in the interval, and I think that fifty

years ago it was only picked bodies of Englishmen who could do so. Yet,

in 1833, in the town of Canterbury, one of the most orderly and

intelligent in the State, an estimable and much-esteemed lady, Miss

Prudence Crandall, was carrying on a girls' school, when something

happened to touch her conscience about the condition of the free negroes

of the North. She resolved, in a moment of enthusiasm, to undertake the

education of negro girls only. What follows forms one of the most famous

episodes in the anti-slavery struggle in America, and is possibly

familiar to many of the older readers of this article. I shall extract

the account of it as given briefly in the lately published life of

William Lloyd Garrison, by his sons. Some of the details are much worse

than is here described.

"The story of this remarkable case cannot be pursued here except in

brief.... It will be enough to say that the struggle between the modest

and heroic young Quaker woman and the town lasted for nearly two years;

that the school was opened in April; that attempts were immediately made

under the law to frighten the pupils away and to fine Miss Crandall for

harbouring them; that in May an Act prohibiting private schools for

non-resident coloured persons, and providing for the expulsion of the

latter, was procured from the legislature, amid the greatest rejoicing

in Canterbury (even to the ringing of church bells); that, under this

Act, Miss Crandall was in June arrested and temporarily imprisoned in

the county jail, twice tried (August and October) and convicted; that

her case was carried up to the Supreme Court of Errors, and her

persecutors defeated on a technicality (July, 1834), and that pending

this litigation the most vindictive and inhuman measures were taken to

isolate the school from the countenance and even the physical support of

the townspeople. The shops and the meeting-house were closed against

teacher and pupils, carriage in the public conveyances was denied them,

physicians would not wait upon them, Miss Crandall's own family and

friends were forbidden, under penalty of heavy fines, to visit her, the

well was filled with manure and water from other sources refused, the

house itself was smeared with filth, assailed with rotten eggs and

stones, and finally set on fire" (vol. i. p. 321).

Miss Crandall is still living in the West, in extreme old age, and the

Connecticut legislature voted her a small pension two years ago, as a

slight expiation of the ignominy and injustice from which she had

suffered at the hands of a past generation.

The _Spectator_ frequently refers to the ferocious hatred displayed

toward the widow of Curtin, the man who was cruelly murdered by

moonlighters somewhere in Kerry, as an evidence of barbarism which

almost, if not quite, justifies the denial of self-government to a

people capable of producing such monsters in one spot and on one

occasion. Let me match this from Mississippi with a case which I

produce, not because it was singular, but because it was notorious at

the North, where it occurred, in 1877. One Chisholm, a native of the

State, and a man of good standing and character, became a Republican

after the war, and was somewhat active in organizing the negro voters in

his district. He was repeatedly warned by some of his neighbours to

desist and abandon politics, but continued resolutely on his course. A

mob, composed of many of the leading men in the town, then attacked him

in his house. He made his escape, with his wife and young daughter and

son, a lad of fourteen, to the jail. His assailants broke the jail open,

and killed him and his son, and desperately wounded the daughter. The

poor lad received such a volley of bullets, that his blood went in one

rush to the floor, and traced the outlines of his trunk on the ceiling

of the room below, where it remained months afterwards, an eye-witness

told me, as an illustration of the callousness of the jailer. The

leading murderers were tried. They had no defence. The facts were not

disputed. The judge and the bar did their duty, but the jury acquitted

the prisoners without leaving their seats. Mrs. Chisholm, the widow,

found neither sympathy nor friends at the scene of the tragedy. She had

to leave the State, and found refuge in Washington, where she now holds

a clerkship in the Treasury department.

Let me cite as another illustration the violent ways in which popular

discontent may find expression in communities whose political capacity

and general respect for the law and its officers, as well as for the

sanctity of contracts, have never been questioned. Large tracts of land

were formerly held along the Hudson river in the State of New York, by a

few families, of which the Van Rensselaers and the Livingstons were the

chief, either under grants from the Dutch at the first settlement of the

colony, or from the English Crown after the conquest. That known as the

"Manor of Rensselaerwick," held by the Van Rensselaers, comprised a

tract of country extending twenty-four miles north and south, and

forty-eight miles east and west, lying on each side of the Hudson river.

It was held by the tenants for perpetual leases. The rents were, on the

Van Rensselaer estate, fourteen bushels of wheat for each hundred acres,

and four fat hens, and one day's service with a carriage and horses, to

each farm of one hundred and sixty acres. Besides this, there was a fine

on alienation amounting to about half a year's rent. The Livingston

estates were let in much the same way.

In 1839, Stephen Van Rensselaer, the proprietor, or "Patroon" as he was

called, died, with $400,000 due to him as arrears from the tenants, for

which, being a man of easy temper, he had forborne to press them. But he

left the amount in trust by his will for the payment of his debts, and

his heirs proceeded to collect it, and persisted in the attempt during

the ensuing seven years. What then happened I shall describe in the

words of Mr. John Bigelow. Mr. Tilden was a member of the State

Legislature in 1846, and was appointed Chairman of a Committee to

investigate the rent troubles, and make the report which furnished the

basis for the legislation by which they were subsequently settled. Mr.

Bigelow, who has edited Mr. Tilden's _Public Writings and Speeches_,

prefaces the report with the following explanatory note:--

"Attempts were made to enforce the collection of these rents. The

tenants resisted. They established armed patrols, and, by the adoption

of various disguises, were enabled successfully to defy the civil

authorities. Eventually it became necessary to call out the military,

but the result was only partially satisfactory. These demonstrations of

authority provoked the formation of 'anti-rent clubs' throughout the

manorial district, with a view of acquiring a controlling influence in

the legislature. Small bands, armed and disguised as Indians, were also

formed to hold themselves in readiness at all times to resist the

officers of the law whenever and wherever they attempted to serve legal

process upon the tenants. The principal roads throughout the infected

district were guarded by the bands so carefully, and the animosity

between the tenants and the civil authorities was so intense, that at

last it became dangerous for any one not an anti-renter to be found in

these neighbourhoods. It was equally dangerous for the landlords to make

any appeal to the law or for the collection of rents or for protection

of their persons. When Governor Wright entered upon his duties in Albany

in 1845, he found that the anti-rent party had a formidable

representation in the legislature, and that the questions involved were

assuming an almost national importance."

The sheriff made gallant attempts to enforce the law, but his deputies

were killed, and a legal investigation in which two hundred persons were

examined, failed to reveal the perpetrators of the crime. The militia

were called out, but they were no more successful than the sheriff. In

the case of one murder committed in Delaware County in 1845, however,

two persons were convicted, but their sentence was commuted to

imprisonment for life. Various others concerned in the disturbances were

convicted of minor offences, but when Governor Young succeeded Governor

Seward after an election in which the anti-renters showed considerable

voting strength, he pardoned them all on the ground that their crimes

were political. The dispute was finally settled by a compromise--that

is, the Van Rensselaers and the Livingstons both sold their estates,

giving quit-claim deeds to the tenants for what they chose to pay, and

the granting of agricultural leases for a longer term than twelve years

was forbidden by the State Constitution of 1846.

This anti-rent agitation is described by Professor Johnston of

Princeton, in the _Cyclopædia of Political Science_, as "a reign of

terror which for ten years practically suspended the operations of law

and the payment of rent throughout the district." Suppose all the land

of the State had been held under similar tenures; that the controversy

had lasted one hundred years; that the rents had been high; and that the

Van Rensselaers and the Livingstons had had the aid of the Federal army

in enforcing distraints and evictions, and in enabling them to set local

opinion at defiance, what do you suppose the state of morals and manners

would have been in New York by this time? What would have been the

feelings of the people towards the Federal authority had the matter been

finally adjusted with the strong hand, in accordance, not with the views

of the people of the State, but of the landholders of South Carolina or

of the district of Columbia? I am afraid they would have been terribly

Irish.

I know very well the risk I run, in citing all these precedents and

parallels, of seeming to justify, or at all events to palliate, Irish

lawlessness. But I am not doing anything of the kind. I am trying to

illustrate a somewhat trite remark which I recently made: "that

government is a very practical business, and that those succeed best in

it who bring least sentiment or enthusiasm to the conduct of their

affairs." The government of Ireland, like the government of all other

countries, is a piece of business--a very difficult piece of business, I

admit--and therefore horror over Irish doings, and the natural and human

desire to "get even with" murderers and moonlighters, by denying the

community which produces them something it would like much to possess,

should have no influence with those who are charged with Irish

government. It is only in nurseries and kindergartens that we can give

offenders their exact due and withhold their toffee until they have

furnished satisfactory proofs of repentance. Rulers of men have to

occupy themselves mainly with the question of drying up the sources of

crime, and often, in order to accomplish this, to let much crime and

disorder go unwhipped of justice.

With the state of mind which cannot bear to see any concessions made to

the Irish Nationalists because they are such wicked men, in which so

many excellent Englishmen, whom we used to think genuine political

philosophers, are now living, we are very familiar in the United States.

It is a state of mind which prevailed in the Republican party with

regard to the South, down to the election of 1884, and found constant

expression on the stump and in the newspapers in what is described, in

political slang, as "waving the bloody shirt." It showed itself after

the war in unwillingness to release the South from military rule; then

in unwillingness to remove the disfranchisement of the whites or to

withdraw from the carpet-bag State governments the military support

without which they could not have existed for a day; and, last of all,

in dread of the advent of a Democratic Federal Administration in which

Southerners or "ex-rebels" would be likely to hold office. At first the

whole Republican party was more or less permeated by these ideas; but

the number of those who held them gradually diminished, until in 1884 it

was at last possible to elect a Democratic President. Nevertheless a

great multitude witnessed the entrance into the White House of a

President who is indebted for his election mainly to the States formerly

in rebellion, with genuine alarm. They feared from it something

dreadful, in the shape either of a violation of the rights of the

freedmen, or of an assault on the credit and stability of the Federal

Government. Nothing but actual experiment would have disabused them.

I am very familiar with the controversy with them, for I have taken some

part in it ever since the passage of the reconstruction Acts, and I know

very well how they felt, and am sometimes greatly impressed by the

similarity between their arguments and those of the opponents of Irish

Home Rule. One of their fixed beliefs for many years, though it is now

extinct, was that Southerners were so bent on rebelling again, and were

generally so prone to rebellion, that the awful consequences of their

last attempt in the loss of life and property, had made absolutely no

impression on them. The Southerner was, in fact, in their eyes, what Mr.

Gladstone says the Irishman is in the eyes of some Englishmen: "A _lusus

naturæ_; that justice, common sense, moderation, national prosperity had

no meaning for him; that all he could appreciate was strife and

perpetual dissension. It was for many years useless to point out to them

the severity of the lesson taught by the Civil War as to the physical

superiority of the North, or the necessity of peace and quiet to enable

the new generation of Southerners to restore their fortunes, or even

gain a livelihood. Nor was it easy to impress them with the

inconsistency of arguing that it was slavery which made Southerners what

they were before they went to war, and maintaining at the same time that

the disappearance of slavery would produce no change in their manners,

ideas, or opinions. All this they answered by pointing to speeches

delivered by some fiery adorer of "the lost cause," to the Ku-Klux

outrages, to political murders, like that of Chisholm, to the building

of monuments to the Confederate dead, or to some newspaper expression of

reverence for Confederate nationality. In fact, for fully ten years

after the close of the war the collection of Southern "outrages" and

their display before Northern audiences, was the chief work of

Republican politicians. In 1876, during the Hayes-Tilden canvass, the

opening speech which furnished what is called "the key-note of the

campaign" was made by Mr. Wheeler, the Republican candidate for the

Vice-Presidency, and his advice to the Vermonters, to whom it was

delivered, was "to vote as they shot," that is, to go to the polls with

the same feelings and aims as those with which they enlisted in the war.

I need hardly tell English readers how all this has ended. The

withdrawal of the Federal troops from the South by President Hayes, and

the consequent complete restoration of the State governments to the

discontented whites, have fully justified the expectations of those who

maintained that it is no less true in politics than in physics, that if

you remove what you see to be the cause, the effect will surely

disappear. It is true, at least in the Western world, that if you give

communities in a reasonable degree the management of their own affairs,

the love of material comfort and prosperity which is now so strong among

all civilized, and even partially civilized men, is sure in the long run

to do the work of creating and maintaining order; or, as Mr. Gladstone

has expressed it, in setting up a government, "the best and surest

foundation we can find to build on is the foundation afforded by the

affections, the convictions, and the will of men."

Handbook of Home Rule: Being Articles on the Irish Question · 第 8 / 49 题