The Revolutions of 1776 and 1861 Contrasted

It is hard to express how radically dif­ferent the thinking of many Southerners was during the Civil War from anything we would recognize in the United States today. We may point, however, to this 1863 article by George Fitzhugh, which was published in the Southern Literary Messenger, the nearest thing the Confederacy had to a canonical journal of Southern opinion. Fitzhugh com­pletely repudiates the Declaration of Independence and all the prin­ciples embodied in it, and lays down a doctrine of absolute tyranny. Down with bills of rights; down with religious toleration; down with the consent of the governed; down with human equality; it would have been better had those ideas never been formed. The same issue, by the way, included an article—long enough for a sub­stantial book—proving that the good free people of the South were racially different from Yankees. In the era after the Civil War, Southerners developed the com­forting myth that they had rebelled for the sake of things all Americans agree on—freedom, self-determination, and so on. It may have been so for some, but the secession was led by men who had much more radical opinions.


The Revolution of 1776 was, when subjected to the searching analysis of learned and compre­hensive philosophy, the com­monest thing in nature. The birth of a child, or the weaning of a calf, excites no wonder, and stirs up no fanatical ardor, because of their frequent occurrence; yet the birth of a nation, or the separation of a colony from its parent stem, are events quite as much in the order of nature as the birth of a child, the weaning of a calf, or the dropping of the ripened apple from its parent stem. The Revolution of 1776 had nothing dramatic, nothing novel, nothing grand about it. Every child and every chicken, that, getting old enough and strong enough to take care of itself, quits its parents and sets up for itself, is quite as singular and admirable a spectacle, as that of the thirteen adult States of America solemnly resolving to cut loose from the state of pupilage and dependence on their parent, England, and ever there­after to assert and enjoy the rights of inde­pen­dent manhood. It was an exceedingly vulgar, common-place affair; it had nothing poetic or dramatic about it. A birth, a christening, a circum­cision, or the induing of the “toga virilis”—in fact, anything that marked an epoch in life, was quite as admirable as this weaning of the American calf from its trans-Atlantic dam.

Colonies are sure to set up for themselves when strong enough to do so, and had been thus setting up for themselves since the world began, and excited no wonder by the procedure. So well aware were the Greeks of this fact, that they anticipated and obviated this weaning process, which whether it occur with Colonies, calves or chickens, occasions heart-burning, family quarrels, scratching and pecking and fighting—that they sent out their Colonies as full-fledged and independent nations. Declarations of Inde­pendence were unknown then. Nothing so pompous, so mal apropos and so silly is to be found in history, until our Revolution of ’76. A hundred guns are fired when a Prince is born in France, yet all the artillery in the world, fired simultaneously, could not make the birth or the weaning of a baby or a nation a grand or imposing event. Either occurrence is decidedly vulgar and common-place, and Columbian Orators, or fourth of July orations, and lengthy Columbiads, in endeavoring to celebrate and dramatise them, only serve to render them more ridiculous.

All the bombastic absurdities in our Declara­tion of Inde­pen­dence about the inalienable rights of man, had about as much to do with the occasion, as would a sermon or an oration on the teething of a child or the kittening of a cat.

Glendower.      …At my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets; and at my birth,
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shak’d like a coward.
Hotspur.      Why so it would have done
At the same season, if your mother’s cat had
But kitten’d.

[King Henry IV, act 3d, scene 1st.

It would have been well for us, if the seemingly pompous inanities of the Declaration of Independence, of the Virginia Bill of Rights and the Act of Religious Toleration had remained dead letters. But they had a strength, a vitality and a meaning in them, utterly uncom­pre­hended by their charla­tanic, half-learned, pedantic authors, which rendered them most potent engines of destruction. Our institu­tions, State and Federal, imported from England, where they had grown up naturally and imperceptibly, and adapted to our peculiar circumstances by like natural growth and accretion, might, and would, have lasted for very many ages, had not silly, thought­less, half-informed, specu­lative charlatans, like Jefferson, succeeded in basing them on such inflammable and explosive materials as those to be found in the instruments which we have mentioned. The doctrines which they contain are borrowed, almost literally, from Locke’s Essays on Government—Locke distin­guished himself in pure meta­physics—deceived and led astray the philosophic world, for two centuries, by a system of materialism and consequent infidelity, which he himself did not comprehend, or at least, the necessary deductions from which he did not foresee. A professing Christian himself, he is the father of all modern infidelity—infidelity in religion, in morals, in everything. Rousseau borrowed from him, and sowed his infidel and anarchical principles broadcast throughout Christendom. Locke’s meta­physics ignored all innate ideas, all instincts, all intuition and involuntary faiths, beliefs and opinions. Man, according to his doctrine, is a mere reasoning machine, and derives all his knowledge and all his judgments and opinions from impressions made upon his mind, through the medium of his senses, by external objects. It is not our business now to refute this theory nor to follow it out theoretically or historically, into its materialistic, infidel and anarchical conse­quences. We have only to do with him as a political pedagogue: as a presumptuous charlatan, who, as ignorant of the science and practice of government as any shoemaker or horse jockey, attempted to introduce his false and infidel metaphysics into the field of politics.

Aristotle had taught, and his teachings had been respected and heeded for two thousand years, that society or government, was natural to man; that he was born under government, born a member of society, and did not originate government and society; that men, like bees, and ants, and herds and flocks, were impelled into society by their natures, their wants, their instincts and intuitions; that, in fact, society and government, in their origin and grand outlines, were the works of God, and not of man. He taught further, that in all societies some were formed by nature to command and others to obey; that inequality, not equality, was the necessary condition of men, bees, ants and all other social and gregarious animals: for society can only exist as a series of subordinations. Hence, he (Aristotle) begins his treatise on government with a dissertation on the family, and on slaves as a natural and appropriate part of the family. Human inequality and the natural, God-made organ of society and of government are the distinguishing features of his political doctrines.

Human equality, and the origination and entire construction of society and government by man, are the distinguishing, and only distinguishing features of the would-be political philosophy of Locke. He teaches the doctrine of the social contract or compact, and distinctly explains it to mean, that men are not by nature social animals, but originally lived each adult separate, to himself, inde­pendent and self-governing. That society is an institution which in process of time grew out of positive agreement or compact, and that only those who entered into this agreement were bound by it. This is all absurd enough; but he is not content with this glaring fatuity. He adds, that not only originally did men become members of society by positive agreement, but that even now no one becomes a subject of government or a member of society except by express agreement.

His metaphysic drove him to these monstrous conclusions, for to admit that society was instinc­tive and not the result of reasoning from experience, was to admit the doctrine of innate ideas—the doctrine of Aristotle and the Peripatetics, which his philosophy was intended to refute.…

Locke’s doctrine of human equality, which was incorporated into the declaration of Independence, and put into active force in the Chicago Platform, is thus expressed in the beginning of his 8th chapter on Civil Government: “Men being, as has been said, by nature, all free, equal and independent, no one can be put out of his estate, and subjected to the political force of another without his own consent.” The only way by which any one divests himself of his natural liberty, and puts on the bonds of society, is by agreeing with other men to join and unite into a community for their comfortable, safe and peaceable living, one among another, in a secure enjoyment of their properties, and a greater security against any that are not “of it.”

This passage in Locke is almost literally copied into the first two sentences of the Declaration of Independence. First, “all men are created equal.” That is Locke’s doctrine. Secondly, “governments are instituted among men.” That is, man is not like other gregarious animals, born into society, born a member and subject of government; but society and government are human institutions and discoveries, not pre-ordained by God, like flocks, and hives and herds. This is an infidel doctrine of Locke’s and of the Declaration of Independence. Thirdly, “that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed.” Now, men and horses, and all creatures subject to government, submit to be governed, but do not consent to be governed. A consent government is no government, for it implies that all shall think alike, “con-sentio.” But to constitute government at all, the rulers must think for those who are ruled. Those who consent are not governed, for to be governed implies that one is required and compelled to do, by a superior power, that which, left to himself, he would not do. He alone is governed, whose will is subjected and controlled by the will of another. He submits, but does not consent.

These doctrines of Locke put into distinct and imposing form, in the Declaration of Independence, and exported from America to France, acted like a torpedo shot into a magazine. They blew up first the French monarchy, and soon thereafter all the monarchies of Western Europe, but established in their stead, not the absurdity of a “consent government,” but the great military despotism of Bonaparte.…

We now come to the Southern Revolution of 1S61, which we maintain was reactionary and conservative—a rolling back of the excesses of the Reformation—of Reformation run mad—a solemn protest against the doctrines of natural liberty, human equality and the social contract, as taught by Locke and the American sages of 1776, and an equally solemn protest against the doctrines of Adam Smith, Franklin, Say, Tom Paine, and the rest of the infidel political economists who maintain that the world is too much governed, “Pas trop gouverner,” and should not be governed at all, but “Let alone,” “Laissez nous faire.” This reaction commenced in 1840, as we have said, under the lead of Calhoun, Tyler, and R. M. T. Hunter—Kendall, and Blair, and Benton, and their base, radical and destructive clique, were then ousted from their places as leaders of the Southern Democracy, and the States Rights Whig party took their places and controlled the action of the South. In truth, the Democratic party of the South became Whig and conservative, but retained its name and its offices. The reason of this new departure was, that it was perceived that the doctrines of Jefferson and of the other illustrious Fathers of the Republic were being successfully employed to justify abolition and to upset the whole social system of the South—besides, excluding her from equal or any participation in the public lands, most of which she had acquired against the protests of the North, that was now greedily and rapaciously seeking to monopolize them.…

Outside pressure will combine with inside necessity (slavery) to make us conservative, and to perpetuate our Confederacy and our State institutions. We must cling together, in order to be always prepared to resist, not only to resist the rapacity and fanaticism of the North, but to make head, if necessary, against the abolition machinations of the rest of Christendom. Conservatives by blood, feeling, choice and necessity, we may well hope and expect that our Confederacy will be of long and glorious duration.

——The Literary Messenger, November & December 1863.

Celebration at Baldinsville in Honor of the Atlantic Cable

Artemus Ward (Charles Farrar Browne) was probably the greatest American humorist before Mark Twain. The character of Artemus Ward was a traveling showman who kept wax figures and a menagerie, among other curiosities, for the enlightenment of the paying public. His trademark poor spelling was necessary to convey the exact sound of the now-extinct rural American dialect; once your eyes have adapted to the spelling, you can hear Artemus Ward’s voice clearly across a century and a half. Here we have an account of the celebration at Ward’s native Baldinsville in honor of the telegraph cable that linked England with the United States, and for the first time allowed news to cross the Atlantic instantaneously. Of course the scenes are satirically exaggerated, but the humor would not have worked if this had not been at the bottom a very good description of the way small towns across America celebrated this momentous event. For added historical interest, we may note the hints of looming catastrophe: this was written only about two and a half years before the outbreak of the Civil War, and even in tiny Baldinsville the signs were easy to read.


Baldinsville, Injianny, Sep the onct, 18&58. — I was summund home from Cinsinnaty quite suddin by a lettur from the Supervizers of Baldinsville, sayin as how grate things was on the Tappis in that air town in refferunse to sellebratin the compleshun of the Sub-Mershine Tellergraph & axkin me to be Pressunt. Lockin up my Kangeroo and wax wurks in a sekure stile I took my departer for Baldinsville—“my own, my nativ lan,” which I gut intwo at early kandle litin on the follerin night & just as the sellerbrashun and illumernashun ware commensin.

Baldinsville was trooly in a blaze of glory. Near can I forgit the surblime speckticul which met my gase as I alited from the Staige with my umbreller and verlise. The Tarvern was lit up with taller kandles all over & a grate bon fire was burnin in frunt thareof. A Transpirancy was tied onto the sine post with the follerin wurds—“Giv us Liberty or Deth.” Old Tompkinsis grosery was illumernated with 5 tin lantuns and the follerin Transpirancy was in the winder—“The Sub-Mershine Tellergraph & the Baldinsville and Stonefield Plank Road—the 2 grate eventz of the 19th centerry—may intestines strife never mar their grandjure.” Simpkinsis shoe shop was all ablase with kandles and lantuns. A American Eagle was painted onto a flag in a winder—also these wurds, viz—“The Constitooshun must be Presarved.” The Skool house was lited up in grate stile and the winders was filld with mottoes amung which I notised the follerin—“Trooth smashed to erth shall rize agin—you can’t stop her.” “The Boy stood on the Burnin Deck whense awl but him had Fled.” “Prokrastinashun is the theaf of Time.” “Be virtoous & you will be Happy.” “Intemperunse has cawsed a heap of trubble—shun the Bole,” an the follerin sentimunt written by the skool master, who graduated at Hudson Kollige. “Baldinsville sends greetin to Her Magisty the Queen, & hopes all hard feelins which has heretofore previs bin felt between the Supervizers of Baldinsville and the British Parlimunt, if such there has been, may now be forever wiped frum our Escutchuns. Baldinsville this night rejoises over the gerlorious event which sementz 2 grate nashuns onto one anuther by means of a elecktric wire under the roarin billers of the Nasty Deep. Quosque tantrum, a butter, Caterliny, patent nostrum!” Squire Smith’s house was lited up regardlis of expense. His little sun William Henry stood upon the roof firin orf crackers. The old ’Squire hisself was dressed up in soljer clothes and stood on his door-step, pintin his sword sollumly to a American flag which was suspendid on top of a pole in frunt of his house. Frequiently he wood take orf his cocked hat & wave it round in a impressive stile. His oldest darter Mis Isabeller Smith, who has just cum home from the Perkinsville Female Instertoot, appeared at the frunt winder in the West room as the goddis of liberty, & sung “I see them on their windin way.” Booteus 1, sed I to myself, you air a angil & nothin shorter. N. Boneparte Smith, the ’Squire’s oldest sun, drest hisself up as Venus the God of Wars and red the Decleration of Inderpendunse from the left chambir winder. The ’Squire’s wife didn’t jine in the festiverties. She sed it was the tarnulest nonsense she ever seed. Sez she to the ’Squire, “Cum into the house and go to bed you old fool, you. Tomorrer you’ll be goin round half-ded with the rumertism & won’t gin us a minit’s peace till you get well.” Sez the ’Squire, “Betsy, you little appresiate the importance of the event which I this night commemerate.” Sez she, “Commemerate a cat’s tail—cum into the house this instant, you pesky old critter.” “Betsy,” sez the ’Squire, wavin his sword, “retire.” This made her just as mad as she could stick. She retired, but cum out agin putty quick with a panfull of Bilin hot water which she throwed all over the ’Squire, & Surs, you wood have split your sides larfin to see the old man jump up and holler & run into the house. Except this unpropishus circumstance all went as merry as a carriage bell, as Lord Byrun sez. Doctor Hutchinsis offiss was likewise lited up and a Transpirancy on which was painted the Queen in the act of drinkin sum of “Hutchinsis invigorater,” was stuck into one of the winders. The Baldinsville Bugle of Liberty noospaper offiss was also illumernated, & the follerin mottoes stuck out—“The Press is the Arkermejian leaver which moves the world.” “Vote Early.” “Buckle on your Armer.” “Now is the time to Subscribe.” “Franklin, Morse & Field.” “Terms $1,50 a year—liberal reducshuns to clubs.” In short the villige of Baldinsville was in a perfect fewroar. I never seed so many peple thar befour in my born days. Ile not attemp to describe the seens of that grate night. Wurds wood fale me ef I shood try to do it. I shall stop here a few periods and enjoy my “Oatem cum dig the tates,” as our skool master obsarves, in the buzzum of my famerly, & shall then resume the show bisnis, which Ive bin into twenty-two (22) yeres and six (6) months.

——From Artemus Ward, His Book. New-York: Carleton, 1862.