Chapter III (2)

“I have very little more to say,” said the Southerner; “because the tour of Europe _finishes_ an American aristocrat. He has now been in England, France, and Italy;--he has, with his own eyes, seen the great and mighty upon earth;--he has exchanged visits with some of them, and has perhaps been asked to partake of their hospitality. It is now the business of the women to collect and carefully to preserve the many testimonials of respect which they may have received in the shape of cards, invitations, and letters; in order, on their return to the United States, to _prove_ to the incredulous that they have actually been the fashion in _Europe_, and that in consequence they have a right to be it in America. They are now advanced to the rank of ‘leading people,’ and an invitation to their houses is as much sought after as a letter of introduction to an European nobleman. ‘_They_ know Lord So-and-so!’ ‘_She_ was quite intimate with Lady So-and-so!’ ‘_He_ stayed a week at the country seat of the Marquis of ***!” ‘_She_ was presented at the Queen’s!’ ‘_Both_ their names were in Galignani’s Messenger!’ ‘_She_ is corresponding with the wife of the Honourable Mr. ***!’ ‘The Duke of *** was quite attentive to _her_!’ The Prince Royal of *** accompanied her on horseback!’ And a hundred other fine and flattering things are told of them in our fashionable _salons_; until Mr. and Mrs. *** are not only the fashion, but the envy of every family in Broadway.

“Fortunately for the business habits of our people, they cannot make proselytes among our industrious male population: but our fashionable women, one-half of whom live in boarding-houses, and the other half in houses kept by their servants, are wondrously taken by such accounts of the ‘success of the Americans abroad;’ and exhibit by their unnatural, affected, forced manners, and by the total abjuration of everything American, their solicitude to be governed by the same elevated standard of refinement. On this account many of our women think themselves vastly superior to their husbands; and a certain portion of them actually have a higher standing in society. Hence the thousand incongruities and absurdities you meet with in our fashionable circles; all proving that our people do not act from habit and conviction, but from imitation and precept, and that, consequently, they are always at a loss how to act when they come to a part not contained in their lesson. They will send out invitations to dinner at eight o’clock, merely because this is a good hour in London, deranging thereby not only their own business, but the business of everybody they ask; commence balls and parties at eleven or twelve o’clock, and end them at four in the morning, though at eight they have to be again at their counting-rooms; and visit at an hour when the majority of the people are at dinner. Fashions which are worn in London and Paris in the month of October, are introduced immediately after their arrival here in the beginning of winter. They must have musical _soirées_ without music; _thés littéraires_ without literature; and they must crowd their stair-cases with statues, to show that they have a taste for sculpture. One finds in our fashionable society some feeble, and, for the most part, unsuccessful imitation of everything that exists in Europe, but scarcely one original object as a proof of our national existence: so that, if it were possible to transfer a person directly from some fashionable French or English party to one of our stockholders’ balls in New York, Boston, or Philadelphia, he would scarcely perceive any visible change; though he might consider himself transported from the West-end to the City, or from the Faubourg St. Germain to the neighbourhood of La Bourse.”

“Pass the bottle!” cried the doctor; “I believe he has finished his long speech.”

“_I_ have a word to say now,” interposed the Bostonian; “I must wind up my argument with regard to our women as compared to the English.”

“Is he a ‘hard’ speaker?” inquired the New-Yorker.

“He isn’t quite equal to the member from Massachusetts,” replied my Southern friend, “who spoke seven hours in succession against time; but, before he continues, I must ask him whether he has seen Mrs. ***’s _tableaux vivants_. I believe she had some highly classical representations the other evening.”

“Just so,” said the doctor; “in which her daughter made the Sphinx, and Mr.***, the Wall-street shaver, the Numidian lion.”

“Capital!” ejaculated the Bostonian; “but I refer to no individual in particular--I only speak of the absurd tastes of our fashionable women in general. I would ask, by way of finishing the picture which our friend from Carolina so happily commenced, and in order to settle the question of reckless expenditure, on which you all seem to exhaust your eloquence, how many of those that belong to our fashionable society can afford its expenses without impairing their estates?--how many of them would be able to continue them without the assistance of credit?--and how many of them, if their estates were to be settled to-morrow, would be able to pay fifty cents in a dollar? I am accustomed to bring everything down to _figures_. We at the North are a practical people: we like to _calculate_.”

Here the New York gentleman took out his watch, and, pretending to be in a great hurry, abruptly left the room.

“Do you think _he_ is solvent?” said the doctor drily, emptying his glass.

“Not I,” replied the Bostonian. “Out of fifty persons that commence business in Boston, forty-nine are supposed to fail within the first five years; it takes them that long to learn the trade: and _we_ boast of doing business on a solid capital in comparison to the New-Yorkers. But they beat us all hollow in the way of credit; our most cunning brokers in State-street are nothing in comparison to a regular Wall-street shaver. But let me come to the point. Our fashionable people are prodigal of other people’s money; and, in entertaining their guests, go to the extent to which they are trusted. Take, for instance, the case of one of our pushing retail dealers. He is, of course, a married man, and has one or two partners who are also married. Each of them lives in a house for which he pays not less than six hundred dollars’ rent, and the furniture of which costs from three to four thousand dollars. Each of them keeps one male and one or two female servants, and, in short, supports his wife _as a lady_. Each of them must ask people to tea, each must give dinners to his friends, and all ‘push to get into society.’ Suppose these men to do business on their own capital,--a thing which does not occur once in fifty cases; and let us suppose that their joint stock in trade is worth a hundred thousand dollars; let us take for granted that, deducting losses and bad debts, they realise a clear profit of ten per cent. on their capital; and I can prove to you that, in the ordinary course of things, they must be bankrupts in a few years. What, then, are we to expect of the generality of our young men, who commence business with a borrowed capital, on which they pay from six to eight per cent. interest?”

“Let him figure it out!” cried the doctor,--“let him figure it out! he is a Yankee.”

“With all my heart,” said the Bostonian, “if you will only promise not to interrupt me.”

“Suppose the borrowed capital to consist of one hundred thousand dollars?

“Then the interest, at six per cent. would Dollars.
amount to 6,000

“Store rent, say 1,200

“Two clerks with a salary of 300 dollars per
annum 600

“Insurance on stock 1,000

“House rent for two partners, each 600 dollars 1,200

“Expenses of housekeeping, interest on
furniture, servants, &c. each 2500 dollars 5,000

“Ladies’ dresses, parties, carriage hire, and
incidental expenses, say each 1000 dollars 2,000

“Gentlemen’s dresses, horse hire, newspapers,
and tobacco, say each 500 dollars 1,000
------
“Grand sum total 18,000

“Clear profit on 100,000 dollars’ worth of
stock (deducting 25 per cent. bad debts),
say 10 per cent. 10,000
------
“Deficit 8,000

“Pray, what ruins these men, but the want of domestic economy in their own households? An English shopkeeper would be content to live in a house for which he would not pay more than from fifty to sixty pounds’ rent. His carpets would be Kidderminster, instead of Brussels or Turkey. His wife would require no other servant but a cook or a kitchen-girl; and would no more dream of giving parties, or vieing with the splendour of merchants and bankers, than she would of bringing up her children to match the peers of the empire. This is the advantage a shopkeeper has who marries an _English_ girl. He gets, at least, a wife that wears well,--a substantial housekeeper, that administers to his comfort, and assists him in laying up a penny for rainy days. If her husband dies, she is, for the most part, capable of continuing his business, and making an honest living for her children. With all the morality, virtue, and beauty of our women, they are but helpless creatures. The wife of one of our young ‘merchants of respectability’ requires more waiting than, in proportion to her rank, an English peeress; and, ten chances to one, does not even understand superintending her servants. Her husband, in addition to ten or twelve hours’ hard labour at his counting-room, has to take care of his household, in which he is intrusted with the several important and honourable functions of steward, butler, groom, footman, and housemaid; while the education of the children is only at the extreme North and South--in New England and in the Southern States--superintended personally by the mother.

“One of our fashionable young women,--innocent, kind, gay, handsome, beautiful, as she may be,--is after all of no use whatever to a poor man who has to work for his living; except that, by trebling his expenditure, she is a most powerful stimulus to industry and enterprise. If he fail in business, or die without providing for her and her children, she has no other means of saving herself from starvation than that of opening a boarding-house; which is generally so ill managed, that in less than a year she is involved in debt, and sees her furniture brought to the hammer.

“As long as our young merchants get rich by speculations, or have their notes shaved by a Wall-street broker at the rate of one per cent. a month, they may be right in marrying those dear little objects of care and caresses; but when, at some future day, wealth will become the reward of labour and frugality, our ‘respectable young men’ will be obliged to select their wives for the kitchen as well as the parlour. All I can say in favour of our fashionable women is, that they do more for the settlement of the Western country than the soil, climate and the cheapness of land.”

“And what is most remarkable,” interrupted my friend, “is, that those very women, after they have resided a year or two in the Western States, become, by the strong force of example, and perhaps also from dire necessity, real Dutch housewives.”

“That is to say,” observed the Bostonian, “they scrub their own floors, clean the door-handles, wash the windows, sweep the rooms, make themselves busy in the kitchen, and walk about with children in their arms; all which, I can assure you, is done by the women of the best society in the Western States without destroying either their health or good looks. Women there are obliged to work, because they cannot find servants to do the work for them; and yet they are infinitely happier than your New York or Philadelphia ladies, who rise at eight or nine, breakfast at ten,--then, as Miss Fanny Kemble would have it, _potter_ three or four hours,--then have a chat with three or four women of their set,--then walk Broadway or Chesnut-street, or go shopping,--then sit down to dinner,--then _potter_ again until six o’clock,--then take tea,--and finally dress for a party, at which, unless they be very young, they stick up against the wall until supper.”

“I certainly wish for a medium between the extreme hardships of American women in the Western country, and their comparative indolence in the seaports,” observed my friend; “and yet I am glad that the republican spirit of the West is opposed to servitude of any kind, for it is a great corrective of our vulgar aristocracy of money. If, in the Western States, you could at all times command a sufficient number of hands, the possession of large real estates would soon lay the foundation of an aristocracy much more substantial and durable than that which effervesces on our seaboard. The human heart, after all, is aristocratic--that is, selfish--by nature; so that, if the resistance of the lower classes does not check the aggressions of the higher ones, the latter are sure eventually to get possession of the government. The Western settlers, who are obliged to work, and their wives, who must themselves superintend their households, have not even the time necessary for forming those exclusive coteries which govern society in the Atlantic cities.”

“And yet,” said the Bostonian, “it is not more than a year ago that I heard the wife of a Pittsburg lawyer complain of the state of their society, which was ‘dreadfully’ spoiled by the number of adventurers pouring in from the Eastern States.”

“Capital!” cried my friend; “the probability is she herself was but settled a few years.”

“That was precisely her case,” rejoined the Bostonian; “and, while she was playing the old family of the place, she wiped her children’s noses with her apron.”

“Now, I like that kind of aristocracy,” cried the doctor, “which is obliged to wipe babies’ noses, and that kind of family which is considered ancient when it has been three years stationary in a place; for it affords the surest proof that the true elements out of which an aristocracy may be formed are not yet to be found in the country.”

“You are out again,” cried the Bostonian. “You Englishmen, for some reason or other, never understand the particular genius of our people. We have ‘lots’ of aristocracy in our country, cheap, and plenty as bank-bills and credit, and equally subject to fluctuation. To-day it is worth so much,--to-morrow more or less,--and, in a month, no one will take it on any terms. We have, in fact, at all times, a _vast deal_ of aristocracy; the only difficulty consists in retaining it. Neither is the position of our aristocrats much to be envied. Amidst the general happiness and prosperity of our people, their incessant cravings after artificial distinctions are never satisfied; they are a beggarly set of misers that will not sit down to dinner as long as there is a stranger present whom they are obliged to ask; and, as for the women, their position is truly deplorable. They are neither employed in domestic pursuits, nor does our society furnish them the _agrémens_ of Europe. In a country whose population is the most active and industrious in the world, they are troubled with _ennui_, and have the whole livelong day no other companions than a few inquisitive creatures of their own sex. Were our women more engaged in the pursuits of active life,--were our state of society such as to offer them a more extended sphere of influence and usefulness,--did they receive less homage as _women_, and more as rational accountable beings, their aristocratic squeamishness would soon yield to a more sensible appreciation of character, and a patriotic attachment to their country.”

“The same aristocratic feeling which pervades our fashionable women, operates also on our girls in the lower walks of life,” observed the Southerner; “only that it is there called ‘independence.’ Now, I like independence in men, but I despise it in women. The dependence of women on men is the proper tie between the sexes, and the strong basis of gallantry and chivalry. I dislike your ‘independent factory girls,’ though they _did_ turn out six hundred strong, all dressed in white, to be reviewed by General Jackson.”[3]

“Since you mention the ‘independent factory girls,’ you ought not to forget the girls of our independent press,” observed the Bostonian.

“What sort of girls are those?” demanded my friend.

“They are employed as compositors and _pressmen_ in our printing-offices,” replied the Bostonian, “reducing the wages of our journeymen printers, and preparing themselves for housekeeping by composing the works of our best authors. I know two of them who became expert cooks by composing ‘The Frugal Housewife,’ by Mrs. Child; and a third prepared herself for her approaching marriage by setting up ‘The Mother’s Book.’ These girls, you must know, are distinguished by a highly aristocratic feeling; and would no more condescend to speak to one of our waiting-women, than the wife of a president of an insurance-office would deign to leave a card for the poor consort of a professor in one of our colleges. _They dress and act as ladies_; and, if you do not believe their claims to ‘gentility,’ they will show them to you in print.”

“It is not more than a month ago, that, while in Washington, I had occasion to call at the office of one of my friends who is an editor of a daily paper. Not finding him there, I entered the press-room, where, much to my surprise, I found three pretty girls, dressed as if they had been measured by _Madame Victorine_, and in _bonnets_ corresponding to the last fashion of the _Rue Vivienne_, busily engaged in multiplying the speeches of our orators and statesmen. This, however, was done in the most dignified manner; for when I asked for the master of the establishment, where I could find him, when he would be in, &c. one of them, in lieu of an answer, merely pointed to a large placard stuck to one of the columns which supported the ceiling, on which there was the following peremptory request, printed in gigantic letters:--

“‘_Gentlemen are requested not to stand and look about,--because the ladies don’t like it._’”

“And did you then immediately leave the room?” inquired the doctor.

“I had no other alternative,” replied the Bostonian: “if I had remained one minute longer, there would have been an article against me in next morning’s paper. This is a sort of trades’ aristocracy formed by the female part of our population; for such seems to be the disgust of our girls for domestic occupation, that they will rather become tailoresses, printers, bookbinders, or work at a manufactory, than degrade themselves by ‘living out.’[4] And yet I am bound to say they maintain their aristocratic dignity better than many a stockholder’s wife and daughters; and I have never known a single instance in which they did not completely succeed in keeping their fellow-workmen in subjection and at a proper distance.”

“This deserves a sentiment,” cried the doctor; “let us call on our friend from Massachusetts to propose one.”

“With all my heart, gentlemen,” said the Boston lawyer. “I give you ‘The Young Ladies’ Trades’ Union, and their champion Mr. C----y of Philadelphia: may they never reduce the price of labour of their fellow-workmen, but rather succeed in raising their own!’”

“Bravo!” shouted the company; “and worth as much again, coming from such a source. Old C----y himself could not have proposed a nobler sentiment. Pity it won’t be published; it would make him immensely popular!”

“Pray, don’t pass him the bottle,” cried my friend; “he is done up for to-day. I never knew a Bostonian to talk of raising the price of labour except when he was drunk.”

“Nor I either,” cried the doctor. “I always heard them boast that no Jew could live amongst them, because they cheated him.”

“Then let us vote him drunk, and fine him an extra bottle,” said the doctor.

“He will never forgive you _that_,” observed my friend.

“Call for the wine,” cried the Bostonian; “call for it instantly,--we must drink it on the spot.”

“We shall not have time for it,” observed my friend; “for, if we do not quit this very moment, the negroes will drive us away in order to set the table for tea.”

“You touched the bright side of his character,” whispered the doctor to my friend as he was slowly rising from the table. “He has the most irresistible aversion to spending money; but, when caught in a trap like this, I don’t know a person who can affect so much generosity.”

FOOTNOTES:

[2] This is generally done by gentlemen in the absence of footmen.

[3] When General Jackson, on his tour through the Northern States, visited Lowell, the girls employed in the cotton manufactories of that place turned out, dressed in white, to welcome the American President.

[4] The usual American appellation for living at service.