FOOTNOTES:
[95] This indeed is a most lamentable picture of the depravity of human nature, and might have applied better fifteen or twenty years ago than at present. But our author ought to have confined it to a particular frontier, and to a few individuals; for it is by no means the character of all our backwoodsmen, nor are such ferocious and more than beast-like battles customary on the borders of all our frontier settlements. Nor can we believe even the more profligate among the class here spoken of, would purposely meet (unless indeed in an actual state of warfare) to fight, to gouge, and to tear each others flesh to pieces in the manner described; but that fighting, gouging, &c. might be the consequence of such meetings and carousings, we have little doubt, especially where whiskey is the common drink of the country. There are always a few diabolically wicked in all societies of men, rude or civilized; but it would be unjust to libel a whole community because of the wickedness and profligacy of a few.
It is observable that European travellers frequently misrepresent us by giving for a general character, that which is particular; hence they mislead their readers into the most monstrous blunders as respects the true features of our national character, while they do us a greater piece of injustice than they might have intended. As an instance of this the following quotation from “Volney’s View of the United States,” will suffice: Speaking of the Philadelphia mode of eating and drinking, he observes:
“At breakfast they deluge the stomach with a pint of hot water, slightly impregnated with tea, or slightly tinctured, or rather coloured, with coffee; and they swallow, almost without mastication, hot bread, half baked, soaked in melted butter, with the grossest cheese, and salt or hung beef, pickled pork or fish, all which can with difficulty be dissolved.
“At dinner they devour boiled pastes, called, absurdly, puddings, garnished with the most luscious sauces. Their turnips and other vegetables are floated in lard or butter. Their pastry is nothing but a greasy paste, imperfectly baked. To digest these various substances, they take tea, immediately after dinner, so strong that it is bitter to the taste, as well as utterly destructive of the nervous system. Supper presently follows, with salt meat and shell fish in its train. Thus passes the whole day, in heaping one indigestive mass upon another. To brace the exhausted stomach, wine, rum, gin, malt spirits, or beer, are used with dreadful prodigality.”
I am a native American, have passed through most of the American states, and never drank, nor saw drunk, at either publick or private table, “tea immediately after dinner,” nor never heard of a practice of the kind in any of the states, hence I think I have reason to conclude Mr. Volney erroneous in giving this as the general custom of a people; and think it probable he drew his conclusions from the particular practice of a few families, in which he might have lodged; and which might have altered their usual mode of eating and drinking, in order to accommodate the supposed habits of this great traveller, he being a native of France, where it is well-known coffee is much used after dinner. How much more would the publick be benefitted by the remarks of travellers on the manners and customs of countries, would they divest themselves of their prejudices, passions, and partialities, and confine themselves to the relation of simple truths. Methinks a traveller who intends to publish his travels, ought to be a philosopher, in the true sense of the word.—Cramer.
[96] Rev. William Graham, who had been for twenty-one years president of the first academy west of the Blue Ridge, becoming imbued with a missionary spirit, bought six thousand acres of the Washington lands and attempted to found a Presbyterian colony thereon. He brought out several families in 1798, but returning the next year died at Richmond, whereupon his colonists grew discouraged and withdrew. The place, however, has retained to this day its name of Graham’s Station.—Ed.