On December 14, 1859, the United States Senate passed a resolution to establish a select committee to inquire into the invasion of Harper's Ferry, Virginia, and the seizure of public property that occurred there during October of that year. As directed by the resolution, Vice President John C. Breckinridge, the presiding officer of the Senate, appointed as members of the committee James. M. Mason, a Democrat from Virginia (chairman); Jefferson Davis, a Democrat from Mississippi; Graham N. Fitch, a Democrat from Indiana; Jacob Collamer, a Republican from Vermont; and James R. Doolittle, a former Democrat turned Republican from Wisconsin. After holding hearings and examining witnesses, the committee delivered its majority and minority reports on June 15, 1860.
On October 16, 1859, John Brown and 17 others entered Harper's Ferry for the purpose of capturing the federal arsenal located there. John Brown and his sons and sons-in-law had been active in the violence over slavery in The Territory of Kansas, and he had become acquainted with some of his associates there. They took hostages, detained and then released a mail train en route to Baltimore, and in the process killed three white men and one free Negro.
Local citizens attacked the raiders, and John Brown along with some of his men and some hostages, took shelter in an engine house. A contingent of United States Marines stormed the engine house, killing some of the raiders and capturing others, including John Brown. Four other men were to bring a store of weapons from John Brown's base of operations in nearby Maryland, but they did not arrive in Harper's Ferry and fled the scene.
The weapons included 200 Sharps rifled carbines, 200 revolver pistols and 1,000 pikes – each a steel knife blade riveted to the end of a five foot wooden handle. After his capture, John Brown stated that his purpose was to arm the slaves and use them as a military force in Virginia. Of the 22 raiders, ten were killed in Harper's Ferry, 10 were executed, and five escaped – one of the raiders who entered Harper's Ferry and the four who remained in Maryland.
The committee divided along party lines. Although the majority and the minority did not differ as to the facts, they split over the breadth of the committee's inquiry, the context in which it was evaluated and the implications it held for the future. In addition to exploring the facts of the raid, the committee was charged with advising whether the Congress should enact legislation to deal with any such future invasion of a state.
Both reports agreed that no such legislation was called for. The minority argued that the inquiry should have stopped with that conclusion and complained that the majority went beyond the committee's mandate to inquire into the actions and beliefs of certain abolitionists who had aided John Brown although without knowing – so they claimed and in the absence of clear evidence to the contrary – that he planned a campaign of violence.
The majority clearly believed otherwise, owing in part to John Brown's reputation from the Kansas violence and the cavalier way in which the abolitionists had entrusted 200 rifles to him for safekeeping. In this connection the committee elicited from some of the witness strong statements about their desire to end slavery and about their belief in a "higher law" that empowered them to challenge slavery.
The majority concluded that John Brown and his colleagues were "lawless ruffians" against whom the laws of the states were proof and that the United States was without the power to legislate. The majority warned that "If the several states, whether from motives of policy or a desire to preserve the peace of the Union, if not from fraternal feeling, do not hold it incumbent on them, after the experience of the country to guard in future by appropriate legislation against occurrences similar to the one here inquired into, the committee can find no guarantee elsewhere for the security of peace between the States of the Union."
The minority took a different tack, observing that "It is almost astonishing that in a country like ours, laden with the rich experience of the blessings of security under the protection of law, there should still be found large bodies of men laboring under the infatuation that any good object can be affected by lawlessness and violence." And as illustration of this view they referred to the filibusters who invaded neighboring countries for the apparent purpose of bringing such lands under American dominion for the expansion of slavery, those who violated the laws against engaging in the slave trade and the border ruffians who entered the Kansas Territory for the purpose of securing the permanence of slavery there.
The minority continued, "While this act of violence and treason, and the alarm, suspicion, suffering and death it involves are so deplorable, we cannot but see that the lessons which it teaches furnish many considerations of security against its repetition", not the least of which was that the ages might not produce another John Brown and provide him with resources.
An interesting footnote to the committee's hearing and dueling reports is that, shortly after the Senate adopted the resolution to establish the select committee, Senator William Bigler, Democrat from Pennsylvania, offered a bill, designated S. 72, that empowered that the President to summon and employ the militia "whenever the United States, or any State or Territory thereof, shall be invaded, or be in in imminent danger of invasion, from any place whatever, whether external or internal, to the United States". The bill was referred to the select committee on the invasion of Harper's Ferry. When Senator Mason offered the committee's report to the Senate, he also moved that the committee be relieved of any further obligation to consider Bill S. 72.
When after the 1860 election the states of the deep south began to secede, President James Buchanan lamented that, although he believed that secession was unlawful, he lacked to authority to take action against it. Had Bill S. 72 become law, it might have provided the legal authority that the president said he lacked based upon the argument that the secession governments constituted domestic invasions. If it had been enacted and provided the power, the question remains whether President Buchanan would have had the backbone to use it.
President Buchanan has never rank highly within the pantheon or American deities, so it is easy to think ill of him. President Buchanan had sent a vessel to Charleston with supplies for the garrison at Fort Sumter, but Confederate batteries at the mouth of the harbor fired on it and drove it away. President Lincoln advised the Confederates that he was sending food to Fort Sumter, but if the expedition was fired upon it would put ashore additional troops and ammunition. General Pierre G.T. Beauregard, in commend of Confederate forces at Charleston, regarded Fort Sumter, if held by an adequate force, a perfect Gibraltar. The situation forced the Confederates to fire on the fort before it was strengthened. When the Confederates fired on the national flag, they largely unified northern public opinion in favor of using force to preserve the Union, a luxury that President Buchanan did not enjoy.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
The Panic of 1857
Until now, the Chinese government has been widely applauded for its deftness in managing economic matters. For instance, its massive stimulus program launched in late 2008 helped the Chinese economy weather the global financial crisis.
It also saddled the economy with debt, a property bubble and wasteful projects throughout the country. As part of a strategy to help the companies unwind the debts they had taken on in that push, policy makers encouraged stock investing.
It also saddled the economy with debt, a property bubble and wasteful projects throughout the country. As part of a strategy to help the companies unwind the debts they had taken on in that push, policy makers encouraged stock investing.
"Chinese Government Struggles in Attempt to Stem Distress in Stock Market", Lingling Wei, Wall Street Journal Online, July 8, 2015 9:42 a.m. ET
When you cut through a lot of the mumbo jumbo, and if you ignore the body of laws and regulations that have grown up since 1860 that affect banks and other financial institutions, the business of being a banker is not very difficult. You as a banker have a stock of money that comes from two sources – the capital provided by the owners of the bank, and the deposits that come from people who have given you their money for safekeeping. The world is filled with people who want to use your money, and you lend it them for a fee.
If you are careful about who you lend to, most of the people who borrow from you will pay you back, but a few will not. Taking this into account, you set the fee for the use of your money so that it will cover the costs of your doing business (including your salary and the interest you have promised to pay your depositors), reimburse you for the losses you will suffer from those who don't pay you back, and provide a profit so that you can pay a dividend to the owners who provided the capital.
When we think about banking in the United States before the Civil War, we need to keep in mind the fact that two types of money (as currency) were in use. One type was specie – gold and silver coins minted by the government. The other type was banknotes – pieces of paper issued by commercial banks that represented the issuing bank's promise to pay the bearer a specified amount of money in the form of gold and silver coins.
The law required the banks to keep in their vaults an amount of specie – the "reserves" – that represented a percentage of their banknotes that were in circulation. Of course, because the reserves represented only a portion of the banknotes in circulation, it would not be sufficient to repay all the notes if the holders sought to redeem them all at once. But since a paper banknote is redeemable at will for an equivalent amount of coin, most of the time an individual will be indifferent as to whether he holds a banknote or coin.
So, if you are a banker looking at the balance sheet for you bank, you have certain assets, including the cash (specie) in your vaults and the money you have loaned and that you expect to receive back from your borrowers, and you have certain liabilities, including the amounts that your depositors have given you for safekeeping and the banknotes you have issued that represent their right to demand from you the payment in specie.
If you are an experienced banker who has learned the business of banking from other experienced bankers you will understand that your business goes through seasonal cycles. The amount of loans, deposits, banknotes in circulation, and reserves of coin in the vault will rise and fall, but so long as they remain within the rough relationship to one another that they have maintained over time, all should go smoothly and profitably.
In 1857 New York City possessed the largest concentration of banks in the United States making it the financial capital of the nation. For the convenience of their respective business, the banks had formed a clearinghouse organization in which representatives of all the banks met at the end of each business day and settled their accounts. It not only promoted the efficiency of their business, but provided the members with insight into each other's financial condition. The advantage to you as a banker is that you knew not only the condition of your own balance sheets but also the condition of the balance sheet of every other major bank in the city.
In late summer of 1857, a substantial number of the bankers in New York City woke up to the realization that they were operating outside of their comfort zone. Summer was a peak lending time. The aggregate amount of loans outstanding for the New York banks was nearly a third larger than it had been in any of the recent years, and the combined amount of banknotes in circulation and deposits at the banks – both representing claims against the banks' reserves – also was substantially larger than in prior years. At the same time, the aggregate amount of reserves had declined.
The banks reacted by demanding repayment of loans then due – a portion of the loans were "demand" loans that permitted to lender to require repayment at any time – and by refusing to renew existing loans or make new loans. Needless to say, these actions caused substantial distress as people who needed money to operate their businesses and ventures could not get it. People who had borrowed money to buy securities and other assets were forced to sell, and the flood of selling pushed prices down. Business that could not pay their bills failed. The telegraph and newspapers spread the story – and the panic – across the nation. The failure of a major financial institution in Ohio increased the alarm. Depositors and holders of banknotes sought to redeem their claims for specie, but the banks, acting as a group, refused to honor their requests.
What does all this have to do, as we used to say, with the price of tea in China? What is the relevance of the Panic of 1857 to the conditions in the United States in the twenty-first century?
To sort this out, let's look at what has changed and what has not. First, the money is different. Banknotes and specie are a thing of the past. Starting with the introduction of greenbacks during the Civil War and culminating with the birth and grown of the Federal Reserve System, the United States now has a national currency that is not directly dependent upon the financial health of any one bank. Second, many bank deposits are insured, which has made bank runs as scarce of hens' teeth. In fact, the only exposure to a bank run that most people have nowadays consists of a few scenes in the 1946 Frank Capra movie "It's a Wonderful Life" starring James Stewart and Donna Reed. Bank failures still occur, but the collateral damage is reduced when individual banks implode. Third, we have the Federal Reserve System that oversees the money supply and acts as a lender of last resort. In 1791 and again in 1816 the United States gathered the political will to establish the Bank of the United States, which acted as the fiscal agent for the national government and imposed some discipline upon the banking industry, much to the displeasure of the industry. The first Bank of the United States was permitted to expire, and President Andrew Jackson killed the second one. Fourth, the amount of regulation and regulatory apparatus has grown from virtually nothing into multiple state and federal institutions with broad mandates, broad powers and overlapping jurisdictions.
In spite of all that has changed, major financial dislocations still occur and are likely to occur in the future. No one fact causes a major financial dislocation, and while specific underlying facts differ from one event to another, the general causal trends seem to be a growing consensus that the debt load in some part of the economy or the world is larger than can be readily repaid because of the amount of the debt, changing economic conditions or worries that the assets purchased using credit – like stocks in 1929 or houses in 2008 – might be substantially overvalued.
Let's look at how the aggregate debt load might become excessive. The marketplace has thousands of potential lenders, all of whom are in the business of renting money to people who believe they can use the money to turn a profit. If you are a loan officer, you have a choice between making the incremental loan and earning your bonus or failing to make the loan and getting fired. If you are the bank president, you look at the balance sheet of your institution and the financial conditions generally, and then you decide whether it is prudent for your institution to take on the additional risk of the incremental loan. Even if the bank president is considering the aggregate amount of similar loans being made by all the lenders in the marketplace, his inclination will be to keep lending because failing to do so means foregoing the incremental profit.
But at some point the bank president becomes worried. He reads the economic statistics; he sees some leading indicators weaken; he recalls that he has authorized the consummation of some slightly aggressive loans (compensated, of course, by a correspondingly higher rate of interest); and he begins to wonder how his bank's loan portfolio might fare if conditions go south. And, of course, there is always some Cassandra predicting that the next crash or recession is just around the corner – from time to time one of them will be right.
If one bank president has cause to become worried, perhaps a dozen come to the same conclusion, and without coordinate action among them, but reacting to the same general indicators, their previous optimism becomes clouded over by prudence, and they scale back their incremental lending and stop rolling over their more worrisome credits. The fact that they are doing so inevitably becomes known, and the fact becomes an additional – and additionally persuasive – factor that other bank presidents and other market participants will weigh in the mix.
The foregoing discussion has spoken about "loans", but it could easily have focused on other assets. If one became persuaded that the stock market was exhibiting "irrational exuberance", one might be prudent to reduce one stock portfolio before the market tanked. If one became persuaded that housing prices were overstated, one might unload one's portfolio of collateralized mortgage obligations before the default rate spiked and exceed the rate assumed when the instruments were originally sold. In either case, the selling itself becomes an economic fact of which others will take note and contribute to the tipping of greed into fear.
Greed and fear are, of course, the primary economic motivators. They are selfish motivators that focus primarily upon one's own profit and one's own safety. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with this since we expect our commercial institutions to be profitable and we expect them to behave rationally to that end. There are always unintended or collateral consequences. Although Adam Smith's "invisible hand" may produce a greater overall benefit in many cases and under ordinary circumstances, it does not do so in every case and certainly not in emergency situations. When conditions start to go bad, those who act first to protect themselves are most likely to suffer the least injury, although their precipitous actions may result in injury to others.
In a perfect world we would be able to eliminate panics and market disturbances by preventing the aggregate debt in any part of the national or the world economy from becoming excessive, by curbing "irrational exuberance" before it becomes irrational or exuberant and by preventing supply and demand from pushing the market price of assets in excess of their "real" value – whatever that may be. Based upon what we know, what we believe and what we reasonably can foresee, nothing like this is ever going to happen.
Since we have not been able to achieve the impossible, we have tried alternative approaches. One such is to require institutions to become more robust and therefore capable of withstanding the consequences of the market's folly by restricting the institution from certain lines of business that are considered too risky and imposing requirements and limitations on how its business operates. The judgment is that of a governmental regulator and not of the institution's manager so the limits will not be tailored to the needs of the institution's business and will probably be contrary to the institution's profit interest. Moreover, insofar as making the institution sufficiently robust to withstand the next economic crisis, the institution's vulnerability to the effects of that crisis will depend upon the nature of the crisis. If the institution's portfolio is not heavily exposed to the assets that are being hammered in the crisis, it is less likely to be at risk. I don't see where a regulator has a better chance of making that call correctly than does a manager.
In 1857 the traditions and ideas about the duties of government left regulation of banks to the states, and even there the hand of government rested lightly. Government has grown to be more intrusive, but that does not mean that it has become more effective, and I am fearful – when I hear government officials speak about institutions that are too big to fail and too big to jail – that much of the actions taken by the government are window dressings, intended largely to persuade the public that it has the problem is well in hand.
If you are careful about who you lend to, most of the people who borrow from you will pay you back, but a few will not. Taking this into account, you set the fee for the use of your money so that it will cover the costs of your doing business (including your salary and the interest you have promised to pay your depositors), reimburse you for the losses you will suffer from those who don't pay you back, and provide a profit so that you can pay a dividend to the owners who provided the capital.
When we think about banking in the United States before the Civil War, we need to keep in mind the fact that two types of money (as currency) were in use. One type was specie – gold and silver coins minted by the government. The other type was banknotes – pieces of paper issued by commercial banks that represented the issuing bank's promise to pay the bearer a specified amount of money in the form of gold and silver coins.
The law required the banks to keep in their vaults an amount of specie – the "reserves" – that represented a percentage of their banknotes that were in circulation. Of course, because the reserves represented only a portion of the banknotes in circulation, it would not be sufficient to repay all the notes if the holders sought to redeem them all at once. But since a paper banknote is redeemable at will for an equivalent amount of coin, most of the time an individual will be indifferent as to whether he holds a banknote or coin.
So, if you are a banker looking at the balance sheet for you bank, you have certain assets, including the cash (specie) in your vaults and the money you have loaned and that you expect to receive back from your borrowers, and you have certain liabilities, including the amounts that your depositors have given you for safekeeping and the banknotes you have issued that represent their right to demand from you the payment in specie.
If you are an experienced banker who has learned the business of banking from other experienced bankers you will understand that your business goes through seasonal cycles. The amount of loans, deposits, banknotes in circulation, and reserves of coin in the vault will rise and fall, but so long as they remain within the rough relationship to one another that they have maintained over time, all should go smoothly and profitably.
In 1857 New York City possessed the largest concentration of banks in the United States making it the financial capital of the nation. For the convenience of their respective business, the banks had formed a clearinghouse organization in which representatives of all the banks met at the end of each business day and settled their accounts. It not only promoted the efficiency of their business, but provided the members with insight into each other's financial condition. The advantage to you as a banker is that you knew not only the condition of your own balance sheets but also the condition of the balance sheet of every other major bank in the city.
In late summer of 1857, a substantial number of the bankers in New York City woke up to the realization that they were operating outside of their comfort zone. Summer was a peak lending time. The aggregate amount of loans outstanding for the New York banks was nearly a third larger than it had been in any of the recent years, and the combined amount of banknotes in circulation and deposits at the banks – both representing claims against the banks' reserves – also was substantially larger than in prior years. At the same time, the aggregate amount of reserves had declined.
The banks reacted by demanding repayment of loans then due – a portion of the loans were "demand" loans that permitted to lender to require repayment at any time – and by refusing to renew existing loans or make new loans. Needless to say, these actions caused substantial distress as people who needed money to operate their businesses and ventures could not get it. People who had borrowed money to buy securities and other assets were forced to sell, and the flood of selling pushed prices down. Business that could not pay their bills failed. The telegraph and newspapers spread the story – and the panic – across the nation. The failure of a major financial institution in Ohio increased the alarm. Depositors and holders of banknotes sought to redeem their claims for specie, but the banks, acting as a group, refused to honor their requests.
What does all this have to do, as we used to say, with the price of tea in China? What is the relevance of the Panic of 1857 to the conditions in the United States in the twenty-first century?
To sort this out, let's look at what has changed and what has not. First, the money is different. Banknotes and specie are a thing of the past. Starting with the introduction of greenbacks during the Civil War and culminating with the birth and grown of the Federal Reserve System, the United States now has a national currency that is not directly dependent upon the financial health of any one bank. Second, many bank deposits are insured, which has made bank runs as scarce of hens' teeth. In fact, the only exposure to a bank run that most people have nowadays consists of a few scenes in the 1946 Frank Capra movie "It's a Wonderful Life" starring James Stewart and Donna Reed. Bank failures still occur, but the collateral damage is reduced when individual banks implode. Third, we have the Federal Reserve System that oversees the money supply and acts as a lender of last resort. In 1791 and again in 1816 the United States gathered the political will to establish the Bank of the United States, which acted as the fiscal agent for the national government and imposed some discipline upon the banking industry, much to the displeasure of the industry. The first Bank of the United States was permitted to expire, and President Andrew Jackson killed the second one. Fourth, the amount of regulation and regulatory apparatus has grown from virtually nothing into multiple state and federal institutions with broad mandates, broad powers and overlapping jurisdictions.
In spite of all that has changed, major financial dislocations still occur and are likely to occur in the future. No one fact causes a major financial dislocation, and while specific underlying facts differ from one event to another, the general causal trends seem to be a growing consensus that the debt load in some part of the economy or the world is larger than can be readily repaid because of the amount of the debt, changing economic conditions or worries that the assets purchased using credit – like stocks in 1929 or houses in 2008 – might be substantially overvalued.
Let's look at how the aggregate debt load might become excessive. The marketplace has thousands of potential lenders, all of whom are in the business of renting money to people who believe they can use the money to turn a profit. If you are a loan officer, you have a choice between making the incremental loan and earning your bonus or failing to make the loan and getting fired. If you are the bank president, you look at the balance sheet of your institution and the financial conditions generally, and then you decide whether it is prudent for your institution to take on the additional risk of the incremental loan. Even if the bank president is considering the aggregate amount of similar loans being made by all the lenders in the marketplace, his inclination will be to keep lending because failing to do so means foregoing the incremental profit.
But at some point the bank president becomes worried. He reads the economic statistics; he sees some leading indicators weaken; he recalls that he has authorized the consummation of some slightly aggressive loans (compensated, of course, by a correspondingly higher rate of interest); and he begins to wonder how his bank's loan portfolio might fare if conditions go south. And, of course, there is always some Cassandra predicting that the next crash or recession is just around the corner – from time to time one of them will be right.
If one bank president has cause to become worried, perhaps a dozen come to the same conclusion, and without coordinate action among them, but reacting to the same general indicators, their previous optimism becomes clouded over by prudence, and they scale back their incremental lending and stop rolling over their more worrisome credits. The fact that they are doing so inevitably becomes known, and the fact becomes an additional – and additionally persuasive – factor that other bank presidents and other market participants will weigh in the mix.
The foregoing discussion has spoken about "loans", but it could easily have focused on other assets. If one became persuaded that the stock market was exhibiting "irrational exuberance", one might be prudent to reduce one stock portfolio before the market tanked. If one became persuaded that housing prices were overstated, one might unload one's portfolio of collateralized mortgage obligations before the default rate spiked and exceed the rate assumed when the instruments were originally sold. In either case, the selling itself becomes an economic fact of which others will take note and contribute to the tipping of greed into fear.
Greed and fear are, of course, the primary economic motivators. They are selfish motivators that focus primarily upon one's own profit and one's own safety. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with this since we expect our commercial institutions to be profitable and we expect them to behave rationally to that end. There are always unintended or collateral consequences. Although Adam Smith's "invisible hand" may produce a greater overall benefit in many cases and under ordinary circumstances, it does not do so in every case and certainly not in emergency situations. When conditions start to go bad, those who act first to protect themselves are most likely to suffer the least injury, although their precipitous actions may result in injury to others.
In a perfect world we would be able to eliminate panics and market disturbances by preventing the aggregate debt in any part of the national or the world economy from becoming excessive, by curbing "irrational exuberance" before it becomes irrational or exuberant and by preventing supply and demand from pushing the market price of assets in excess of their "real" value – whatever that may be. Based upon what we know, what we believe and what we reasonably can foresee, nothing like this is ever going to happen.
Since we have not been able to achieve the impossible, we have tried alternative approaches. One such is to require institutions to become more robust and therefore capable of withstanding the consequences of the market's folly by restricting the institution from certain lines of business that are considered too risky and imposing requirements and limitations on how its business operates. The judgment is that of a governmental regulator and not of the institution's manager so the limits will not be tailored to the needs of the institution's business and will probably be contrary to the institution's profit interest. Moreover, insofar as making the institution sufficiently robust to withstand the next economic crisis, the institution's vulnerability to the effects of that crisis will depend upon the nature of the crisis. If the institution's portfolio is not heavily exposed to the assets that are being hammered in the crisis, it is less likely to be at risk. I don't see where a regulator has a better chance of making that call correctly than does a manager.
In 1857 the traditions and ideas about the duties of government left regulation of banks to the states, and even there the hand of government rested lightly. Government has grown to be more intrusive, but that does not mean that it has become more effective, and I am fearful – when I hear government officials speak about institutions that are too big to fail and too big to jail – that much of the actions taken by the government are window dressings, intended largely to persuade the public that it has the problem is well in hand.
Monday, July 6, 2015
Humor as Social Commentary
Quality, value, style, service, selection, convenience,
Economy, savings, performance, experience, hospitality,
Low rates, friendly service, name brands, easy terms,
Affordable prices, money-back guarantee.
George Carlin - “Advertising”
I recently listened to a George Carlin monologue called “Advertising” on YouTube. The first two minutes of the nine minute piece consisted of a litany of advertising buzzwords and phrases. Typical of George Carlin, the monologue flipped to social commentary with language that is unsuitable for a family audience.
George Carlin was a national treasure, holding up to ridicule things that he found stupid and ugly, but he was only one of a number of people who have risen to prominence using humor as their medium and, in the process, delivered sharp social commentary. They appear and appeared on television and radio, on the vaudeville stage and in the pages of newspapers across the decades, adapting to the changing communications media to reach their audiences. Will Rogers performed on the stage and in the movies, wrote a newspaper column and spoke on the radio. Fanny Brice was a headliner as a comedienne in the Ziegfeld Follies.
Barbra Streisand played Fanny Brice in the movie “Funny Girl”. In the movie, Florence Ziegfeld (played by Walter Pidgeon) required Miss Brice to sing a number about being a beautiful bride in the Follies’ finale that featured a lot of showgirls in bridal attire. Miss Brice acquiesced (she was no beauty) and started the song on opening night, costumed in a wedding gown, but she turned sideways after few bars into the number and appeared in profile as if she was enormously pregnant.
The line of noted American humorists and comedians, as near as I can determine, stretches back to the Civil War, but apparently not before. This is not to say that humor did not exist in America before the Civil War, only that no writer or entertainer well known to history appears to have made humor the mainstay of his work. Mark Twain, regarded as the quintessential American humorist, did not begin his work until after the war. David Ross Locke, writing as Petroleum V. Nasby, portrayed himself as a Democrat and Copperhead during the war. Robert Henry Newell, writing as a would be politician named Orpheus C. Kerr [office seeker], also started writing during the war. Most humor is not enduring, and very few of those who enjoyed prominence for their humor in their day, like Mr. Locke and Mr. Newell, are well remembered by history but not the general public.
The pre-Civil War writers who were known for their humor are not well known today. The writers who remain well known used humor as an element in their work rather than as its principal thrust. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick has its humorous passages and episodes. Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote a story entitled “The Celestial Railway”, which was a parody of The Pilgrim’s Progress in which the railroad circumvents all the obstacles awaiting the pilgrim who travels on foot – the Slough of Despond and the Valley of the Shadow of Death – only to deposit the passenger in Hell. Fanny Fern is not well known today, but was popular for her wit, as illustrated by the following sample, entitled “A Gentle Hint”:
Artemus Ward visited with the Shakers, the Mormons, the advocates of free love, those who communicated with the spirits of the dead, the opera singer Adelina Patti, the Prince of Wales and the proponents of women’s rights. As related in a piece entitled “Ossawatomie Brown”, Artemus Ward told of seeing a play in New York City based upon the actions of John Brown and described the show's finale as follows:
This shift in the choice of language occurred also in a piece that was written during the secession crisis in which Artemus Ward addressed his neighbors in Indiana about the causes of the crisis. The background is a bit convoluted in that it pulls together some diverse and ugly threads. In 1859 Charles Darwin’s The Origin of Species was published in Britain, and the next year it was published in the United States where it raised scientific and religious interest and controversy. In 1860, Phineas T. Barnum, who operated a “museum” in New York City with authentic and doubtful curiosities, opened a new attraction called the "What Is It". It featured a diminutive dark skinned man-like creature purportedly captured in Central Africa. One of the New York newspapers said that the "What Is It" might be “the link supposed by philosophers to exist between the human race and the brutes.”
Indeed, in addressing the secession crisis, Artemus Ward stated,
The dramatic situation of the encounter is intrinsically demeaning, but it is also clear that the "What Is It" gets the better of it. As a result of interview, however, given the predominant racial attitudes in the United States in 1860, held both north and south, the conclusion that Artemus Ward drew about race relations in the United States generally is quite subversive.
It is impossible to say whether the use of the term “Etheopian” in the place of the vulgar word reflected either a social judgment or an artistic choice. As noted above, the vulgar word appeared often in the newspapers of the day, indicating that it was accepted as a part of common speech. The author’s election not to use it in the reprint of the Oberlin piece and in the original crisis piece moderates, if only slightly, the overtly pejorative impact of the dramatic situation. Most Americans in 1860 were aware that the term was at least vulgar, and I would assume that the author thought that his readers were white.
Shortly after the secession crisis ripened into war, another letter from Artemus Ward told of his adventures in the Confederacy and his brief encounter with a Negro. The original version used the vulgar term, and it was not altered when reprinted in book form in 1862, suggesting a deliberate decision to use and then retain it – it is the only use of the term that I found in the book. Unlike the interview with the "What Is it", the dramatic situation is not intrinsically demeaning, and unlike either the Oberlin piece or the crisis piece, the setting is in the deep south. In addition, while the "What Is It" got the upper hand in the exchange with Artemus Ward in the crisis piece, the Negro speaker in this piece is permitted a particularly sharp reply that was addressed to the whites of the nation as a whole. Whatever the reasons behind the choice, the encounter with Artemus Ward goes as follows:
Economy, savings, performance, experience, hospitality,
Low rates, friendly service, name brands, easy terms,
Affordable prices, money-back guarantee.
George Carlin - “Advertising”
I recently listened to a George Carlin monologue called “Advertising” on YouTube. The first two minutes of the nine minute piece consisted of a litany of advertising buzzwords and phrases. Typical of George Carlin, the monologue flipped to social commentary with language that is unsuitable for a family audience.
George Carlin was a national treasure, holding up to ridicule things that he found stupid and ugly, but he was only one of a number of people who have risen to prominence using humor as their medium and, in the process, delivered sharp social commentary. They appear and appeared on television and radio, on the vaudeville stage and in the pages of newspapers across the decades, adapting to the changing communications media to reach their audiences. Will Rogers performed on the stage and in the movies, wrote a newspaper column and spoke on the radio. Fanny Brice was a headliner as a comedienne in the Ziegfeld Follies.
Barbra Streisand played Fanny Brice in the movie “Funny Girl”. In the movie, Florence Ziegfeld (played by Walter Pidgeon) required Miss Brice to sing a number about being a beautiful bride in the Follies’ finale that featured a lot of showgirls in bridal attire. Miss Brice acquiesced (she was no beauty) and started the song on opening night, costumed in a wedding gown, but she turned sideways after few bars into the number and appeared in profile as if she was enormously pregnant.
The line of noted American humorists and comedians, as near as I can determine, stretches back to the Civil War, but apparently not before. This is not to say that humor did not exist in America before the Civil War, only that no writer or entertainer well known to history appears to have made humor the mainstay of his work. Mark Twain, regarded as the quintessential American humorist, did not begin his work until after the war. David Ross Locke, writing as Petroleum V. Nasby, portrayed himself as a Democrat and Copperhead during the war. Robert Henry Newell, writing as a would be politician named Orpheus C. Kerr [office seeker], also started writing during the war. Most humor is not enduring, and very few of those who enjoyed prominence for their humor in their day, like Mr. Locke and Mr. Newell, are well remembered by history but not the general public.
The pre-Civil War writers who were known for their humor are not well known today. The writers who remain well known used humor as an element in their work rather than as its principal thrust. Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick has its humorous passages and episodes. Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote a story entitled “The Celestial Railway”, which was a parody of The Pilgrim’s Progress in which the railroad circumvents all the obstacles awaiting the pilgrim who travels on foot – the Slough of Despond and the Valley of the Shadow of Death – only to deposit the passenger in Hell. Fanny Fern is not well known today, but was popular for her wit, as illustrated by the following sample, entitled “A Gentle Hint”:
In most of the New York shop windows, one reads: “Here we speak French;” “Here we speak Spanish;” “Here we speak German;” “Here we speak Italian.” I suggest an improvement -- “Here we speak the Truth."Somewhat more in the nature of George Carlin, however, was Charles Farrar Browne who wrote in the fictional persona of Artemus Ward, a low rent and semi-literate version of the already famous showman Phineas T. Barnum. Artemus Ward hailed from Indiana (as George Carlin remarked in “Advertising”, “Void where prohibited by law, except in Indiana”), and he made his first appearances in 1858 while Mr. Browne was working for the Cleveland Plain Dealer. As a result of the newspaper exchange that permitted newspapers to be sent free through the mails to other newspapers, his items were picked up and reprinted in newspapers and periodicals.
Artemus Ward visited with the Shakers, the Mormons, the advocates of free love, those who communicated with the spirits of the dead, the opera singer Adelina Patti, the Prince of Wales and the proponents of women’s rights. As related in a piece entitled “Ossawatomie Brown”, Artemus Ward told of seeing a play in New York City based upon the actions of John Brown and described the show's finale as follows:
Kansis to Harper’s Ferry. Picter of a Arsenal is represented. Soljers cum & fire at it. Old Brown comes out & permits hisself to be shot. He is tride by soops in milingtery close, and sentenced to be hung on the gallus. Tabloo -- Old Brown on a platform, pintin upards, the staige lited up with red fire. Goddis of Liberty also on platform, pintin upards. A dutchman in the orkestry warbles on a base drum. Curtin falls. Moosic of the Band.His commentary on visiting Oberlin College, notorious at the time for admitting Negro students, was the first Artemus Ward letter to be widely reprinted. It used a derogatory version of the word Negro, but the newspapers of the day did not hesitate to print the word in that context and many others. When an expanded version of the piece was reprinted in book form in 1862, the word “Ethiopian” was substituted.
This shift in the choice of language occurred also in a piece that was written during the secession crisis in which Artemus Ward addressed his neighbors in Indiana about the causes of the crisis. The background is a bit convoluted in that it pulls together some diverse and ugly threads. In 1859 Charles Darwin’s The Origin of Species was published in Britain, and the next year it was published in the United States where it raised scientific and religious interest and controversy. In 1860, Phineas T. Barnum, who operated a “museum” in New York City with authentic and doubtful curiosities, opened a new attraction called the "What Is It". It featured a diminutive dark skinned man-like creature purportedly captured in Central Africa. One of the New York newspapers said that the "What Is It" might be “the link supposed by philosophers to exist between the human race and the brutes.”
Indeed, in addressing the secession crisis, Artemus Ward stated,
The origernal cawz in Our Afrikan Brother. I was into Barnum’s Moozeum down to New York the other day & saw that exsentric Etheopian, the What Is It. Sez I, “Mister What Is It, you folks air raisin thunder with this grate country. You’re gettin to be ruther more numeris than interestin. It is a pity you coodent go orf sumwhares by yourselves, & be a nation of What Is Its ….The "What Is It" laughed in his face. That got Artemus Ward hot under the collar, but his angry speech brought the same reaction. In reflecting upon the crisis afterward more coolly, Artemus Ward concluded that the Negro “wooden’t be sich a infernal noosanse if white peple would let him alone.”
The dramatic situation of the encounter is intrinsically demeaning, but it is also clear that the "What Is It" gets the better of it. As a result of interview, however, given the predominant racial attitudes in the United States in 1860, held both north and south, the conclusion that Artemus Ward drew about race relations in the United States generally is quite subversive.
It is impossible to say whether the use of the term “Etheopian” in the place of the vulgar word reflected either a social judgment or an artistic choice. As noted above, the vulgar word appeared often in the newspapers of the day, indicating that it was accepted as a part of common speech. The author’s election not to use it in the reprint of the Oberlin piece and in the original crisis piece moderates, if only slightly, the overtly pejorative impact of the dramatic situation. Most Americans in 1860 were aware that the term was at least vulgar, and I would assume that the author thought that his readers were white.
Shortly after the secession crisis ripened into war, another letter from Artemus Ward told of his adventures in the Confederacy and his brief encounter with a Negro. The original version used the vulgar term, and it was not altered when reprinted in book form in 1862, suggesting a deliberate decision to use and then retain it – it is the only use of the term that I found in the book. Unlike the interview with the "What Is it", the dramatic situation is not intrinsically demeaning, and unlike either the Oberlin piece or the crisis piece, the setting is in the deep south. In addition, while the "What Is It" got the upper hand in the exchange with Artemus Ward in the crisis piece, the Negro speaker in this piece is permitted a particularly sharp reply that was addressed to the whites of the nation as a whole. Whatever the reasons behind the choice, the encounter with Artemus Ward goes as follows:
I saw a [Negro] sittin on a fence a-playin on a banjo. “My African Brother,” sed I, coting from a Track I onct red, “you belong to a very interesting race. Your masters is going to war excloosively on your account.”
“Yes, boss,” he replied, “an’ I wish ‘em honorable graves!” and he went on playin the banjo, larfin all over and openin his mouth wide enuff to drive in an old-fashion 2 wheeled chaise.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Discussing War and Radical Peace
"If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud."
Arlo Guthrie "Alice's Restaurant"
One of the pleasures of living in Wilmington, Delaware is participating in the book discussion group that is sponsored by the Wilmington Library Institute. The program is celebrating its twentieth anniversary. The usual moderator during that time has been Thomas Leitch, a professor in the English Department at the University of Delaware.
Tom is one of the world’s great talkers, and it is always fun to listen to him – even if one has not read the book and so has only the slightest idea of what it is about (which I confess to having done on numerous occasions).
Since the group meets on weekdays at noon, it is not always convenient for me to get away from the office to attend. The discussion this summer focuses on World War I, so I am making a point both to read the books in advance and to attend the discussion.
The first book in the series was Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August. Published in 1962 and awarded the Pulitzer Prize for general non-fiction in 1963, The Guns of August recounts the events of August 1914 in which the major continental powers of Europe mobilized their massive armies and launched them into a war that was larger and more terrible than any in memory to that time.
One common characteristic about the participants in the group is that they are on the older side. I am no spring chicken, but my participation does tend to reduce the average age. We were all younger during the Vietnam War, and many share a certain viscerally negative reaction to all things military and related to war.
I remember from the Vietnam War days a story made the rounds about a World War II commander who sought permission from the Pentagon to destroy the papers filling several drawers of a filing cabinet. The response from Washington – granting permission to destroy the documents after making copies in triplicate – was regarded, at the time I first heard about it, as evidence of the intrinsic wastefulness and folly of military culture. Only years later did I realize that the response from Washington was a joke and a very clever one at that.
With such a group it is necessary to go through a catechism of sorts in order to get to a substantive discussion about military matters, even from a historical perspective.
But, history has shown, and current experience confirms,
In 1860 America had little fear of a foreign war. The nation occupied a broad swathe across the continent. Its contiguous neighbors north and south were non-threatening, and wide oceans separated it from the other potentially hostile powers of the world. Steam navigation had much reduced the size of the globe, but the breadth of the oceans represented a substantial impediment to the logistical support of the army of the size that would be needed to fight on American soil.
America’s army consisted of about 16,000 officers and men (the post office department was larger), most of whom were stationed west of the Mississippi River to prevent violence between the Indian tribes and the white settlers who coveted western lands. The army had suppressed the violence between pro- and anti-slavery advocates who vied for control of the Kansas Territory. The army also was present in the Utah Territory to assure the continued peaceable behavior of the Mormon settlers there who defied the authority of the Federal government. The Mormons had attacked and destroyed the army’s supply column, which both embarrassed and inconvenienced the contingent sent to pacify the Mormons. After a harsh winter on short rations, only careful negotiations averted retaliation.
America also had a radical peace movement whose adherents opposed war and believed that the use of violence was not justified under any circumstances, including defending oneself from attack, even from pirates. Inasmuch as violence was necessary to maintain slavery, those who held radical views concerning peace also tended to oppose slavery.
The events of 1859 through 1861 illuminated the growing incompatibility of the anti-war position with the anti-slavery position. These events included the John Brown raid in 1859; the election of 1860 with the repeated admonition that the election of a Republican president was cause for secession; and the secession crisis of the winter of 1860-1861.
Even as the war was starting, the leadership of the American Peace Society anguished over the facts at their annual meeting in Boston in May 1861, after the firing on Fort Sumter. The support for the American Peace Society was diminishing throughout the period. For the year ended May 1859, just before the John Brown raid, contributions to the Society totaled about $4600. In the year ended May 1861, concluding just after the firing on Fort Sumter, contributions had fallen to a little over one third of that amount.
Arlo Guthrie "Alice's Restaurant"
One of the pleasures of living in Wilmington, Delaware is participating in the book discussion group that is sponsored by the Wilmington Library Institute. The program is celebrating its twentieth anniversary. The usual moderator during that time has been Thomas Leitch, a professor in the English Department at the University of Delaware.
Tom is one of the world’s great talkers, and it is always fun to listen to him – even if one has not read the book and so has only the slightest idea of what it is about (which I confess to having done on numerous occasions).
Since the group meets on weekdays at noon, it is not always convenient for me to get away from the office to attend. The discussion this summer focuses on World War I, so I am making a point both to read the books in advance and to attend the discussion.
The first book in the series was Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August. Published in 1962 and awarded the Pulitzer Prize for general non-fiction in 1963, The Guns of August recounts the events of August 1914 in which the major continental powers of Europe mobilized their massive armies and launched them into a war that was larger and more terrible than any in memory to that time.
One common characteristic about the participants in the group is that they are on the older side. I am no spring chicken, but my participation does tend to reduce the average age. We were all younger during the Vietnam War, and many share a certain viscerally negative reaction to all things military and related to war.
I remember from the Vietnam War days a story made the rounds about a World War II commander who sought permission from the Pentagon to destroy the papers filling several drawers of a filing cabinet. The response from Washington – granting permission to destroy the documents after making copies in triplicate – was regarded, at the time I first heard about it, as evidence of the intrinsic wastefulness and folly of military culture. Only years later did I realize that the response from Washington was a joke and a very clever one at that.
With such a group it is necessary to go through a catechism of sorts in order to get to a substantive discussion about military matters, even from a historical perspective.
- Yes, I agree that war is an obscenely criminal waste of life and resources that could be put to better and more productive uses.
- Yes, the existence of armies makes war more likely in the sense that to a man with a hammer everything looks like a nail (if you ignore the deterrent effect).
- Yes, the officer corps in the military are eager for wars because they provide occasions to distinguish themselves and earn professional advancement – not the least of which is combat certification (but few want to fight a losing or unpopular war).
- Yes, the military command structure and the culture of the chain of command foster blind obedience at the expense of independence of thought and action (although a shared doctrine and analytical approach can foster coordination among the disparate elements of a vast organization like an army, and although the chain of command emphasizes the location of responsibility and obligation, it does not intrinsically stifle flexibility and creativity).
But, history has shown, and current experience confirms,
- that wars will continue to occur,
- that the preparation for war is the best deterrent of war,
- that the eagerness to avoid war can encourage bullies to become more aggressive,
- that the professional military officers are best suited by training and experience to direct the operation of the military organization on the missions identified by the civilian government, and
- that although victories are also costly and tragic, and although war can have unforeseen consequences, some good can come from them – such as American independence, the forced abdication of Napoleon and the resulting restoration of peace in Europe, the preservation of the American union, the end of American slavery, and the termination of the Nazi regime.
In 1860 America had little fear of a foreign war. The nation occupied a broad swathe across the continent. Its contiguous neighbors north and south were non-threatening, and wide oceans separated it from the other potentially hostile powers of the world. Steam navigation had much reduced the size of the globe, but the breadth of the oceans represented a substantial impediment to the logistical support of the army of the size that would be needed to fight on American soil.
America’s army consisted of about 16,000 officers and men (the post office department was larger), most of whom were stationed west of the Mississippi River to prevent violence between the Indian tribes and the white settlers who coveted western lands. The army had suppressed the violence between pro- and anti-slavery advocates who vied for control of the Kansas Territory. The army also was present in the Utah Territory to assure the continued peaceable behavior of the Mormon settlers there who defied the authority of the Federal government. The Mormons had attacked and destroyed the army’s supply column, which both embarrassed and inconvenienced the contingent sent to pacify the Mormons. After a harsh winter on short rations, only careful negotiations averted retaliation.
America also had a radical peace movement whose adherents opposed war and believed that the use of violence was not justified under any circumstances, including defending oneself from attack, even from pirates. Inasmuch as violence was necessary to maintain slavery, those who held radical views concerning peace also tended to oppose slavery.
The events of 1859 through 1861 illuminated the growing incompatibility of the anti-war position with the anti-slavery position. These events included the John Brown raid in 1859; the election of 1860 with the repeated admonition that the election of a Republican president was cause for secession; and the secession crisis of the winter of 1860-1861.
Even as the war was starting, the leadership of the American Peace Society anguished over the facts at their annual meeting in Boston in May 1861, after the firing on Fort Sumter. The support for the American Peace Society was diminishing throughout the period. For the year ended May 1859, just before the John Brown raid, contributions to the Society totaled about $4600. In the year ended May 1861, concluding just after the firing on Fort Sumter, contributions had fallen to a little over one third of that amount.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Boogie Music, and the right comprehension, and the right application thereof
We must make Boogie Music the essential factor in the life's law. In presenting this song to the world, we must then explain and justify our prediction by formulating a definition of Boogie Music and setting forth its main principles in such a way that all may understand instantly that their souls, their lives, and every relation with every other human being in every circumstance depends on Boogie Music, and the right comprehension, and the right application thereof.
– Canned Heat, Boogie Music (closing recitation)
Some philosophies are more useful than others.
Several years ago, on an intellectual self-dare, I labored through the dense and closely reasoned prose of the first chapter of a book on the philosophy of history, which reached the conclusion that it is possible to make factually correct statements about the past. I remain to this day blissfully ignorant of the words of wisdom contained in the balance of that volume.
I consider it a given that it is possible to make factually correct statements about the past. Beyond honoring the facts and allowing them to lead to the conclusions, I do not tend to be doctrinaire in my approach to history. A historical narrative is a story, and there are usually multiple ways to tell any story.
I do have several strong prejudices about assessing the facts and truth. One is to prefer actions and interests, rather than words, as a source of truth. Actions and events are the constituents of truth. The things people say may contain elements of truth, but people often speak to persuade, which undercuts the absolute trust that one can put in the veracity of the statements made. Yet at the same time, that a person uttered certain words is itself an event that one can accept as true even if one does not accept the truth of the words spoken.
Another is that correlation does not indicate causation. The occurrence of one event right after another, without more, does not necessarily establish a causal connection between them. On the other hand, I am equally suspicious of the claims that a single cause alone produced a significantly large result – "for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost" is a fallacy. The flight of a butterfly may originate or contribute to the hurricane, but it is not the sole cause.
Finally, I believe in context. My understanding of past events is enriched by my knowledge of the world in which they occurred – the prevailing attitudes and customs, the technologies people used, and the beliefs that guided their actions. Part of my responsibility as I write about those events is to share enough of that knowledge so that my readers can share my understanding.
– Canned Heat, Boogie Music (closing recitation)
Some philosophies are more useful than others.
Several years ago, on an intellectual self-dare, I labored through the dense and closely reasoned prose of the first chapter of a book on the philosophy of history, which reached the conclusion that it is possible to make factually correct statements about the past. I remain to this day blissfully ignorant of the words of wisdom contained in the balance of that volume.
I consider it a given that it is possible to make factually correct statements about the past. Beyond honoring the facts and allowing them to lead to the conclusions, I do not tend to be doctrinaire in my approach to history. A historical narrative is a story, and there are usually multiple ways to tell any story.
I do have several strong prejudices about assessing the facts and truth. One is to prefer actions and interests, rather than words, as a source of truth. Actions and events are the constituents of truth. The things people say may contain elements of truth, but people often speak to persuade, which undercuts the absolute trust that one can put in the veracity of the statements made. Yet at the same time, that a person uttered certain words is itself an event that one can accept as true even if one does not accept the truth of the words spoken.
Another is that correlation does not indicate causation. The occurrence of one event right after another, without more, does not necessarily establish a causal connection between them. On the other hand, I am equally suspicious of the claims that a single cause alone produced a significantly large result – "for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost" is a fallacy. The flight of a butterfly may originate or contribute to the hurricane, but it is not the sole cause.
Finally, I believe in context. My understanding of past events is enriched by my knowledge of the world in which they occurred – the prevailing attitudes and customs, the technologies people used, and the beliefs that guided their actions. Part of my responsibility as I write about those events is to share enough of that knowledge so that my readers can share my understanding.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Sense in the City
Major Strasser: Are you one of those people who cannot imagine the Germans in their beloved Paris?
Rick: It's not particularly my beloved Paris.
Heinz: Can you imagine us in London?
Rick: When you get there, ask me!
Captain Renault: Hmmh! Diplomatist!
Major Strasser: How about New York?
Rick: Well there are certain sections of New York, Major, that I wouldn't advise you to try to invade.
Rick: It's not particularly my beloved Paris.
Heinz: Can you imagine us in London?
Rick: When you get there, ask me!
Captain Renault: Hmmh! Diplomatist!
Major Strasser: How about New York?
Rick: Well there are certain sections of New York, Major, that I wouldn't advise you to try to invade.
Casablanca (1942)
The 1859 edition of Phelps’ Strangers and Citizens’ Guide to New York City offered sage words of advice to visitors in the metropolis. First, as to places of amusement, the Guide noted that “there are some places where the morals of strangers or citizens will not be particularly improved by visiting, so say nothing of the bodily danger one incurs, especially in the evening and unattended.” It also noted that “Pickpockets are found among crowds around the doors of places of amusement, in railroad cars, and omnibuses, who are very expert at their calling, and appear like gentlemen.” It also warned against the purchase of brass watches that were represented as gold.
On a less cautionary note, the Guide observed that hotels were numerous and easily found with rates running from seven to sixteen dollars per week. Eating-houses were plentiful as well with charges starting at six cents. “In some of these houses good lodging-rooms can be had for three dollars per week.” However, it went on to warn that “At some of the cheap (often dear) lodging-houses where gilt or illuminated signs, “Lodging 12½ cents,” are conspicuous, a person might not be safer than in the Astor House. A little caution here may not be amiss.”
The Guide noted that omnibuses ran constantly in almost every part of the city south of Fiftieth Street and charged a fare of six cents. City railroads ran along the avenues (north-south), and charged five cents.
Travel by hackney coaches and cabs was dearer. A ride not exceeding one mile cost 50 cents and not exceeding two miles cost 75 cents plus, in each case, 37½ cents for each additional passenger. A cab ride to 40th Street, remaining half an hour and returning cost $1.50; to 61st street, remaining three quarter of an hour and returning cost $2.00; and to 86th street, remaining one hour and returning cost $2.50. For the price of $5.00 one could travel to Harlem, High Bridge (at the Harlem River and 173rd Street, 11 miles from City Hall) or King’s Bridge (230th Street), remain three hours and return or one could use the coach for a full day.
In 1861 New York City licensed 760 cabs and hackney coaches. One English visitor to the United States in the mid-1850s described dealings with hackney coaches as follows:
The 1859 edition of Phelps’ Strangers and Citizens’ Guide to New York City offered sage words of advice to visitors in the metropolis. First, as to places of amusement, the Guide noted that “there are some places where the morals of strangers or citizens will not be particularly improved by visiting, so say nothing of the bodily danger one incurs, especially in the evening and unattended.” It also noted that “Pickpockets are found among crowds around the doors of places of amusement, in railroad cars, and omnibuses, who are very expert at their calling, and appear like gentlemen.” It also warned against the purchase of brass watches that were represented as gold.
On a less cautionary note, the Guide observed that hotels were numerous and easily found with rates running from seven to sixteen dollars per week. Eating-houses were plentiful as well with charges starting at six cents. “In some of these houses good lodging-rooms can be had for three dollars per week.” However, it went on to warn that “At some of the cheap (often dear) lodging-houses where gilt or illuminated signs, “Lodging 12½ cents,” are conspicuous, a person might not be safer than in the Astor House. A little caution here may not be amiss.”
The Guide noted that omnibuses ran constantly in almost every part of the city south of Fiftieth Street and charged a fare of six cents. City railroads ran along the avenues (north-south), and charged five cents.
Travel by hackney coaches and cabs was dearer. A ride not exceeding one mile cost 50 cents and not exceeding two miles cost 75 cents plus, in each case, 37½ cents for each additional passenger. A cab ride to 40th Street, remaining half an hour and returning cost $1.50; to 61st street, remaining three quarter of an hour and returning cost $2.00; and to 86th street, remaining one hour and returning cost $2.50. For the price of $5.00 one could travel to Harlem, High Bridge (at the Harlem River and 173rd Street, 11 miles from City Hall) or King’s Bridge (230th Street), remain three hours and return or one could use the coach for a full day.
In 1861 New York City licensed 760 cabs and hackney coaches. One English visitor to the United States in the mid-1850s described dealings with hackney coaches as follows:
The hackney-carriages of New York are very handsome, and, being drawn by two horses, have the appearance of private equipages; but woe to the stranger who trusts to the inviting announcement that the fare is a dollar within a certain circle. Bad as London cabmen are, one would welcome the sight of one of them. The New York hackmen are licensed plunderers, against whose extortions there is neither remedy nor appeal. They are generally Irish, and cheat people with unblushing audacity.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Cotton and Foreign Policy
In 1860, the states that would secede and form the Confederacy had a near monopoly on the world's supply of raw cotton fiber – they produced about 80 percent of the world's cotton, and raw cotton represented roughly 50 percent of the value of goods and produce exported from the United States.
At the same time, Britain was the world's largest producer of cotton cloth and cotton goods, making it the largest consumer of cotton fiber, followed by France.
In these facts lie the origin of the Confederates' "King Cotton Diplomacy", the undeclared Confederate program to use their control of the cotton supply to extort the powers of Europe into recognizing the Confederacy's independence. By withholding their cotton, the Confederates expected to create a cotton famine in Britain and France, that would shut cotton mills, put thousands of millworkers out of work and created an internal economic crisis that the powers would attempt to solve by using diplomatic or military means to intervene in the Civil War and restore their supply of cotton.
Although the Civil War was perceived at the cause of a cotton famine in Europe, a curious twist is that a bumper crop in 1860 along with the developing political disturbance in the United States resulting from the presidential election had caused cotton mills to buy larger than usual supplies of raw cotton. At the same time, overproduction had produced excess inventories of cloth and finished cotton goods that had sated world demand – mills started to shut down since it did not make economic sense to produce more goods when large inventories of just such goods remained on hand. These conditions were in the process of creating severe economic dislocations in Europe's cotton industries when the Civil War started in April 1861, by which time the 1860 cotton crop had been sold, and the 1861 crop had just been planted and would not be harvested until the fall.
The Federals imposed a naval blockade that was difficult to enforce at first because the Federal Navy lacked the ships for the job, but the Federals quickly increased the size of their fleets from dozens to hundreds of vessels. Little cotton came out of the Confederacy due not so much to the Federal blockade but principally because the stocks remained were withheld from the international market.
Notwithstanding the gap between actual and perceived causes, the King Cotton Diplomacy came close to succeeding. In the second half of 1862 France indicated her willingness to join with Britain to intervene in the Civil War in America, nominally for humanitarian reasons but undoubtedly for reasons of domestic and international self-interest. In late 1861, Britain, France and Spain invaded Mexico for the purpose of forcing the republican government under Benito Juarez to repay Mexico's international debts, which were in arrears. When it emerged that France had an ulterior motive of replacing Mexico's republican government with a monarchy, Britain and Spain withdrew.
France maintained an active military presence in Mexico throughout the Civil War. In 1823, President James Monroe had declared that the United States would regard as a hostile act the attempt of any European power to reassert its authority over any territory in the Americas. With the United States divided by a civil war, it was restrained from interfering with France's adventure in Mexico. Moreover, If the Confederates sustained their claim of independence, and the former United States was permanently divided in two, neither resulting nation would possess the potential power of the prior undivided whole. If Confederate independence was obtained with the aid, even nominal, of France, the Confederacy as the immediate northern neighbor of Mexico, were less likely to be hostile to a French sponsored monarch in Mexico
The French proposal to intervene in the American Civil War was favored by some members of the British cabinet where it was discussed at length. In 1862 the Civil War had grown larger and bloodier with enormous battles of the Peninsular Campaign, Shiloh and Antietam. President Lincoln had issued the Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation. It was criticized in Britain – at best and correctly – as the offer of a corrupt bargain that proposed to end slavery but offered to relent if a quick peace was achieved and – at worst and not unreasonably – as an indication of Federal desperation that threatened to incite servile and racial warfare in the American south.
However well intentioned the stated humanitarian purpose of the intervention, the reality was that it might well lead to war with the Federals. Even if the result of an intervention was to relieve the cotton famine in Britain, the cost of such a war would far exceed the cost of feeding the poor and unemployed. In Britain the wisdom of doing nothing ultimately prevailed.
The Confederates sugar coated their diplomacy by only asking for recognition of their independence, probably because it seemed like very little to ask and, therefore, very easy to give. Britain had been very quick to recognize the Confederates as a belligerent power engaged in a war, but they refrained from a recognition of independence. The Federals had blustered about the former, but the British action was correct as a matter of international law as it existed at the time. Though an insurgency, the Confederacy appeared to be a viable proto-nation with the means of carrying on the war. Whether it would be successful in the war and achieve its independence remained to be seen.
The Federals threatened war against Britain if she recognized Confederate independence, and in this the Federals were correct – international law maintained that premature recognition of an insurgent's independence was a legitimate reason for war. The facts determined what was premature, and history provided examples. In 1832 the European powers recognized the independence of Greece from the Ottoman Empire in a treaty by which they committed to guarantee independence – although the Empire had not abandoned its effort to reestablish its dominion had not ceased, the willingness of the guarantors to use military force effectively put an end to the issue. Also during the nineteenth century, the powers of Europe recognized the independence of the former colonies of Spain in South America, Spain having for all practical purposes ceased to assert dominion.
(The Monroe Doctrine, published in 1823, was related to the latter situation. At the time, the United States had recognized the independence of the nations of South America, although she might have been premature in doing so – none of the other nations of the world had acted in kind. Indeed, certain nations in Europe proposed to discuss how the claims of Spain might be reasserted. Britain proposed to the United States that they join in opposing any such conference or attempt, although Britain refused to commit to join in recognizing independence. The Monroe Doctrine was a unilateral statement by the United States that it would regard as an unfriendly act any interference by a European power with the independence of a nation in the western hemisphere. It was a declaration of policy that was said to have enhanced the international reputation of the United States if only by showing that the United States did not feel the need to partner with Britain in the matter.)
What France proposed, and what Britain considered, was not in the first instance "recognition" but "intervention" – the neutral powers proposed to request the belligerent powers to agree to a ceasefire and to engage in mediation. Although the proposal had the appearance of neutral evenhandedness, it favored the Confederates – the Federals had to defeat the Confederates outright to win the Civil War, while the Confederates had only to hold on until the fighting stopped. A ceasefire stopped the fighting, and a mediation was unlikely to result in a total Confederate surrender. If the offer of ceasefire and mediation were refused, Britain and France proposed to recognize the Confederacy and act militarily to lift the Federal naval blockade of the Confederate coast. If mediation was attempted and the effort had failed, the ceasefire interval would have permitted to Confederates to rebuild their forces and prolong the war when it resumed. Neither outcome was acceptable to the Federals.
At the end of 1862, when Britain was considering the French proposal, the Federals remained committed to restoring the union, and the conditions then prevailing would have justified the Federals to declare war against them, although for them to have done so would have served the Confederates well.
Just as the Confederate's King Cotton diplomacy sugarcoated the request of recognition by appearing not to ask for military assistance, so also the intervention proposal sugarcoated the request by not appearing to give recognition. But under the circumstances, the intervention proposal was certain to fail and thereby beget recognition, and under the circumstances recognition was apt to beget war.
In the end, despite the almost irresistible to do something some politicians (and the public) feel in the face of the war or insurrection in another's country, the view prevailed in Britain's government that feeding their own unemployed – champagne and venison – would be cheaper than the cost of the threatened war.
At the same time, Britain was the world's largest producer of cotton cloth and cotton goods, making it the largest consumer of cotton fiber, followed by France.
In these facts lie the origin of the Confederates' "King Cotton Diplomacy", the undeclared Confederate program to use their control of the cotton supply to extort the powers of Europe into recognizing the Confederacy's independence. By withholding their cotton, the Confederates expected to create a cotton famine in Britain and France, that would shut cotton mills, put thousands of millworkers out of work and created an internal economic crisis that the powers would attempt to solve by using diplomatic or military means to intervene in the Civil War and restore their supply of cotton.
Although the Civil War was perceived at the cause of a cotton famine in Europe, a curious twist is that a bumper crop in 1860 along with the developing political disturbance in the United States resulting from the presidential election had caused cotton mills to buy larger than usual supplies of raw cotton. At the same time, overproduction had produced excess inventories of cloth and finished cotton goods that had sated world demand – mills started to shut down since it did not make economic sense to produce more goods when large inventories of just such goods remained on hand. These conditions were in the process of creating severe economic dislocations in Europe's cotton industries when the Civil War started in April 1861, by which time the 1860 cotton crop had been sold, and the 1861 crop had just been planted and would not be harvested until the fall.
The Federals imposed a naval blockade that was difficult to enforce at first because the Federal Navy lacked the ships for the job, but the Federals quickly increased the size of their fleets from dozens to hundreds of vessels. Little cotton came out of the Confederacy due not so much to the Federal blockade but principally because the stocks remained were withheld from the international market.
Notwithstanding the gap between actual and perceived causes, the King Cotton Diplomacy came close to succeeding. In the second half of 1862 France indicated her willingness to join with Britain to intervene in the Civil War in America, nominally for humanitarian reasons but undoubtedly for reasons of domestic and international self-interest. In late 1861, Britain, France and Spain invaded Mexico for the purpose of forcing the republican government under Benito Juarez to repay Mexico's international debts, which were in arrears. When it emerged that France had an ulterior motive of replacing Mexico's republican government with a monarchy, Britain and Spain withdrew.
France maintained an active military presence in Mexico throughout the Civil War. In 1823, President James Monroe had declared that the United States would regard as a hostile act the attempt of any European power to reassert its authority over any territory in the Americas. With the United States divided by a civil war, it was restrained from interfering with France's adventure in Mexico. Moreover, If the Confederates sustained their claim of independence, and the former United States was permanently divided in two, neither resulting nation would possess the potential power of the prior undivided whole. If Confederate independence was obtained with the aid, even nominal, of France, the Confederacy as the immediate northern neighbor of Mexico, were less likely to be hostile to a French sponsored monarch in Mexico
The French proposal to intervene in the American Civil War was favored by some members of the British cabinet where it was discussed at length. In 1862 the Civil War had grown larger and bloodier with enormous battles of the Peninsular Campaign, Shiloh and Antietam. President Lincoln had issued the Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation. It was criticized in Britain – at best and correctly – as the offer of a corrupt bargain that proposed to end slavery but offered to relent if a quick peace was achieved and – at worst and not unreasonably – as an indication of Federal desperation that threatened to incite servile and racial warfare in the American south.
However well intentioned the stated humanitarian purpose of the intervention, the reality was that it might well lead to war with the Federals. Even if the result of an intervention was to relieve the cotton famine in Britain, the cost of such a war would far exceed the cost of feeding the poor and unemployed. In Britain the wisdom of doing nothing ultimately prevailed.
The Confederates sugar coated their diplomacy by only asking for recognition of their independence, probably because it seemed like very little to ask and, therefore, very easy to give. Britain had been very quick to recognize the Confederates as a belligerent power engaged in a war, but they refrained from a recognition of independence. The Federals had blustered about the former, but the British action was correct as a matter of international law as it existed at the time. Though an insurgency, the Confederacy appeared to be a viable proto-nation with the means of carrying on the war. Whether it would be successful in the war and achieve its independence remained to be seen.
The Federals threatened war against Britain if she recognized Confederate independence, and in this the Federals were correct – international law maintained that premature recognition of an insurgent's independence was a legitimate reason for war. The facts determined what was premature, and history provided examples. In 1832 the European powers recognized the independence of Greece from the Ottoman Empire in a treaty by which they committed to guarantee independence – although the Empire had not abandoned its effort to reestablish its dominion had not ceased, the willingness of the guarantors to use military force effectively put an end to the issue. Also during the nineteenth century, the powers of Europe recognized the independence of the former colonies of Spain in South America, Spain having for all practical purposes ceased to assert dominion.
(The Monroe Doctrine, published in 1823, was related to the latter situation. At the time, the United States had recognized the independence of the nations of South America, although she might have been premature in doing so – none of the other nations of the world had acted in kind. Indeed, certain nations in Europe proposed to discuss how the claims of Spain might be reasserted. Britain proposed to the United States that they join in opposing any such conference or attempt, although Britain refused to commit to join in recognizing independence. The Monroe Doctrine was a unilateral statement by the United States that it would regard as an unfriendly act any interference by a European power with the independence of a nation in the western hemisphere. It was a declaration of policy that was said to have enhanced the international reputation of the United States if only by showing that the United States did not feel the need to partner with Britain in the matter.)
What France proposed, and what Britain considered, was not in the first instance "recognition" but "intervention" – the neutral powers proposed to request the belligerent powers to agree to a ceasefire and to engage in mediation. Although the proposal had the appearance of neutral evenhandedness, it favored the Confederates – the Federals had to defeat the Confederates outright to win the Civil War, while the Confederates had only to hold on until the fighting stopped. A ceasefire stopped the fighting, and a mediation was unlikely to result in a total Confederate surrender. If the offer of ceasefire and mediation were refused, Britain and France proposed to recognize the Confederacy and act militarily to lift the Federal naval blockade of the Confederate coast. If mediation was attempted and the effort had failed, the ceasefire interval would have permitted to Confederates to rebuild their forces and prolong the war when it resumed. Neither outcome was acceptable to the Federals.
At the end of 1862, when Britain was considering the French proposal, the Federals remained committed to restoring the union, and the conditions then prevailing would have justified the Federals to declare war against them, although for them to have done so would have served the Confederates well.
Just as the Confederate's King Cotton diplomacy sugarcoated the request of recognition by appearing not to ask for military assistance, so also the intervention proposal sugarcoated the request by not appearing to give recognition. But under the circumstances, the intervention proposal was certain to fail and thereby beget recognition, and under the circumstances recognition was apt to beget war.
In the end, despite the almost irresistible to do something some politicians (and the public) feel in the face of the war or insurrection in another's country, the view prevailed in Britain's government that feeding their own unemployed – champagne and venison – would be cheaper than the cost of the threatened war.
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