America: A history

by Robert Mackenzie

The industrial greatness of America is still, in large measure, agricultural. Nearly one-half of her people live by the cultivation of the soil. Upwards of three-fourths of the commodities which she sells to foreigners are agricultural products. The total value of the crops which she gathered in 1878 was not less than £400,000,000. The strangers who help to build up her power are drawn to her shores by the hope of obtaining easy possession of fertile land. Her progress in the manufacturing arts has been very rapid, but it cannot rival the giant growth of her agriculture.

The agricultural system of America is eminently favourable to cheap production. Unoccupied lands are the property of the nation, and are made over to cultivators on easy terms, and in many cases gratuitously. A rent-paying farmer is practically unknown; the farmer owns the land which he tills. His farm has cost him little, and as the invariable improvement in value cancels even that, it may be said that it has cost him nothing. The average farm of the Western States is one hundred and sixty acres. It is cultivated almost without outlay of money. The farmer and his family perform the work of the farm, with the help of a neighbour at the great eras of sowing and reaping. This help is requited in kind, and therefore costs nothing in money. The rich, deep, virgin soil asks for no manure during many years. The sole burden upon the farm is the maintenance of the farmer and his family, and of the four oxen or mules which share his toils. His local taxation is trivial. His national taxation is less than one-half of that which the English farmer bears.[3] The evil of distance from the great markets of the world is neutralized by the low charge for which his grain is carried on railway or canal.[4] His husbandry is careless, insomuch that two acres of land in the valley of the Mississippi yield no more than one acre yields in England.[5] But if his agriculture is rude it is constantly improving; and, meanwhile, it is so inexpensive that he can send its products to England, four thousand miles away, and undersell the farmer there. A vast revolution, whose results we as yet imperfectly appreciate, is in progress around us. The antiquated, semi-feudal land-system of England totters to its fall, unable to sustain itself in presence of the more free and natural system of the West.

Immigration languished during the earlier years of the war. The distracted condition of the country, and the fears in regard to its future so widely entertained in Europe, formed sufficient reason why men who were in search of a home should avoid America. But when success crowned the efforts of the North, her old attractiveness to the emigrating class resumed its power. It came then to be pressed upon the public mind that the progress of the West was frustrated by want of adequate communication. There was no railway beyond the Missouri river. From that point westward to the Pacific communication depended upon a rude system of stage-coaches, or the waggon of an adventurous pioneer. It was a journey of nearly two thousand miles, across an unpeopled wilderness. The hardship was extreme, and the dangers not inconsiderable; for the way was beset by hostile Indians, and the traveller must be in constant readiness to fight. This vast region, composed mainly of rich prairie land, was practically closed against progress. The resources of the country, as it seemed, could not be developed excepting near the margins of the continent, or by the borders of her great navigable rivers.

It was now determined to construct a railway which should connect the Atlantic with the Pacific, and open for the use of man the vast intervening expanse of fertile soil. Stimulated by liberal grants of national land, two companies began to build—one eastward from San Francisco, the other westward from the Missouri. As the extent of land given was in strict proportion to the length of line laid down, each of the companies pushed its operations to the utmost. The work was done in haste, and, as many then thought, slightly; but experience has proved its sufficiency. 1869 A.D. In due time the lines met; the last rail was laid down, not without emotion, such as befitted the completion of a work so great. By the help of electricity the blows of the hammer which drove home the last spike were made audible in the chief cities of the east. The union of east and west was now complete, and many millions of acres of rich land, hitherto inaccessible, were added to the heritage of man. The savage occupants of these lands were remorselessly pushed aside. The Indians had been dangerously hostile to the workmen who constructed the railway, and they showed some disposition to offer unpleasant interruption to the trains which ran upon it. They were now gathered up and placed in certain “reservations,” which it was well understood would be reserved for Indians only till white men had need of them. When the railroad was newly opened, travellers could occasionally look out from the windows upon a vast plain dark with innumerable multitudes of buffaloes plodding sullenly on their customary migrations. Herds of antelopes were seen fleeing before this new invader of their quiet lives. The prairie-dog, sitting upon his mound of earth, watched with curious eye the unwonted disturbance. All wild creatures were now wantonly slain, or driven far away. A steady tide of emigration flowed to the west. In the neighbourhood of the railway, the little wooden farm-house became frequent; beside stopping-places, villages arose, and swelled out into little towns; the towns of the olden time increased rapidly and prospered. The settlers planted trees of quick growth, and gradually, as the line of settlement stretched westward, the monotony of those dreary plains was brightened with groves, and dwellings, and cultivated fields.

Iowa, Indiana, Illinois ceased to be regarded as belonging to the west, and took rank as old and fully settled central States. Beyond the Missouri a new career opened for Kansas and Nebraska. Down to the beginning of the war these States had been claimed and fought for by the slave-power. Day by day now the railway brought long trains laden with immigrants—Russian Mennonites fleeing from persecution in Church and despotism in State; Germans escaping from military conscription; Englishmen and Irishmen leaving lands where the ownership of the soil was impossible excepting to a few.

Texas—once the refuge of men seeking exemption from the restraints which criminal law imposes—even Texas prospered, and under the genial influence of prosperity became respectable. Her population has risen in eight years from eight hundred thousand to two million. Much of her vast area[6] still lies untilled; but much of it has been reclaimed for the use of man. Her railways still traverse dreary forests, and great, unpeopled plains; but they also carry the traveller past many smiling villages, and many thriving cities where a prosperous commerce is maintained, where schools and churches abound. They reveal to him well-appointed farm-buildings; fields rich with bountiful crops; jungles where the peach, the orange, the banana, the pomegranate grow luxuriantly under the fostering heat of a semi-tropical sun; vast areas roamed over by myriads of slight, active-looking Texan cattle, the rearing of which yields wealth to the people. In many of the Texan cities two contrasted types of civilization—the old Mexican and the young American—live peaceably side by side. The palace-car meets the ox-team and the donkey with his panniers. The blanketed Indian, the Mexican in poncho and sombrero, the American in his faultless broadcloth, mingle harmoniously in the streets. Handsome mansions such as abound in the suburbs of eastern cities are near neighbours to antique Mexican dwellings, built of adobe, with loopholed battlements, and walls which show still the bullet-marks of forgotten strifes.

As the enormous mineral resources of the Rocky Mountains became more certainly ascertained, crowds were attracted in hope of sudden wealth, and the States which include the richer portions of the range became the home of a large population. In the remote north-west wheat crops of astonishing opulence rewarded the simple husbandry of the settler. The law that cultivated plants are most productive near the northern limit of their growth was illustrated in the happy experience of Dakotah and northern Minnesota, where the growing of wheat has now become one of the most lucrative of industrial occupations. The railways of those States are being extended with all possible rapidity, and each extension is followed by a fresh influx of settlers. Farmers of experience from the older and less productive States are drawn to the north-west by the unrivalled advantages which soil and climate present. During the year 1878 not less than five million acres of land were purchased in northern Minnesota for immediate cultivation.[7]

America has never been satisfied with mere agricultural greatness. The ambition to manufacture was coeval with her origin, and has grown with her growing strength. Twenty years after the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers there were bounties offered in Massachusetts for the encouragement of the manufacture of linen, woollen, and cotton cloths. When the Arkwright spinning machinery was introduced into England, the Americans were eager to possess themselves of an improvement so valuable. But the English law which prohibited the export of machinery was inflexibly administered, and the models prepared in secret for shipment to America were seized and confiscated. But no discouragement repressed the enterprising colonists. The beginnings of their great textile industries were sufficiently humble. The earliest motive-power applied to cotton machinery was the hand; next to it, and as an important advance, came the use of animal-power.[8] But the growth of demand was rapid, and before the close of last century the application of water-power was universal.

The increase of consumption was more rapid in America than the increase of production, and it had to be met by considerable imports of English goods. England, with abundant capital and low-priced labour, was able to produce more cheaply than America, and the struggling native manufacturer had to complain of a competition against which he was not able to support himself. He appealed to the Government for protection, and was influential enough to obtain that which he desired. For many years the subject of the tariff was keenly disputed. The Northern manufacturers were habitually seeking increased protection, which the Southern planters, having no kindred interests to protect, were often unwilling to grant. The rates imposed rose or fell with the strength of the contending parties and the political exigencies of the time. 1861 A.D. At length, immediately after the representatives of the South had quitted Congress, and the friends of protection were absolute, a highly protective tariff was enacted. Duties, the mass of which range from thirty to fifty per cent., with some very much larger, were imposed on nearly all foreign commodities landed at American ports. Under this law, with only slight modification, the foreign commerce of America has been conducted for the last eighteen years, and there has not yet manifested itself any change in American opinion which warrants the expectation of an early return to a more liberal system.