CHAPTER XII.
"There shall be, in England, seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass."
_Jack Cade._
"I do not see, sir," I remarked, as we moved on from the last of thesepauses, "why the governors and legislators, and writers on this subjectof anti-rentism, talk so much of feudality, and chickens, and days'works, and durable leases, when we have none of these, while we have allthe disaffection they are said to produce."
"You will understand that better as you come to know more of men. Noparty alludes to its weak points. It is just as you say; but theproceedings of your tenants, for instance, give the lie to the theoriesof the philanthropists, and must be kept in the back-ground. It is truethat the disaffection has not yet extended to one-half, or to one-fourthof the leased estates in the country, perhaps not to one-tenth, if youtake the number of the landlords as the standard, instead of the extentof their possessions, but it certainly _will_, should the authoritiestamper with the rebels much longer."
"If they tax the incomes of the landlords under the durable rentsystem, why would not the parties aggrieved have the same right to takeup arms to resist such an act of oppression as our fathers had in 1776?"
"Their cause would be better; for that was only a constructive right,and one dependent on general principles, whereas this is an attempt at amost mean evasion of a written law, the meanness of the attempt beingquite as culpable as its fraud. Every human being knows that such a tax,so far as it has any object beyond that of an election-sop, is to chokeoff the landlords from the maintenance of their covenants, which is athing that no State _can_ do directly, without running the risk ofhaving its law pronounced unconstitutional by the courts of the UnitedStates, if, indeed, not by its own courts."
"The Court of Errors, think you?"
"The Court of Errors is doomed, by its own abuses. Catiline never abusedthe patience of Rome more than that mongrel assembly has abused thepatience of every sound lawyer in the State. '_Fiat justitia, ruatcoelum_,' is interpreted, now, into 'Let justice be done, and the courtfall.' No one wishes to see it continued, and the approaching conventionwill send it to the Capulets, if it do nothing else to be commended. Itwas a pitiful imitation of the House of Lords system, with this strikingdifference; the English lords are men of education, and men with a vastdeal at stake, and their knowledge and interests teach them to leave thesettlement of appeals to the legal men of their body, of whom there arealways a respectable number, in addition to those in possession of thewoolsack and the bench; whereas our Senate is a court composed of smalllawyers, country doctors, merchants, farmers, with occasionally a man ofreally liberal attainments. Under the direction of an acute and honestjudge, as most of our true judges actually are, the Court of Errorswould hardly form such a jury as would allow a creditable person to betried by his peers, in a case affecting character, for instance, andhere we have it set up as a court of the last resort, to settle pointsof law!"
"I see it has just made a decision in a libel suit, at which theprofession sneers."
"It has, indeed. Now look at that very decision, for instance, as themeasure of its knowledge. An editor of a newspaper holds up a literaryman to the world as one anxious to obtain a small sum of money, in orderto put it into Wall street, for 'shaving purposes.' Now, the onlymaterial question raised was the true signification of the word'shaving.' If to say a man is a 'shaver,' in the sense in which it isapplied to the use of money, be bringing him into discredit, then wasthe plaintiff's declaration sufficient; if not, it was insufficient,being wanting in what is called an 'innuendo.' The dictionaries, and menin general, understand by 'shaving,' 'extortion,' and nothing else. Tocall a man a 'shaver' is to say he is an 'extortioner,' without goinginto details. But, in Wall street, and among money-dealers, certaintransactions that, in their eyes, and by the courts, are not deemeddiscreditable, have of late been brought within the category of'shaving.' Thus it is technically, or by convention among bankers,termed 'shaving' if a man buy a note at less than its face, which is alegal transaction. On the strength of this last circumstance, _as is setforth in the published opinions_, the highest Court of Appeals in NewYork has decided that it does not bring a man into discredit to say heis a 'shaver!'--thus making a conventional signification of the brokersof Wall street higher authority for the use of the English tongue thanthe standard lexicographers, and all the rest of those who use thelanguage! On the same principle, if a set of pickpockets at the FivePoints should choose to mystify their trade a little by including theterm 'to filch' the literal _borrowing_ of a pocket-handkerchief, itwould not be a libel to accuse a citizen of 'filching his neighbor'shandkerchief!'"
"But the libel was uttered to the _world_, and not to the brokers ofWall Street only, who might possibly understand their own terms."
"Very true; and was uttered in a newspaper that carried the falsehood toEurope; for the writer of the charge, when brought up for it, publiclyadmitted that he had no ground for suspecting the literary man of anysuch practices. _He_ called it a '_joke_.' Every line of the context,however, showed it was a malicious charge. The decision is very much asif a man who is sued for accusing another of 'stealing' should set up adefense that he meant 'stealing' hearts, for the word is sometimes usedin _that_ sense. When men use epithets that convey discredit in theirgeneral meaning, it is their business to give them a specialsignification in their own contexts, if such be their real intention.But I much question if there be a respectable money-dealer, even in Wallstreet, who would not swear, if called on in a court of justice so todo, that _he_ thought the general charge of 'shaving' discreditable toany man."
"And you think the landlords whose rents were taxed, sir, would have amoral right to resist?"
"Beyond all question; as it would be an income tax on them only, of allin the country. What is more, I am fully persuaded that two thousand menembodied to resist such tyranny would look down the whole availableauthority of the State; inasmuch as I do not believe citizens could befound to take up arms to enforce a law so flagrantly unjust. Men willlook on passively and see wrongs inflicted, that would never come out tosupport them by their own acts. But we are approaching the farm, andthere is Tom Miller and his hired men waiting our arrival."
It is unnecessary to repeat, in detail, all that passed in this oursecond visit to the farm-house. Miller received us in a friendly manner,and offered us _a_ bed, if we would pass the night with him. Thisbusiness of _a_ bed had given us more difficulty than anything else, inthe course of our peregrinations. New York has long got over the"two-man" and "three-man bed" system, as regards its best inns. At norespectable New York inn is a gentleman now asked to share even hisroom, without an apology and a special necessity, with another, muchless his bed; but the rule does not hold good as respects pedlars andmusic-grinders. We had ascertained that we were not only expected toshare the same bed, but to occupy that bed in a room filled with otherbeds. There are certain things that get to be second nature, and that nomasquerading will cause to go down; and, among others, one gets todislike sharing his room and his tooth-brush. This little difficultygave us more trouble that night, at Tom Miller's, than anything we hadyet encountered. At the taverns, bribes had answered our purpose; butthis would not do so well at a farm residence. At length the matter wasgot along with by putting me in the garret, where I was favoured with astraw bed under my own roof, the decent Mrs. Miller making manyapologies for not having a feather-smotherer, in which to "squash" me. Idid not tell the good woman that I never used feathers, summer orwinter; for, had I done so, she would have set me down as a poorcreature from "oppressed" Germany, where the "folks" did not know how tolive. Nor would she have been so much out of the way _quoad_ the beds,for in all my journeyings I never met with such uncomfortable sleepingas one finds in Germany, off the Rhine and out of the large towns.[3]
While
the negotiation was in progress I observed that Josh Brigham, asthe anti-rent disposed hireling of Miller's was called, kept a watchfuleye and an open ear on what was done and said. Of all men on earth, theAmerican of that class is the most "distrustful," as he calls ithimself, and has his suspicions the soonest awakened. The Indian on thewar-path--the sentinel who is posted in a fog, near his enemy, an hourbefore the dawn of day--the husband that is jealous, or the priest thathas become a partisan, is not a whit more apt to fancy, conjecture, orassert, than the American of that class who has become "distrustful."This fellow, Brigham, was the very beau ideal of the suspicious school,being envious and malignant, as well as shrewd, observant, and covetous.The very fact that he was connected with the "Injins," as turned out tobe the case, added to his natural propensities the consciousness ofguilt, and rendered him doubly dangerous. The whole time my uncle andmyself were crossing over and figuring in, in order to procure for eacha room, though it were only a closet, his watchful, distrustful looksdenoted how much he saw in our movements to awaken curiosity, if notdownright suspicion. When all was over, he followed me to the littlelawn in front of the house, whither I had gone to look at the familiarscene by the light of the setting sun, and began to betray the nature ofhis own suspicions by his language.
"The old man" (meaning my uncle Ro) "must have plenty of gold watchesabout him," he said, "to be so plaguy partic'lar consarnin' his bed.Pedlin' sich matters is a ticklish trade, I guess, in some parts?"
"Ja; it ist dangerous somevhere, but it might not be so in dis gootcoontry."
"Why did the old fellow, then, try so hard to get that little room allto himself, and shove you off into the garret? We hired men don't likethe garret, which is a hot place in summer."
"In Charmany one man hast ever one bed," I answered, anxious to get ridof the subject.
I bounced a little, as "one has one-half of a bed" would be nearer tothe truth, though the other half might be in another room.
"Oh! that's it, is't? Wa-a-l, every country has its ways, I s'pose.Jarmany is a desp'ate aristocratic land, I take it."
"Ja; dere ist moch of de old feudal law, and feudal coostum stillremaining in Charmany."
"Landlords a plenty, I guess, if the truth was known. Leases as long asmy arm, I calkerlate?"
"Vell, dey do dink, in Charmany, dat de longer might be de lease, debetter it might be for de denant."
As that was purely a German sentiment, or at least not an Americansentiment, according to the notions broached by statesmen amongourselves, I made it as Dutch as possible by garnishing it well withd's.
"That's a droll idee! Now, we think, here, that a lease is a bad thing;and the less you have of a bad thing, the better."
"Vell, dat _ist_ queer; so queer ast I don't know! Vhat vill dey do asmight help it?"
"Oh! the Legislature will set it all right. They mean to pass a law toprevent any more leases at all."
"Und vill de beople stand dat? Dis ist a free coontry, effery body dellsme, and vilt der beoples agree not to hire lands if dey vants to?"
"Oh! you see we wish to choke the landlords off from their presentleases; and, by and bye, when _that_ is done, the law can let up again."
"But ist dat right? Der law should be joost, and not hold down and letoop, as you calls it."
"You don't understand us yet, I see. Why that's the prettiest and theneatest legislation on airth! That's just what the bankrupt law did."
"Vhat did der bankroopt law do, bray? Vhat might you mean now?--I don'tknow."
"Do! why it did wonders for some on us, I can tell you! It paid ourdebts, and let us up when we was down; and that's no trifle, I can tellyou. I took 'the benefit,' as it is called, myself."
"You!--you might take der benefit of a bankroopt law! You, lifing hereast a hiret man, on dis farm!"
"Sartain; why not? All a man wanted, under _that_ law, was about $60 tocarry him through the mill; and if he could rake and scrape that muchtogether, he might wipe off as long a score as he pleased. I had beendealin' in speckylation, and that's a make or break business, I can tellyou. Well, I got to be about $423.22 wuss than nothin'; but, havingabout $90 in hand, I went through the mill without getting cogged thesmallest morsel! A man doos a good business, to my notion, when he canmake 20 cents pay a whull dollar of debt."
"Und you did dat goot business?"
"You may say that; and now I means to make anti-rentism get me a farmcheap--what _I_ call cheap; and that an't none of your $30 or $40 anacre, I can tell you!"
It was quite clear that Mr. Joshua Brigham regarded these transactionsas so many Pragmatic Sanctions, that were to clear the moral and legalatmospheres of any atoms of difficulty that might exist in the forms ofold opinions, to his getting easily out of debt, in the one case, andsuddenly rich in the other. I dare say I looked bewildered, but Icertainly felt so, at thus finding myself face to face with a low knave,who had a deliberate intention, as I now found, to rob me of a farm. Itis certain that Joshua so imagined, for, inviting me to walk down theroad with him a short distance, he endeavoured to clear up any moraldifficulties that might beset me, by pursuing the subject.
"You see," resumed Joshua, "I will tell you how it is. These Littlepageshave had this land long enough, and it's time to give poor folks achance. The young spark that pretends to own all the farms you see, farand near, never _did_ any thing for 'em in his life; only to be hisfather's son. Now, to my notion, a man should do suthin' for his land,and not be obligated for it to mere natur'. This is a free country, andwhat right has one man to land more than another?"
"Or do his shirt, or do his dobacco, or do his coat, or do anydingelse."
"Well, I don't go as far as that. A man has a right to his clothes, andmaybe to a horse or a cow, but he has no right to all the land increation. The law gives a right to a cow as ag'in' execution."
"Und doesn't der law gif a right to der landt, too? You most not dependon der law, if you might succeed."
"We like to get as much law as we can on our side. Americans like law:now, you'll read in all the books--_our_ books, I mean, them that'sprinted here--that the Americans be the most lawful people on airth, andthat they'll do more for the law than any other folks known!"
"Vell, dat isn't vhat dey says of der Americans in Europe; nein, nein,dey might not say dat."
"Why, don't you think it is so? Don't you think this the greatestcountry on airth, and the most lawful?"
"Vell, I don'ts know. Das coontry ist das coontry, and it ist vhat itist, you might see."
"Yes; I thought you would be of my way of thinking, when we got tounderstand each other." Nothing is easier than to mislead an American onthe estimate foreigners place on them: in this respect they are the mostdeluded people living, though, in other matters, certainly among theshrewdest. "That's the way with acquaintances, at first; they don'talways understand one another: and then you talk a little thick, like.But now, friend, I'll come to the p'int--but first swear you'll notbetray me."
"Ja, ja--I oonderstandst; I most schwear I won't bedray you: das istgoot."
"But, hold up your hand. Stop; of what religion be you?"
"Gristian, to be sure. I might not be a Chew. Nein, nein; I am a ferrybat Gristian."
"We are all bad enough, for that matter; but I lay no stress on _that_.A little of the devil in a man helps him along, in this business ofourn. But you must be suthin' more than a Christian, I s'pose, as wedon't call _that_ bein' of any religion at all, in this country. Of what_supportin'_ religion be you?"
"Soobortin'; vell, I might not oonderstands dat. Vhat ist soobortin'religion? Coomes dat vrom Melanchton and Luther?--or coomes it vrom derPope? Vhat ist dat soobortin' religion?"
"Why, what religion do you _patronize_? Do you patronize the standin'order, or the kneelin' order?--or do you patronize neither? Some folksthinks its best to lie down at prayer, as the least likely to divert thethoughts."
"I might not oonderstand. But nefer mindt der religion, and coome to derp'int dat you mentioned."
"Well, that p'int is this. You're a Jarman, and can't like aristocrats,and so I'll trust you; though, if you do betray me, you'll never play onanother bit of music in this country, or any other! If you want to be anInjin, as good an opportunity will offer to-morrow as ever fell in aman's way!"
"An Injin! Vhat goot vill it do to be an Injin? I dought it might bebetter to be a vhite man, in America?"
"Oh! I mean only an anti-rent Injin. We've got matters so nicely fixednow, that a chap can be an Injin without any paint at all, or anywashin' or scrubbin', but can convart himself into himself ag'in, at anytime, in two minutes. The wages is good and the work light; then we haverare chances in the stores, and round about among the farms. The law isthat an Injin must have what he wants, and no grumblin', and we takecare to want enough. If you'll be at the meetin', I'll tell you howyou'll know me."
"Ja, ja--dat ist goot; I vill be at der meetin', sartainly. Vhere mightit be?"
"Down at the village. The word came up this a'ternoon, and we shall allbe on the ground by ten o'clock."
"Vilt der be a fight, dat you meet so bunctually, and wid so mochspirit?"
"Fight! Lord, no; who is there to fight, I should like to know? We arepretty much all ag'in the Littlepages, and there's none of them on theground but two or three women. I'll tell you how it's all settled. Themeetin' is called on the deliberative and liberty-supportin' plan. Is'pose you know we've all sorts of meetin's in this country?"
"Nein; I dought dere might be meetin's for bolitics, vhen der beoplemight coome, but I don't know vhat else."
"Is't possible! What, have you no 'indignation meetin's' in Jarmany? Wecount a great deal on our indignation meetin's, and both sides have'emin abundance, when things get to be warm. Our meetin' to-morrow is fordeliberation and liberty-principles generally. We may pass someindignation resolutions about aristocrats, for nobody can bear themcritturs in this part of the country, I can tell you."
Lest this manuscript should get into the hands of some of those who donot understand the real condition of New York society, it may be well toexplain that "aristocrat" means, in the parlance of the country, noother than a man of gentleman-like tastes, habits, opinions andassociations. There are gradations among the aristocracy of the State,as well as among other men. Thus he who is an aristocrat in a hamlet,would be very democratic in a village; and he of the village might be noaristocrat in the town, at all; though, in the towns generally, indeedalways, when their population has the least of a town character, thedistinction ceases altogether, men quietly dropping into the traces ofcivilized society, and talking or thinking very little about it. To seethe crying evils of American aristocracy, then, one must go into thecountry. There, indeed, a plenty of cases exist. Thus, if there happento be a man whose property is assessed at twenty-five per cent. abovethat of all his neighbours--who must have right on his side bright as acloudless sun to get a verdict, if obliged to appeal to the laws--whopays fifty per cent. more for everything he buys, and receives fifty percent. less for everything he sells, than any other person near him--whois surrounded by rancorous enemies, in the midst of a seeming state ofpeace--who has everything he says and does perverted, and added to, andlied about--who is traduced because his dinner-hour is later than thatof "other folks"--who don't stoop, but is straight in the back--whopresumes to doubt that this country in general, and his own township inparticular, is the focus of civilization--who hesitates about signinghis name to any flagrant instance of ignorance, bad taste, or worsemorals, that his neighbours may get up in the shape of a petition,remonstrance, or resolution--depend on it that man is a prodigiousaristocrat, and one who, for his many offences and manner of lording itover mankind, deserves to be banished. I ask the reader's pardon for soabruptly breaking in upon Joshua's speech, but such very differentnotions exist about aristocrats, in different parts of the world, thatsome such explanation was necessary in order to prevent mistakes. I haveforgotten one mark of the tribe that is, perhaps, more material than allthe rest, which must not be omitted, and is this:--If he happen to be aman who prefers his own pursuits to public life, and is regardless of"popularity," he is just guilty of the unpardonable sin. The "people"will forgive anything sooner than this; though there are "folks" whofancy it as infallible a sign of an aristocrat not to chew tobacco. But,unless I return to Joshua, the reader will complain that I cause him tostand still.
"No, no," continued Mr. Brigham; "anything but an aristocrat for me. Ihate the very name of the sarpents, and wish there warn't one in theland. To-morrow we are to have a great anti-rent lecturer out----"
"A vhat?"
"A lecturer; one that lectur's, you understand, on anti-rentism,temperance, aristocracy, government, or any other grievance that mayhappen to be uppermost. Have you no lecturers in Jarmany?"
"Ja, ja; dere ist lecturers in das universities--blenty of dem."
"Well, we have 'em universal and partic'lar, as we happen to want 'em.To-morrow we're to have one, they tell me, the smartest man that hasappeared in the cause. He goes it strong, and the Injins mean to backhim up, with all sorts of shrieks and whoopin's. Your hurdy-gurdy,there, makes no sort of music to what our tribe can make when we fairlyopen our throats."
"Vell, dis ist queer! I vast told dat der Americans vast allphilosophers, und dat all dey didt vast didt in a t'oughtful and sobermanner; und now you dells me dey screams deir arguments like Injins!"
"That we do! I wish you'd been here in the hard-cider and log-cabintimes, and you'd a seen reason and philosophy, as you call it! I was awhig that summer, though I went democrat last season. There's about fivehundred on us in this county that make the most of things, I can tellyou. What's the use of a vote, if a body gets nothin' by it? Butto-morrow you'll see the business done up, and matters detarmined forthis part of the world, in fine style. We know what we're about, and wemean to carry things through quite to the end."
"Und vhat do you means to do?"
"Well, seein' that you seem to be of the right sort, and be so likely toput on the Injin shirt, I'll tell you all about it. We mean to get goodand old farms at favourable rates. That's what we mean to do. Thepeople's up and in 'arnest, and what the people want they'll have! Thistime they want farms, and farms they must have. What's the use of havin'a government of the people, if the people's obliged to want farms? We'vebegun ag'in' the Renssalaers, and the durables, and the quarter-sales,and the chickens; but we don't, by no manner of means, think of eendingthere. What should we get by that? A man wants to get suthin' when heputs his foot into a matter of this natur'. We know who's our fri'ndsand who's our inimies! Could we have some men I could name forgovernors, all would go clear enough the first winter. We would tax thelandlords out, and law 'em about in one way and another, so as to make'em right down glad to sell the last rod of their lands, and that cheap,too!"
"Und who might own dese farms, all oop and down der coontry, dat Isees?"
"As the law now stands, Littlepage owns 'em; but if we alter the lawenough, he wun't. If we can only work the Legislature up to the stickin'p'int, we shall get all we want. Would you believe it, the man wun'tsell a single farm, they say; but wishes to keep every one on 'em forhimself! Is that to be borne in a free country? They'd hardly stand thatin Jarmany, I'm thinkin'. A man that is such an aristocrat us to refuseto sell anything, I despise."
"Veil, dey stand to der laws in Charmany, and broperty is respected inmost coontries. You vouldn't do away wid der rights of broperty, if youmights, I hopes?"
"Not I. If a man owns a watch, or a horse, or a cow, I'm for having thelaw such that a poor man can keep 'em, even ag'in execution. We'regetting the laws pretty straight on them p'ints, in old York, I can tellyou; a poor man, let him be ever so much in debt, can hold on to amighty smart lot of things, now-a-days, and laugh at the law right inits face! I've known chaps that owed as much as $200, hold on to as goodas $300; though most of their debts was for the very things they held onto!"
What a picture is this, yet is it not true? A state of societ
y in whicha man can contract a debt for a cow, or his household goods, and laughat his creditor when he seeks his pay, on the one hand; and on theother, legislators and executives lending themselves to the chicanery ofanother set, that are striving to deprive a particular class of itsrights of property, directly in the face of written contracts! This isstraining at the gnat and swallowing the camel, with a vengeance; andall for votes! Does any one really expect a community can long exist,favoured by a wise and justice-dispensing Providence, in which suchthings are coolly attempted--ay, and coolly done? It is time that theAmerican began to see things as they are, and not as they are _said_ tobe, in the speeches of governors, fourth of July orations, andelectioneering addresses. I write warmly, I know, but I feel warmly; andI write like a man who sees that a most flagitious attempt to rob him istampered with by some in power, instead of being met, as the boastedmorals and intelligence of the country would require, by the sternopposition of all in authority. Curses--deep, deep curses--ere long,will fall on all who shrink from their duty in such a crisis. Even thevery men who succeed, if succeed they should, will, in the end, cursethe instruments of their own success.[4]
"A first-rate lecturer on feudal tenors," (Joshua was not in the leastparticular in his language, but, in the substance, he knew what he wastalking about as well as some who are in high places,) "chickens anddays' works. We expect a great deal from this man, who is paid well forcoming."
"Und who might bay him?--der State?"
"No--we haven't got to that _yet_; though some think the State will_have_ to do it, in the long run. At present the tenants are taxed somuch on the dollar, accordin' to rent, or so much an acre, and that waythe needful money is raised. But one of our lecturers told us, a timeback, that it was money put out at use, and every man ought to keep anaccount of what he give, for the time was not far off when he would getit back, with double interest. 'It is paid now for a reform,' he said,'and when the reform is obtained, no doubt the State would feel itselfso much indebted to us all, that it would tax the late landlords untilwe got all our money back again, and more too."
"Dat vould pe a bretty speculation; ja, dat might be most bootiful!"
"Why, yes; it wouldn't be a bad operation, living on the inimy, as abody might say. But you'll not catch our folks livin' on themselves, Ican tell you. That they might do without societies. No, we've an object;and when folks has an object, they commonly look sharp a'ter it. Wedon't let on all we want and mean openly: and you'll find folks among usthat'll deny stoutly that anti-renters has anything to do with the Injinsystem; but folks an't obliged to believe the moon is _all_ cheese,unless they've a mind to. Some among us maintain that no man ought tohold more than a thousand acres of land, while others think natur' haslaid down the law on that p'int, and that a man shouldn't hold morethan he has need on."
"Und vich side dost you favour?--vich of dese obinions might not beyours?"
"I'm not partic'lar, so I get a good farm. I should like one withcomfortable buildin's on 't, and one that hasn't been worked to death.For them two principles I think I'd stand out; but, whether there befour hundred acres, or four hundred and fifty, or even five hundred, I'mno way onaccomadatin'. I expect there'll be trouble in the eend, when wecome to the division, but I'm not the man to make it. I s'pose I shallget my turn at the town offices, and other chances, and, givin' me myrights in them, I'll take up with almost any farm young Littlepage has,though I should rather have one in the main valley here, than one moreout of the way; still, I don't set myself down as at all partic'lar."
"Und vhat do you expect to bay Mr. Littlepage for der farm, ast youmight choose?"
"That depends on sarcumstances. The Injins mainly expect to come incheap. Some folks think it's best to pay suthin', as it might standag'in' law better, should it come to that; while other some see no greatuse in paying anything. Them that's willing to pay, mainly hold out forpaying the principal of the first rents."
"I doesn't oonderstandt vhat you means py der brincipal of der firstrents."
"It's plain enough, when you get the lay on 't. You see, these landswere let pretty low, when they were first taken up from the forest, inorder to get folks to live here. That's the way we're obliged to do inAmerica, or people won't come. Many tenants paid no rent at all for six,eight, or ten years; and a'ter that, until their three lives run out, asit is called, they paid only sixpence an acre, or six dollars and aquarter on the hundred acres. That was done, you see, to buy men to comehere at all; and you can see by the price that was paid, how hard a timethey must have had on 't. Now, some of our folks hold that the whulltime ought to be counted--that which was rent free, and that which wasnot--in a way that I'll explain to you; for I'd have you to know Ihaven't entered into this business without looking to the right and thewrong on't."
"Exblain, exblain; I might hear you exblain, and you most exblain."
"Why, you're in a hurry, friend Griezenbach, or whatever your name be.But I'll explain, if you wish it. S'pose, now, a lease run thirtyyears--ten on nothin', and twenty on sixpences. Well, a hundredsixpences make fifty shillings, and twenty times fifty make a thousand,as all the rent paid in thirty years. If you divide a thousand bythirty, it leaves thirty-three shillings and a fraction"--Joshuacalculated like an American of his class, accurately and withrapidity--"for the average rent of the thirty years. Callingthirty-three shillings four dollars, and it's plaguy little more, wehave that for the interest, which, at 7 per cent., will make a principalof rather more than fifty dollars, though not as much as sixty. As sichmatters ought to be done on liberal principles, they say that Littlepageought to take fifty dollars, and give a deed for the hundred acres."
"Und vhat might be der rent of a hoondred acres now?--he might get moredan sixpence to-day?"
"That he does. Most all of the farms are running out on second, and someon third leases. Four shillings an acre is about the average of therents, accordin' to circumstances."
"Den you dinks der landtlort ought to accept one year's rent for derfarms?"
"I don't look on it in that light. He ought to take fifty dollars for ahundred acres. You forget the tenants have paid for their farms, overand over again, in rent. They _feel_ as if they have paid enough, andthat it was time to stop."
Extraordinary as this reasoning may seem in most men's minds, I havesince found it is a very favourite sentiment among anti-renters. "Are weto go on, and pay rent for ever?" they ask, with logical and virtuousindignation!
"Und vhat may be der aferage value of a hoondred acre farm, in dis partof de coontry?" I inquired.
"From two thousand five hundred to three thousand dollars. It would bemore, but tenants won't put good buildings on farms, you know, seein'that they don't own them. I heard one of our leaders lamentin' that hedidn't foresee what times was comin' to, when he repaired his old house,or he would have built a new one. But a man can't foretell everything. Idare say many has the same feelin's, now."
"Den you dinks Herr Littlebage ought to accept $50 for vhat is worth$2500? Das seem ferry little."
"You forget the back rent that has been paid, and the work the tenanthas done. What would the farm be good for without the work that has beendone on it?"
"Ja, ja--I oonderstandst; and vhat vould der work be goot for vidout derlandt on vhich it vast done?"
This was rather an incautious question to put to a man as distrustfuland rogueish as Joshua Brigham. The fellow cast a lowering anddistrustful look at me; but ere there was time to answer, Miller, ofwhom he stood in healthful awe, called him away to look after the cows.
Here, then, I had enjoyed an opportunity of hearing the opinions of oneof my own hirelings on the interesting subject of my right to my ownestate. I have since ascertained that, while these sentiments aresedulously kept out of view in the proceedings of the government, whichdeals with the whole matter as if the tenants were nothing but martyrsto hard bargains, and the landlords their task-masters, of greater orless lenity, they are extensively circulated in the "infecteddistricts," and
are held to be very sound doctrines by a large number ofthe "bone and sinew of the land." Of course the reasoning is varied alittle, to suit circumstances, and to make it meet the facts. But ofthis school is a great deal, and a very great deal, of the reasoningthat circulates on the leased property; and, from what I have seen andheard already, I make no doubt that there are _quasi_ legislators amongus who, instead of holding the manly and only safe doctrine which oughtto be held on such a subject, and saying that these deluded men shouldbe taught better, are ready to cite the very fact that such notions doexist as a reason for the necessity of making concessions, in order tokeep the peace at the cheapest rate. That profound principle oflegislation, which concedes the right in order to maintain quiet, isadmirably adapted to forming sinners; and, if carried out in favour ofall who may happen to covet their neighbour's goods, would, in a shorttime, render this community the very paradise of knaves.
As for Joshua Brigham, I saw no more of him that night; for he quittedthe farm on leave, just as it got to be dark. Where he went I do notknow; but the errand on which he left us could no longer be a secret tome. As the family retired early, and we ourselves were a good dealfatigued, everybody was in bed by nine o'clock, and, judging frommyself, soon asleep. Previously to saying "good night," however, Millertold us of the meeting of the next day, and of his intention to attendit.
The Redskins; or, Indian and Injin, Volume 1. Page 13
