Books: Letters from an American Farmer
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Hector St. John de Crevecoeur >> Letters from an American Farmer
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The pleasure I receive from the warblings of the birds in the
spring, is superior to my poor description, as the continual
succession of their tuneful notes is for ever new to me. I generally
rise from bed about that indistinct interval, which, properly
speaking, is neither night or day; for this is the moment of the
most universal vocal choir. Who can listen unmoved to the sweet love
tales of our robins, told from tree to tree? or to the shrill cat
birds? The sublime accents of the thrush from on high always retard
my steps that I may listen to the delicious music. The variegated
appearances of the dew drops, as they hang to the different objects,
must present even to a clownish imagination, the most voluptuous
ideas. The astonishing art which all birds display in the
construction of their nests, ill provided as we may suppose them
with proper tools, their neatness, their convenience, always make me
ashamed of the slovenliness of our houses; their love to their dame,
their incessant careful attention, and the peculiar songs they
address to her while she tediously incubates their eggs, remind me
of my duty could I ever forget it. Their affection to their helpless
little ones, is a lively precept; and in short, the whole economy of
what we proudly call the brute creation, is admirable in every
circumstance; and vain man, though adorned with the additional gift
of reason, might learn from the perfection of instinct, how to
regulate the follies, and how to temper the errors which this second
gift often makes him commit. This is a subject, on which I have
often bestowed the most serious thoughts; I have often blushed
within myself, and been greatly astonished, when I have compared the
unerring path they all follow, all just, all proper, all wise, up to
the necessary degree of perfection, with the coarse, the imperfect
systems of men, not merely as governors and kings, but as masters,
as husbands, as fathers, as citizens. But this is a sanctuary in
which an ignorant farmer must not presume to enter.
If ever man was permitted to receive and enjoy some blessings that
might alleviate the many sorrows to which he is exposed, it is
certainly in the country, when he attentively considers those
ravishing scenes with which he is everywhere surrounded. This is the
only time of the year in which I am avaricious of every moment, I
therefore lose none that can add to this simple and inoffensive
happiness. I roam early throughout all my fields; not the least
operation do I perform, which is not accompanied with the most
pleasing observations; were I to extend them as far as I have
carried them, I should become tedious; you would think me guilty of
affectation, and I should perhaps represent many things as
pleasurable from which you might not perhaps receive the least
agreeable emotions. But, believe me, what I write is all true and
real.
Some time ago, as I sat smoking a contemplative pipe in my piazza, I
saw with amazement a remarkable instance of selfishness displayed in
a very small bird, which I had hitherto respected for its
inoffensiveness. Three nests were placed almost contiguous to each
other in my piazza: that of a swallow was affixed in the corner next
to the house, that of a phebe in the other, a wren possessed a
little box which I had made on purpose, and hung between. Be not
surprised at their tameness, all my family had long been taught to
respect them as well as myself. The wren had shown before signs of
dislike to the box which I had given it, but I knew not on what
account; at last it resolved, small as it was, to drive the swallow
from its own habitation, and to my very great surprise it succeeded.
Impudence often gets the better of modesty, and this exploit was no
sooner performed, than it removed every material to its own box with
the most admirable dexterity; the signs of triumph appeared very
visible, it fluttered its wings with uncommon velocity, an universal
joy was perceivable in all its movements. Where did this little bird
learn that spirit of injustice? It was not endowed with what we term
reason! Here then is a proof that both those gifts border very near
on one another; for we see the perfection of the one mixing with the
errors of the other! The peaceable swallow, like the passive Quaker,
meekly sat at a small distance and never offered the least
resistance; but no sooner was the plunder carried away, than the
injured bird went to work with unabated ardour, and in a few days
the depredations were repaired. To prevent however a repetition of
the same violence, I removed the wren's box to another part of the
house.
In the middle of my new parlour I have, you may remember, a curious
republic of industrious hornets; their nest hangs to the ceiling, by
the same twig on which it was so admirably built and contrived in
the woods. Its removal did not displease them, for they find in my
house plenty of food; and I have left a hole open in one of the
panes of the window, which answers all their purposes. By this kind
usage they are become quite harmless; they live on the flies, which
are very troublesome to us throughout the summer; they are
constantly busy in catching them, even on the eyelids of my
children. It is surprising how quickly they smear them with a sort
of glue, lest they might escape, and when thus prepared, they carry
them to their nests, as food for their young ones. These globular
nests are most ingeniously divided into many stories, all provided
with cells, and proper communications. The materials with which this
fabric is built, they procure from the cottony furze, with which our
oak rails are covered; this substance tempered with glue, produces a
sort of pasteboard, which is very strong, and resists all the
inclemencies of the weather. By their assistance, I am but little
troubled with flies. All my family are so accustomed to their strong
buzzing, that no one takes any notice of them; and though they are
fierce and vindictive, yet kindness and hospitality has made them
useful and harmless.
We have a great variety of wasps; most of them build their nests in
mud, which they fix against the shingles of our roofs, as nigh the
pitch as they can. These aggregates represent nothing, at first
view, but coarse and irregular lumps, but if you break them, you
will observe, that the inside of them contains a great number of
oblong cells, in which they deposit their eggs, and in which they
bury themselves in the fall of the year. Thus immured they securely
pass through the severity of that season, and on the return of the
sun are enabled to perforate their cells, and to open themselves a
passage from these recesses into the sunshine. The yellow wasps,
which build under ground, in our meadows, are much more to be
dreaded, for when the mower unwittingly passes his scythe over their
holes they immediately sally forth with a fury and velocity superior
even to the strength of man. They make the boldest fly, and the only
remedy is to lie down and cover our heads with hay, for it is only
at the head they aim their blows; nor is there any possibility of
finishing that part of the work until, by means of fire and
brimstone, they are all silenced. But though I have been obliged to
execute this dreadful sentence in my own defence, I have often
thought it a great pity, for the sake of a little hay, to lay waste
so ingenious a subterranean town, furnished with every conveniency,
and built with a most surprising mechanism.
I never should have done were I to recount the many objects which
involuntarily strike my imagination in the midst of my work, and
spontaneously afford me the most pleasing relief. These appear
insignificant trifles to a person who has travelled through Europe
and America, and is acquainted with books and with many sciences;
but such simple objects of contemplation suffice me, who have no
time to bestow on more extensive observations. Happily these require
no study, they are obvious, they gild the moments I dedicate to
them, and enliven the severe labours which I perform. At home my
happiness springs from very different objects; the gradual unfolding
of my children's reason, the study of their dawning tempers attract
all my paternal attention. I have to contrive little punishments for
their little faults, small encouragements for their good actions,
and a variety of other expedients dictated by various occasions. But
these are themes unworthy your perusal, and which ought not to be
carried beyond the walls of my house, being domestic mysteries
adapted only to the locality of the small sanctuary wherein my
family resides. Sometimes I delight in inventing and executing
machines, which simplify my wife's labour. I have been tolerably
successful that way; and these, Sir, are the narrow circles within
which I constantly revolve, and what can I wish for beyond them? I
bless God for all the good he has given me; I envy no man's
prosperity, and with no other portion of happiness than that I may
live to teach the same philosophy to my children; and give each of
them a farm, show them how to cultivate it, and be like their
father, good substantial independent American farmers--an
appellation which will be the most fortunate one a man of my class
can possess, so long as our civil government continues to shed
blessings on our husbandry. Adieu.
LETTER III
WHAT IS AN AMERICAN
I wish I could be acquainted with the feelings and thoughts which
must agitate the heart and present themselves to the mind of an
enlightened Englishman, when he first lands on this continent. He
must greatly rejoice that he lived at a time to see this fair
country discovered and settled; he must necessarily feel a share of
national pride, when he views the chain of settlements which
embellishes these extended shores. When he says to himself, this is
the work of my countrymen, who, when convulsed by factions,
afflicted by a variety of miseries and wants, restless and
impatient, took refuge here. They brought along with them their
national genius, to which they principally owe what liberty they
enjoy, and what substance they possess. Here he sees the industry of
his native country displayed in a new manner, and traces in their
works the embryos of all the arts, sciences, and ingenuity which
nourish in Europe. Here he beholds fair cities, substantial
villages, extensive fields, an immense country filled with decent
houses, good roads, orchards, meadows, and bridges, where an hundred
years ago all was wild, woody, and uncultivated! What a train of
pleasing ideas this fair spectacle must suggest; it is a prospect
which must inspire a good citizen with the most heartfelt pleasure.
The difficulty consists in the manner of viewing so extensive a
scene. He is arrived on a new continent; a modern society offers
itself to his contemplation, different from what he had hitherto
seen. It is not composed, as in Europe, of great lords who possess
everything, and of a herd of people who have nothing. Here are no
aristocratical families, no courts, no kings, no bishops, no
ecclesiastical dominion, no invisible power giving to a few a very
visible one; no great manufacturers employing thousands, no great
refinements of luxury. The rich and the poor are not so far removed
from each other as they are in Europe. Some few towns excepted, we
are all tillers of the earth, from Nova Scotia to West Florida. We
are a people of cultivators, scattered over an immense territory,
communicating with each other by means of good roads and navigable
rivers, united by the silken bands of mild government, all
respecting the laws, without dreading their power, because they are
equitable. We are all animated with the spirit of an industry which
is unfettered and unrestrained, because each person works for
himself. If he travels through our rural districts he views not the
hostile castle, and the haughty mansion, contrasted with the clay-
built hut and miserable cabin, where cattle and men help to keep
each other warm, and dwell in meanness, smoke, and indigence. A
pleasing uniformity of decent competence appears throughout our
habitations. The meanest of our log-houses is a dry and comfortable
habitation. Lawyer or merchant are the fairest titles our towns
afford; that of a farmer is the only appellation of the rural
inhabitants of our country. It must take some time ere he can
reconcile himself to our dictionary, which is but short in words of
dignity, and names of honour. There, on a Sunday, he sees a
congregation of respectable farmers and their wives, all clad in
neat homespun, well mounted, or riding in their own humble waggons.
There is not among them an esquire, saving the unlettered
magistrate. There he sees a parson as simple as his flock, a farmer
who does not riot on the labour of others. We have no princes, for
whom we toil, starve, and bleed: we are the most perfect society now
existing in the world. Here man is free as he ought to be; nor is
this pleasing equality so transitory as many others are. Many ages
will not see the shores of our great lakes replenished with inland
nations, nor the unknown bounds of North America entirely peopled.
Who can tell how far it extends? Who can tell the millions of men
whom it will feed and contain? for no European foot has as yet
travelled half the extent of this mighty continent!
The next wish of this traveller will be to know whence came all
these people? they are a mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French,
Dutch, Germans, and Swedes. From this promiscuous breed, that race
now called Americans have arisen. The eastern provinces must indeed
be excepted, as being the unmixed descendants of Englishmen. I have
heard many wish that they had been more intermixed also: for my
part, I am no wisher, and think it much better as it has happened.
They exhibit a most conspicuous figure in this great and variegated
picture; they too enter for a great share in the pleasing
perspective displayed in these thirteen provinces. I know it is
fashionable to reflect on them, but I respect them for what they
have done; for the accuracy and wisdom with which they have settled
their territory; for the decency of their manners; for their early
love of letters; their ancient college, the first in this
hemisphere; for their industry; which to me who am but a farmer, is
the criterion of everything. There never was a people, situated as
they are, who with so ungrateful a soil have done more in so short a
time. Do you think that the monarchical ingredients which are more
prevalent in other governments, have purged them from all foul
stains? Their histories assert the contrary.
In this great American asylum, the poor of Europe have by some means
met together, and in consequence of various causes; to what purpose
should they ask one another what countrymen they are? Alas, two
thirds of them had no country. Can a wretch who wanders about, who
works and starves, whose life is a continual scene of sore
affliction or pinching penury; can that man call England or any
other kingdom his country? A country that had no bread for him,
whose fields procured him no harvest, who met with nothing but the
frowns of the rich, the severity of the laws, with jails and
punishments; who owned not a single foot of the extensive surface of
this planet? No! urged by a variety of motives, here they came.
Every thing has tended to regenerate them; new laws, a new mode of
living, a new social system; here they are become men: in Europe
they were as so many useless plants, wanting vegetative mould, and
refreshing showers; they withered, and were mowed down by want,
hunger, and war; but now by the power of transplantation, like all
other plants they have taken root and flourished! Formerly they were
not numbered in any civil lists of their country, except in those of
the poor; here they rank as citizens. By what invisible power has
this surprising metamorphosis been performed? By that of the laws
and that of their industry. The laws, the indulgent laws, protect
them as they arrive, stamping on them the symbol of adoption; they
receive ample rewards for their labours; these accumulated rewards
procure them lands; those lands confer on them the title of freemen,
and to that title every benefit is affixed which men can possibly
require. This is the great operation daily performed by our laws.
From whence proceed these laws? From our government. Whence the
government? It is derived from the original genius and strong desire
of the people ratified and confirmed by the crown. This is the great
chain which links us all, this is the picture which every province
exhibits, Nova Scotia excepted.
There the crown has done all; either there were no people who had
genius, or it was not much attended to: the consequence is, that the
province is very thinly inhabited indeed; the power of the crown in
conjunction with the musketos has prevented men from settling there.
Yet some parts of it flourished once, and it contained a mild
harmless set of people. But for the fault of a few leaders, the
whole were banished. The greatest political error the crown ever
committed in America, was to cut off men from a country which wanted
nothing but men!
What attachment can a poor European emigrant have for a country
where he had nothing? The knowledge of the language, the love of a
few kindred as poor as himself, were the only cords that tied him:
his country is now that which gives him land, bread, protection, and
consequence: Ubi panis ibi patria, is the motto of all emigrants.
What then is the American, this new man? He is either an European,
or the descendant of an European, hence that strange mixture of
blood, which you will find in no other country. I could point out to
you a family whose grandfather was an Englishman, whose wife was
Dutch, whose son married a French woman, and whose present four sons
have now four wives of different nations. He is an American, who,
leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives
new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new
government he obeys, and the new rank he holds. He becomes an
American by being received in the broad lap of our great Alma Mater.
Here individuals of all nations are melted into a new race of men,
whose labours and posterity will one day cause great changes in the
world. Americans are the western pilgrims, who are carrying along
with them that great mass of arts, sciences, vigour, and industry
which began long since in the east; they will finish the great
circle. The Americans were once scattered all over Europe; here they
are incorporated into one of the finest systems of population which
has ever appeared, and which will hereafter become distinct by the
power of the different climates they inhabit. The American ought
therefore to love this country much better than that wherein either
he or his forefathers were born. Here the rewards of his industry
follow with equal steps the progress of his labour; his labour is
founded on the basis of nature, SELF-INTEREST: can it want a
stronger allurement? Wives and children, who before in vain demanded
of him a morsel of bread, now, fat and frolicsome, gladly help their
father to clear those fields whence exuberant crops are to arise to
feed and to clothe them all; without any part being claimed, either
by a despotic prince, a rich abbot, or a mighty lord. Here religion
demands but little of him; a small voluntary salary to the minister,
and gratitude to God; can he refuse these? The American is a new
man, who acts upon new principles; he must therefore entertain new
ideas, and form new opinions. From involuntary idleness, servile
dependence, penury, and useless labour, he has passed to toils of a
very different nature, rewarded by ample subsistence.--This is an
American.
British America is divided into many provinces, forming a large
association, scattered along a coast 1500 miles extent and about 200
wide. This society I would fain examine, at least such as it appears
in the middle provinces; if it does not afford that variety of
tinges and gradations which may be observed in Europe, we have
colours peculiar to ourselves. For instance, it is natural to
conceive that those who live near the sea, must be very different
from those who live in the woods; the intermediate space will afford
a separate and distinct class.
Men are like plants; the goodness and flavour of the fruit proceeds
from the peculiar soil and exposition in which they grow. We are
nothing but what we derive from the air we breathe, the climate we
inhabit, the government we obey, the system of religion we profess,
and the nature of our employment. Here you will find but few crimes;
these have acquired as yet no root among us. I wish I was able to
trace all my ideas; if my ignorance prevents me from describing them
properly, I hope I shall be able to delineate a few of the outlines,
which are all I propose.
Those who live near the sea, feed more on fish than on flesh, and
often encounter that boisterous element. This renders them more bold
and enterprising; this leads them to neglect the confined
occupations of the land. They see and converse with a variety of
people, their intercourse with mankind becomes extensive. The sea
inspires them with a love of traffic, a desire of transporting
produce from one place to another; and leads them to a variety of
resources which supply the place of labour. Those who inhabit the
middle settlements, by far the most numerous, must be very
different; the simple cultivation of the earth purifies them, but
the indulgences of the government, the soft remonstrances of
religion, the rank of independent freeholders, must necessarily
inspire them with sentiments, very little known in Europe among
people of the same class. What do I say? Europe has no such class of
men; the early knowledge they acquire, the early bargains they make,
give them a great degree of sagacity. As freemen they will be
litigious; pride and obstinacy are often the cause of law suits; the
nature of our laws and governments may be another. As citizens it is
easy to imagine, that they will carefully read the newspapers, enter
into every political disquisition, freely blame or censure governors
and others. As farmers they will be careful and anxious to get as
much as they can, because what they get is their own. As northern
men they will love the cheerful cup. As Christians, religion curbs
them not in their opinions; the general indulgence leaves every one
to think for themselves in spiritual matters; the laws inspect our
actions, our thoughts are left to God. Industry, good living,
selfishness, litigiousness, country politics, the pride of freemen,
religious indifference, are their characteristics. If you recede
still farther from the sea, you will come into more modern
settlements; they exhibit the same strong lineaments, in a ruder
appearance. Religion seems to have still less influence, and their
manners are less improved.
Now we arrive near the great woods, near the last inhabited
districts; there men seem to be placed still farther beyond the
reach of government, which in some measure leaves them to
themselves. How can it pervade every corner; as they were driven
there by misfortunes, necessity of beginnings, desire of acquiring
large tracts of land, idleness, frequent want of economy, ancient
debts; the re-union of such people does not afford a very pleasing
spectacle. When discord, want of unity and friendship; when either
drunkenness or idleness prevail in such remote districts;
contention, inactivity, and wretchedness must ensue. There are not
the same remedies to these evils as in a long established community.
The few magistrates they have, are in general little better than the
rest; they are often in a perfect state of war; that of man against
man, sometimes decided by blows, sometimes by means of the law; that
of man against every wild inhabitant of these venerable woods, of
which they are come to dispossess them. There men appear to be no
better than carnivorous animals of a superior rank, living on the
flesh of wild animals when they can catch them, and when they are
not able, they subsist on grain. He who would wish to see America in
its proper light, and have a true idea of its feeble beginnings and
barbarous rudiments, must visit our extended line of frontiers where
the last settlers dwell, and where he may see the first labours of
settlement, the mode of clearing the earth, in all their different
appearances; where men are wholly left dependent on their native
tempers, and on the spur of uncertain industry, which often fails
when not sanctified by the efficacy of a few moral rules. There,
remote from the power of example and check of shame, many families
exhibit the most hideous parts of our society. They are a kind of
forlorn hope, preceding by ten or twelve years the most respectable
army of veterans which come after them. In that space, prosperity
will polish some, vice and the law will drive off the rest, who
uniting again with others like themselves will recede still farther;
making room for more industrious people, who will finish their
improvements, convert the loghouse into a convenient habitation, and
rejoicing that the first heavy labours are finished, will change in
a few years that hitherto barbarous country into a fine fertile,
well regulated district. Such is our progress, such is the march of
the Europeans toward the interior parts of this continent. In all
societies there are off-casts; this impure part serves as our
precursors or pioneers; my father himself was one of that class, but
he came upon honest principles, and was therefore one of the few who
held fast; by good conduct and temperance, he transmitted to me his
fair inheritance, when not above one in fourteen of his
contemporaries had the same good fortune.
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