PREFACE.
I herewith submit to the British Public a work principally intended for the benefit of the American. Both people, however, are so intimately connected by the ties of friendship and consanguinity, and so many errors and faults of the Americans—as, indeed, most of their virtues—are so clearly and distinctly to be traced to their British origin, that the perusal of the following pages may, perhaps, be not altogether uninteresting to the readers of both countries.
As individuals may study their own character by carefully examining and observing that of their fellow-creatures,—for it is only in comparing ourselves with others that we become acquainted with ourselves,—so may a correct knowledge of one nation, and the tendencies of its institutions, enable another to form a proper estimate of itself, and to set a right value on its own laws and government.
Such is the object of the following publication; the Public must decide whether it has been attained.
THE EDITOR.
London, May 10th, 1839.
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
| PART I. | |
| CONTAINING THE ADVENTURES OF A DAY SPENT AMONG THE BLOODS IN NEW YORK. | |
| [Introduction.—Character of the Author.] | [Page 3] |
| [CHAPTER I.] | |
| Walk to the Battery.—The Breakfast.—Conversation ofyoung travelled Americans.—Their Notions of Politics,Negroes, and Women. | [16] |
| [CHAPTER II.] | |
| Return to the City.—Arrival of the London Packet.—Receptionof the Passengers.—American Speculations onan English Lord.—Introduction to a Fashionable Boarding-house.—ANew England Minerva.—A Belle.—A Ladyfrom Virginia.—Conduct of Fashionable Young Ladiestowards Gentlemen of an inferior Standing.—Confusionproduced by the Dinner-bell. | [49] |
| [CHAPTER III.] | |
| The Dinner.—Reflections on the Homage paid to AmericanWomen.—Observation of a Fashionable Young Ladyon American eating.—The Party after Dinner.—An Americandescanting on the Fashions.—Parallel between Englishand American Women.—Manner of rising in Society.—Extravaganceand Waste of the Middle Classes.—Toad-eatingof Fashionable Americans in Europe.—TheirContempt for the Liberal Institutions of their Country.—Mannerin which the Society of America may be used asa Means of correcting the Notions of European Exaltados.—TheBritish Constitution in high favour with the UpperClasses.—Southern and Northern Aristocracy contrasted.—Aristocracyof Literati.—American Women in Society andat Home.—Pushing in Society the Cause of Failures.—WesternAristocracy.—An Aristocratic Lady in Pittsburgh.—Aristocracyin a Printer’s Shop.—PhilosophicalWindings-up of the Party. | [84] |
| [CHAPTER IV.] | |
| Joining the Ladies.—Education of a Fashionable YoungLady in New York—her Accomplishments.—Tea withoutGentlemen.—Commercial Disasters not affecting theRoutine of Amusements in the City of New York.—TheTheatre.—Forest come back to America.—Opinions of theAmericans on Shakspeare and the Drama.—Their Estimationof Forest as an Actor.—Forest and Rice contrasted. | [155] |
| [CHAPTER V.] | |
| Description of an American Rout.—A Flirtation.—TheFloor kept by the same Set of Dancers.—FashionableCharacters.—An Unfortunate Girl at a Party.—Inquiryinstituted in her Behalf.—Anecdote of two Fashionableyoung Ladies at Nahant.—Aristocratic Feelings of theAmericans carried abroad.—Anecdotes.—Reflections onthe Manners of the Higher Classes.—Anecdotes illustrativeof Western Politeness and Hospitality.—Kentucky Hospitality.—Hypocrisyof the Higher Orders of Americans.—Aristocracyin Churches.—An American Aristocrat comparedto Shylock.—A Millionnaire.—Two Professional Men.—StephenGerard.—A Gentleman of Norman Extraction.—DifferentMethods resorted to for procuring Ancestors.—Americansand the English contrasted.—A Country Representative—Methodof making him desert his Principles.—PoliticalSynonyms.—Contempt for Democracy.—Expectationsof the American Aristocracy.—Objections toWaltzing.—Announcement of Supper. | [190] |
| [CHAPTER VI.] | |
| A German Dissertation on Eating.—Application of Eatingto Scientific, Moral, and Political Purposes.—Democratsin America not in the Habit of entertaining People.—Consequencesof this Mistake.—The Supper.—Dialoguebetween a Country Representative and a FashionableLady.—Mode of winning Country Members.—Hatred ofthe Higher Classes of everything belonging to Democracy.—Attachmentof the Old Families to England.—Hatred ofthe “Vulgar English.”—The French, and even the English,not sufficiently aristocratic for the Americans.—Generosityof the Americans toward England.—A FashionableYoung Lady.—An American Exquisite.—Middle-agedGentlemen and Ladies.—Americans not understandinghow to amuse themselves, because they do not know howto laugh.—Negroes the happiest People in the UnitedStates.—Breaking-up of the Party.—Gallantry of theGentlemen. | [228] |
| [CHAPTER VII.] | |
| Late Hours kept in New York.—The Oyster-shops ofNew York compared to those of Philadelphia.—ImportantSchism on that Subject.—The Café de l’Indépendance.—AFrench Character.—Description of a Fashionable Oyster-shop.—Asensible American just returned from Paris.—Hisaccount of American Aristocracy abroad.—Mr. L***and Mr. Thistle.—A shrewd Yankee Tailor in Paris.—HisAdvice to his Countrymen.—An American Senatorscorning to become the fee’d Advocate of the Mob, afterthe manner of O’Connell. | [277] |
| [CHAPTER VIII.] | |
| Return Home.—A Passage from the Edinburgh Review,apologetical of American Federalism.—Speculation on theSubject.—Little Reward of Democracy in the United States.—TheHigher Classes contending for the Purse.—Consequenceof this Policy.—Declaration of an American Reviewerwith regard to American Poets.—Their Reward inEurope.—Falling asleep.—The Nightmare. | [306] |
ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA.
PART I.
CONTAINING THE ADVENTURES OF A DAY SPENT AMONG THE BLOODS IN NEW YORK.
INTRODUCTION.
Character of the Author.
The following sketches of “American Aristocracy” were written in a desultory manner during a journey the Author took some time ago from Boston to Washington, after having sojourned a number of years in the country.
The Author, now residing in New York, not having sufficient courage to publish them, I undertook that task for him; not with a view to pecuniary profit, but in order to render a service to truth, which ought to be acceptable at all times, and cannot but benefit a young, aspiring, prosperous country like the United States.
Numerous works have already been published on “American Society;” but its peculiar tendency towards Aristocracy, its talents, resources, and prospects, have never been more than generally and superficially dwelt upon, even by the best writers. This is a great fault. The Americans have, as they repeatedly assure Europeans, “a great deal of Aristocracy,” and, in general, a very nice taste for artificial distinctions; a circumstance which, as yet, is but little known to the great bulk of the European public, who still imagine them to be a set of savages.
The Author of these pages seems to have made it his study to bring those hidden gems to light, in order to vindicate his adopted country from the reproach of equality and barbarism, indiscriminately heaped upon it by the Tories of all countries, and especially by the great Tories of England.
Before entering on the task assigned me, it is, however, necessary first to acquaint the reader with the personage of the Author, who was once a sporting character; but is now a sedate, moral, religious man, scarcely to be told from a real American. Although of noble extraction, being the seventh son of the Westphalian Baron Von K—pfsch—rtz, whose family dates back to the eighth century, he has, while in the United States, sunk the nobleman in the man of business; in consequence of which he now passes generally for “a sensible man.” Had he been born and bred in America, and inherited or acquired a large fortune, his being descended from a noble family might have added to his other accomplishments; but the pedigree of a poor German nobleman without a rent-roll could not possibly do him any good, and might have done him much harm in raising the jealousy of his employers.
For a time he devoted himself to politics, in which he was a great enthusiast, but soon discovered his error; and, finding winds and waves more steady than the favours of the public, became supercargo of an American East Indiaman. He stayed three years in Canton, and on his return married the daughter of the president of an insurance office—the young lady having fallen in love with him at a party,—notwithstanding the remonstrances of the family, who considered the match a poor one. He has since had two children by his wife, and a clerkship by his father in-law; all which, taken together, has done much to attach him to the country, and will, I doubt not, in due time make him “a patriot.”
I must yet observe that the following “sketches” were written during the Author’s political career, and shortly after; it being agreed between him and his father-in-law, at the time of his marriage, that he should never again use a pen except for the benefit of the office, or to write a letter to his beau-père, provided he be willing to frank it. This promise I understood him to have religiously kept, as indeed every other he made at that time; but, feeling all the while some lurking desire to see himself in print, he thought it no harm to touch up an old manuscript, which he was determined secretly to put into my hands, in order that I might select from it what I judged fit for publication. The way in which he accomplished his design, and the charge he gave me, are important items; which, as they are brief, I shall not withhold from the public.
It was in the month of August last year, that, early in the morning of a sultry day, while sauntering along the wide and dirty streets of New York, I was, just at the corner of Chamber Street and Broadway, struck by the singular appearance of a male figure, which I at once recognised as European, though the individual in question had apparently taken the most studied pains to disguise his origin. His stature was straight and erect; his neck, already thin and stiff, was, by the aid of a black cravat, reduced to a still narrower compass; and his hat was sunk down his neck so as to expose half his forehead. His frock-coat, despite the heat of the day, was buttoned up to the chin, and yet of such diminutive dimensions as scarcely to cover any one part of his body. His trowsers were of the same tight fit as his coat, and the heels of his boots added at least an inch and a half to his natural height. His steps were short and quick, deviating neither to the right nor left from a straight line; and his head, which was thrown back, seemed to act as a rudder in directing his motion. Thus far, his appearance differed in nothing from a genuine New-Yorker, except that his shoulders were very much broader, and his legs much more stout, than one generally meets with on the borders of the Atlantic.
I seldom saw an European imitate exactly the particular business-dress and gait of an American; and in this instance the copy appeared to me so burlesque, that I felt curious to see the full face of a man whose body bore such evident imprints of two worlds. I therefore stepped quickly forward a few paces, and, leaning against the window of a print-shop, endeavoured to take a front view of my hero. He seemed to guess my intention, and, desirous of avoiding observation, turned his head towards the opposite side; which, however, did not prevent me from recognising at once my friend the Author, with a large roll of paper in his hand.
“Ah!” exclaimed he, grasping my arm, “I am glad to meet you,—the very man I wanted to see. Whither are you now going?”
“To breakfast.”
“Are you invited?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then I shall accompany you. I have to speak to you on a very important subject.”
“I am going to the Turkish divan.”
“The very place I like,—it’s private, snug, genteel; one can be there without meeting a reporter.”
It was now seven o’clock. The sun had risen over an infinite canopy of dense vapours, through which his rays of burning light were dissolved into a dark lurid hue which hung like smoke on the red walls of the buildings. The thermometer stood 98° in the shade. After a short walk, which, owing to the excessive sultriness of the air, proved sufficiently fatiguing, we arrived at the coffee-house. The entrée was somewhat dérobée, for the evident purpose of concealing it from the eyes of the vulgar; and the establishment being on the second floor, and the staircase dark and narrow, none but one initiated into the secret could have found the way to it. We ascended the stairs, opened the folding-doors, and in another moment found ourselves in an elegant apartment, studded with marble tables and stuffed couches, in which a sort of chiaroscuro—the window-shutters being but half opened, and the windows concealed by a rich damask drapery,—gave full effect to the numerous oil-paintings that covered the walls. Some of these, we were told by the waiter, were of high value, being “genuine originals;” but my friend, who passed for a connoisseur in these matters, merely tossed up his head, and said he knew all about them.
“Have you seen the invoice?” demanded the waiter.
“It’s no matter,” replied my friend; “you had better give us some coffee.”
We stretched ourselves each on an ottoman (chairs being entirely banished from the establishment), and “the Author” at once came to the point.
“I wanted to hand you my sketch-book,” said he, after heaving a deep sigh, “containing the journal of a tour through the principal Atlantic cities, and a few memorandums of my stay in Washington.”
“Ah! have you finally resolved to publish it?”
“Not I. I am a married man, related to one of the most aristocratic families in town, with the prospect of inheriting a fortune. I must not quarrel with my bread and butter.”
“Oh! I understand you: you wish me to publish it for you; that’s more than I can promise to do without seeing the manuscript.”
“But you may omit what you do not like, or soften down what is likely to give offence.”
“That you know is useless. The Americans do not like to be spoken of in any way. They are so thin-skinned as not even to bear praise; they take it for irony.”
“I know it. Our first people are like the Venetian senators, who would not allow the government to be praised; because, if one man bestowed praise, another might be guilty of censure. There is no knowing where matters will end when once in the mouth of the people.”
“All this ought to put me the more on my guard: yet, out of friendship for you, I will make myself a martyr. If you had the courage to write the truth, I will have the boldness to publish it.”
“Bravo!” cried my friend, embracing me in a Continental manner, “I see you are a real German; and, if ever I inherit——”
“Pray don’t mention it. It will be as much as you can do to pay your wife’s mantua-maker. You cannot count your father-in-law’s money until after his death. There are bank liabilities, insurance liabilities, and Heaven knows what other mercantile and private liabilities! Just give me the manuscript, and trust the rest to my affection.”
“You are too kind—too generous!” cried he; “but I must, nevertheless, give you a few hints. I think you had better omit the account of my flirtations entirely. It is not in good taste. All such things are necessarily insipid; and, if Mrs. K—pfsch—rtz should by accident learn——”
“She would never forgive you.”
“It is not that I am most afraid of; but my father-in-law, and the public——. Besides, my flirtations, as is always the case in the United States, ended in a most sensible manner, and on that account are not likely to interest an European reader. The first lady sent me word by her servant not to trouble myself with writing her any more letters, as she was determined to send them back unopened. The second gave me a verbal warning in these terms:—‘I am sorry you should be in love with me, because papa and mamma think it all nonsense; I do not say this to hurt your feelings, but merely to prevent you from taking any unnecessary steps in the matter. I shall, nevertheless, be always happy to see you as a friend.’ And the third ended in the most legitimate manner,—in my marriage. I think my sketches of fashionable parties, and in general of the character and principles of our ‘first society,’ are much more likely to give satisfaction: only soften them down a little for the sake of Judge Lynch: it would break my heart to see you tarred and feathered. As regards my account of American statesmen and politicians, you must calculate your chances of a duel. A Southerner will fight three times as quick as a Northerner; but the Northerner will never forgive you. Be careful how you repeat what I have said about parsons; they have more power in the United States than in any other country. They have the power of breaking any man they please; for they possess the most complete control over the women. I have, in this respect, always been of Jean Paul Richter’s opinion, who despised ‘the pater-noster globule of piety,’ as much as ‘the empty bubbles of worldly prudence.’ But you know my religious sentiments, and are best able to judge whether I deserve the name of a Christian. If I have sometimes been severe upon Unitarianism and Dr. Channing, it is because I hate cant in any shape, and would oppose any man that would constitute himself moral pope of the community. The Bostonians, who, according to their own confession, are a ‘people full of notions,’ are always ready to deify a man that ‘captivates their fancy;’ and accordingly have within the narrow confines of their city a whole Olympus of gods and goddesses, of which the reverend Socinian is the Jupiter tonans. But you will best know how to manage these matters: only one thing,—forgive the vanity of an author!—you must promise me as a conditio sine quâ non.”
“And what is that?”
“Not to make such a thing of it as Fanny Kemble’s journal;—that is, not to strike out three-fourths of the book, and then publish the rest all dashes and stars.”
I gave him my word to leave as few stories untold as possible, and, in general, to stick to my text as far as was consistent with prudence; after which he quietly sneaked off to his office, leaving me to do the best with the manuscript. And now, gentle reader, it is for you to judge whether I have abused the confidence of my friend.