Democracy In America, Volume 1 (of 2)

A >> Alexis de Toqueville >> Democracy In America, Volume 1 (of 2)


I am aware that, notwithstanding my care, nothing will be easier than
to criticise this book, if anyone ever chooses to criticise it. Those
readers who may examine it closely will discover the fundamental idea
which connects the several parts together. But the diversity of the
subjects I have had to treat is exceedingly great, and it will not be
difficult to oppose an isolated fact to the body of facts which I quote,
or an isolated idea to the body of ideas I put forth. I hope to be read
in the spirit which has guided my labors, and that my book may be judged
by the general impression it leaves, as I have formed my own judgment
not on any single reason, but upon the mass of evidence. It must not be
forgotten that the author who wishes to be understood is obliged to push
all his ideas to their utmost theoretical consequences, and often to
the verge of what is false or impracticable; for if it be necessary
sometimes to quit the rules of logic in active life, such is not the
case in discourse, and a man finds that almost as many difficulties
spring from inconsistency of language as usually arise from
inconsistency of conduct.

I conclude by pointing out myself what many readers will consider
the principal defect of the work. This book is written to favor no
particular views, and in composing it I have entertained no designs
of serving or attacking any party; I have undertaken not to see
differently, but to look further than parties, and whilst they are
busied for the morrow I have turned my thoughts to the Future.




Chapter I: Exterior Form Of North America

Chapter Summary

North America divided into two vast regions, one inclining towards the
Pole, the other towards the Equator--Valley of the Mississippi--Traces
of the Revolutions of the Globe--Shore of the Atlantic Ocean where the
English Colonies were founded--Difference in the appearance of North
and of South America at the time of their Discovery--Forests of
North America--Prairies--Wandering Tribes of Natives--Their outward
appearance, manners, and language--Traces of an unknown people.

Exterior Form Of North America


North America presents in its external form certain general features
which it is easy to discriminate at the first glance. A sort of
methodical order seems to have regulated the separation of land and
water, mountains and valleys. A simple, but grand, arrangement is
discoverable amidst the confusion of objects and the prodigious variety
of scenes. This continent is divided, almost equally, into two vast
regions, one of which is bounded on the north by the Arctic Pole, and
by the two great oceans on the east and west. It stretches towards the
south, forming a triangle whose irregular sides meet at length below
the great lakes of Canada. The second region begins where the other
terminates, and includes all the remainder of the continent. The one
slopes gently towards the Pole, the other towards the Equator.

The territory comprehended in the first region descends towards the
north with so imperceptible a slope that it may almost be said to form
a level plain. Within the bounds of this immense tract of country there
are neither high mountains nor deep valleys. Streams meander through it
irregularly: great rivers mix their currents, separate and meet again,
disperse and form vast marshes, losing all trace of their channels
in the labyrinth of waters they have themselves created; and thus, at
length, after innumerable windings, fall into the Polar Seas. The great
lakes which bound this first region are not walled in, like most of
those in the Old World, between hills and rocks. Their banks are flat,
and rise but a few feet above the level of their waters; each of them
thus forming a vast bowl filled to the brim. The slightest change in the
structure of the globe would cause their waters to rush either towards
the Pole or to the tropical sea.

The second region is more varied on its surface, and better suited for
the habitation of man. Two long chains of mountains divide it from one
extreme to the other; the Alleghany ridge takes the form of the shores
of the Atlantic Ocean; the other is parallel with the Pacific. The space
which lies between these two chains of mountains contains 1,341,649
square miles. *a Its surface is therefore about six times as great as
that of France. This vast territory, however, forms a single valley,
one side of which descends gradually from the rounded summits of the
Alleghanies, while the other rises in an uninterrupted course towards
the tops of the Rocky Mountains. At the bottom of the valley flows an
immense river, into which the various streams issuing from the mountains
fall from all parts. In memory of their native land, the French formerly
called this river the St. Louis. The Indians, in their pompous language,
have named it the Father of Waters, or the Mississippi.

[Footnote a: Darby's "View of the United States."]

The Mississippi takes its source above the limit of the two great
regions of which I have spoken, not far from the highest point of the
table-land where they unite. Near the same spot rises another river, *b
which empties itself into the Polar seas. The course of the Mississippi
is at first dubious: it winds several times towards the north, from
whence it rose; and at length, after having been delayed in lakes and
marshes, it flows slowly onwards to the south. Sometimes quietly gliding
along the argillaceous bed which nature has assigned to it, sometimes
swollen by storms, the Mississippi waters 2,500 miles in its course.
*c At the distance of 1,364 miles from its mouth this river attains an
average depth of fifteen feet; and it is navigated by vessels of
300 tons burden for a course of nearly 500 miles. Fifty-seven large
navigable rivers contribute to swell the waters of the Mississippi;
amongst others, the Missouri, which traverses a space of 2,500 miles;
the Arkansas of 1,300 miles, the Red River 1,000 miles, four whose
course is from 800 to 1,000 miles in length, viz., the Illinois, the
St. Peter's, the St. Francis, and the Moingona; besides a countless
multitude of rivulets which unite from all parts their tributary
streams.

[Footnote b: The Red River.]

[Footnote c: Warden's "Description of the United States."]

The valley which is watered by the Mississippi seems formed to be the
bed of this mighty river, which, like a god of antiquity, dispenses both
good and evil in its course. On the shores of the stream nature displays
an inexhaustible fertility; in proportion as you recede from its banks,
the powers of vegetation languish, the soil becomes poor, and the plants
that survive have a sickly growth. Nowhere have the great convulsions
of the globe left more evident traces than in the valley of the
Mississippi; the whole aspect of the country shows the powerful effects
of water, both by its fertility and by its barrenness. The waters of
the primeval ocean accumulated enormous beds of vegetable mould in the
valley, which they levelled as they retired. Upon the right shore of the
river are seen immense plains, as smooth as if the husbandman had
passed over them with his roller. As you approach the mountains the soil
becomes more and more unequal and sterile; the ground is, as it were,
pierced in a thousand places by primitive rocks, which appear like the
bones of a skeleton whose flesh is partly consumed. The surface of the
earth is covered with a granite sand and huge irregular masses of stone,
among which a few plants force their growth, and give the appearance of
a green field covered with the ruins of a vast edifice. These stones and
this sand discover, on examination, a perfect analogy with those which
compose the arid and broken summits of the Rocky Mountains. The flood
of waters which washed the soil to the bottom of the valley afterwards
carried away portions of the rocks themselves; and these, dashed and
bruised against the neighboring cliffs, were left scattered like wrecks
at their feet. *d The valley of the Mississippi is, upon the whole, the
most magnificent dwelling-place prepared by God for man's abode; and yet
it may be said that at present it is but a mighty desert.

[Footnote d: See Appendix, A.]


On the eastern side of the Alleghanies, between the base of these
mountains and the Atlantic Ocean, there lies a long ridge of rocks and
sand, which the sea appears to have left behind as it retired. The mean
breadth of this territory does not exceed one hundred miles; but it is
about nine hundred miles in length. This part of the American continent
has a soil which offers every obstacle to the husbandman, and its
vegetation is scanty and unvaried.

Upon this inhospitable coast the first united efforts of human industry
were made. The tongue of arid land was the cradle of those English
colonies which were destined one day to become the United States of
America. The centre of power still remains here; whilst in the backwoods
the true elements of the great people to whom the future control of the
continent belongs are gathering almost in secrecy together.

When the Europeans first landed on the shores of the West Indies,
and afterwards on the coast of South America, they thought themselves
transported into those fabulous regions of which poets had sung. The sea
sparkled with phosphoric light, and the extraordinary transparency of
its waters discovered to the view of the navigator all that had hitherto
been hidden in the deep abyss. *e Here and there appeared little islands
perfumed with odoriferous plants, and resembling baskets of flowers
floating on the tranquil surface of the ocean. Every object which met
the sight, in this enchanting region, seemed prepared to satisfy the
wants or contribute to the pleasures of man. Almost all the trees were
loaded with nourishing fruits, and those which were useless as food
delighted the eye by the brilliancy and variety of their colors. In
groves of fragrant lemon-trees, wild figs, flowering myrtles, acacias,
and oleanders, which were hung with festoons of various climbing plants,
covered with flowers, a multitude of birds unknown in Europe displayed
their bright plumage, glittering with purple and azure, and mingled
their warbling with the harmony of a world teeming with life and motion.
*f Underneath this brilliant exterior death was concealed. But the air
of these climates had so enervating an influence that man, absorbed by
present enjoyment, was rendered regardless of the future.

[Footnote e: Malte Brun tells us (vol. v. p. 726) that the water of the
Caribbean Sea is so transparent that corals and fish are discernible at
a depth of sixty fathoms. The ship seemed to float in air, the navigator
became giddy as his eye penetrated through the crystal flood, and beheld
submarine gardens, or beds of shells, or gilded fishes gliding among
tufts and thickets of seaweed.]

[Footnote f: See Appendix, B.]

North America appeared under a very different aspect; there everything
was grave, serious, and solemn: it seemed created to be the domain of
intelligence, as the South was that of sensual delight. A turbulent and
foggy ocean washed its shores. It was girt round by a belt of granite
rocks, or by wide tracts of sand. The foliage of its woods was dark and
gloomy, for they were composed of firs, larches, evergreen oaks, wild
olive-trees, and laurels. Beyond this outer belt lay the thick shades
of the central forest, where the largest trees which are produced in
the two hemispheres grow side by side. The plane, the catalpa, the
sugar-maple, and the Virginian poplar mingled their branches with those
of the oak, the beech, and the lime. In these, as in the forests of the
Old World, destruction was perpetually going on. The ruins of vegetation
were heaped upon each other; but there was no laboring hand to remove
them, and their decay was not rapid enough to make room for the
continual work of reproduction. Climbing plants, grasses, and other
herbs forced their way through the mass of dying trees; they crept along
their bending trunks, found nourishment in their dusty cavities, and
a passage beneath the lifeless bark. Thus decay gave its assistance to
life, and their respective productions were mingled together. The depths
of these forests were gloomy and obscure, and a thousand rivulets,
undirected in their course by human industry, preserved in them a
constant moisture. It was rare to meet with flowers, wild fruits, or
birds beneath their shades. The fall of a tree overthrown by age,
the rushing torrent of a cataract, the lowing of the buffalo, and the
howling of the wind were the only sounds which broke the silence of
nature.

To the east of the great river, the woods almost disappeared; in their
stead were seen prairies of immense extent. Whether Nature in her
infinite variety had denied the germs of trees to these fertile plains,
or whether they had once been covered with forests, subsequently
destroyed by the hand of man, is a question which neither tradition nor
scientific research has been able to resolve.

These immense deserts were not, however, devoid of human inhabitants.
Some wandering tribes had been for ages scattered among the forest
shades or the green pastures of the prairie. From the mouth of the St.
Lawrence to the delta of the Mississippi, and from the Atlantic to the
Pacific Ocean, these savages possessed certain points of resemblance
which bore witness of their common origin; but at the same time they
differed from all other known races of men: *g they were neither white
like the Europeans, nor yellow like most of the Asiatics, nor black like
the negroes. Their skin was reddish brown, their hair long and shining,
their lips thin, and their cheekbones very prominent. The languages
spoken by the North American tribes are various as far as regarded their
words, but they were subject to the same grammatical rules. These rules
differed in several points from such as had been observed to govern the
origin of language. The idiom of the Americans seemed to be the product
of new combinations, and bespoke an effort of the understanding of which
the Indians of our days would be incapable. *h

[Footnote g: With the progress of discovery some resemblance has been
found to exist between the physical conformation, the language, and
the habits of the Indians of North America, and those of the Tongous,
Mantchous, Mongols, Tartars, and other wandering tribes of Asia. The
land occupied by these tribes is not very distant from Behring's Strait,
which allows of the supposition, that at a remote period they gave
inhabitants to the desert continent of America. But this is a point
which has not yet been clearly elucidated by science. See Malte Brun,
vol. v.; the works of Humboldt; Fischer, "Conjecture sur l'Origine des
Americains"; Adair, "History of the American Indians."]

[Footnote h: See Appendix, C.]

The social state of these tribes differed also in many respects from all
that was seen in the Old World. They seemed to have multiplied freely
in the midst of their deserts without coming in contact with other races
more civilized than their own. Accordingly, they exhibited none of those
indistinct, incoherent notions of right and wrong, none of that deep
corruption of manners, which is usually joined with ignorance and
rudeness among nations which, after advancing to civilization, have
relapsed into a state of barbarism. The Indian was indebted to no one
but himself; his virtues, his vices, and his prejudices were his own
work; he had grown up in the wild independence of his nature.

If, in polished countries, the lowest of the people are rude and
uncivil, it is not merely because they are poor and ignorant, but that,
being so, they are in daily contact with rich and enlightened men.
The sight of their own hard lot and of their weakness, which is
daily contrasted with the happiness and power of some of their
fellow-creatures, excites in their hearts at the same time the
sentiments of anger and of fear: the consciousness of their inferiority
and of their dependence irritates while it humiliates them. This state
of mind displays itself in their manners and language; they are at once
insolent and servile. The truth of this is easily proved by observation;
the people are more rude in aristocratic countries than elsewhere, in
opulent cities than in rural districts. In those places where the rich
and powerful are assembled together the weak and the indigent feel
themselves oppressed by their inferior condition. Unable to perceive a
single chance of regaining their equality, they give up to despair, and
allow themselves to fall below the dignity of human nature.

This unfortunate effect of the disparity of conditions is not observable
in savage life: the Indians, although they are ignorant and poor, are
equal and free. At the period when Europeans first came among them
the natives of North America were ignorant of the value of riches, and
indifferent to the enjoyments which civilized man procures to himself
by their means. Nevertheless there was nothing coarse in their
demeanor; they practised an habitual reserve and a kind of aristocratic
politeness. Mild and hospitable when at peace, though merciless in
war beyond any known degree of human ferocity, the Indian would expose
himself to die of hunger in order to succor the stranger who asked
admittance by night at the door of his hut; yet he could tear in pieces
with his hands the still quivering limbs of his prisoner. The famous
republics of antiquity never gave examples of more unshaken courage,
more haughty spirits, or more intractable love of independence than were
hidden in former times among the wild forests of the New World. *i The
Europeans produced no great impression when they landed upon the shores
of North America; their presence engendered neither envy nor fear. What
influence could they possess over such men as we have described? The
Indian could live without wants, suffer without complaint, and pour out
his death-song at the stake. *j Like all the other members of the great
human family, these savages believed in the existence of a better world,
and adored under different names, God, the creator of the universe.
Their notions on the great intellectual truths were in general simple
and philosophical. *k

[Footnote i: We learn from President Jefferson's "Notes upon Virginia,"
p. 148, that among the Iroquois, when attacked by a superior force, aged
men refused to fly or to survive the destruction of their country; and
they braved death like the ancient Romans when their capital was sacked
by the Gauls. Further on, p. 150, he tells us that there is no example
of an Indian who, having fallen into the hands of his enemies, begged
for his life; on the contrary, the captive sought to obtain death at the
hands of his conquerors by the use of insult and provocation.]

[Footnote j: See "Histoire de la Louisiane," by Lepage Dupratz;
Charlevoix, "Histoire de la Nouvelle France"; "Lettres du Rev. G.
Hecwelder;" "Transactions of the American Philosophical Society," v. I;
Jefferson's "Notes on Virginia," pp. 135-190. What is said by Jefferson
is of especial weight, on account of the personal merit of the writer,
of his peculiar position, and of the matter-of-fact age in which he
lived.]

[Footnote k: See Appendix, D.]

Although we have here traced the character of a primitive people, yet it
cannot be doubted that another people, more civilized and more advanced
in all respects, had preceded it in the same regions.

An obscure tradition which prevailed among the Indians to the north of
the Atlantic informs us that these very tribes formerly dwelt on
the west side of the Mississippi. Along the banks of the Ohio, and
throughout the central valley, there are frequently found, at this day,
tumuli raised by the hands of men. On exploring these heaps of earth to
their centre, it is usual to meet with human bones, strange instruments,
arms and utensils of all kinds, made of metal, or destined for purposes
unknown to the present race. The Indians of our time are unable to give
any information relative to the history of this unknown people. Neither
did those who lived three hundred years ago, when America was first
discovered, leave any accounts from which even an hypothesis could be
formed. Tradition--that perishable, yet ever renewed monument of the
pristine world--throws no light upon the subject. It is an undoubted
fact, however, that in this part of the globe thousands of our
fellow-beings had lived. When they came hither, what was their origin,
their destiny, their history, and how they perished, no one can tell.
How strange does it appear that nations have existed, and afterwards so
completely disappeared from the earth that the remembrance of their very
names is effaced; their languages are lost; their glory is vanished like
a sound without an echo; though perhaps there is not one which has not
left behind it some tomb in memory of its passage! The most durable
monument of human labor is that which recalls the wretchedness and
nothingness of man.

Although the vast country which we have been describing was inhabited
by many indigenous tribes, it may justly be said at the time of its
discovery by Europeans to have formed one great desert. The Indians
occupied without possessing it. It is by agricultural labor that man
appropriates the soil, and the early inhabitants of North America
lived by the produce of the chase. Their implacable prejudices, their
uncontrolled passions, their vices, and still more perhaps their savage
virtues, consigned them to inevitable destruction. The ruin of these
nations began from the day when Europeans landed on their shores; it has
proceeded ever since, and we are now witnessing the completion of it.
They seem to have been placed by Providence amidst the riches of the New
World to enjoy them for a season, and then surrender them. Those coasts,
so admirably adapted for commerce and industry; those wide and deep
rivers; that inexhaustible valley of the Mississippi; the whole
continent, in short, seemed prepared to be the abode of a great nation,
yet unborn.

In that land the great experiment was to be made, by civilized man, of
the attempt to construct society upon a new basis; and it was there, for
the first time, that theories hitherto unknown, or deemed impracticable,
were to exhibit a spectacle for which the world had not been prepared by
the history of the past.


Chapter II: Origin Of The Anglo-Americans--Part I

Chapter Summary

Utility of knowing the origin of nations in order to understand their
social condition and their laws--America the only country in which the
starting-point of a great people has been clearly observable--In what
respects all who emigrated to British America were similar--In what they
differed--Remark applicable to all Europeans who established themselves
on the shores of the New World--Colonization of Virginia--Colonization
of New England--Original character of the first inhabitants of New
England--Their arrival--Their first laws--Their social contract--Penal
code borrowed from the Hebrew legislation--Religious fervor--Republican
spirit--Intimate union of the spirit of religion with the spirit of
liberty.

Origin Of The Anglo-Americans, And Its Importance In Relation To Their
Future Condition.

After the birth of a human being his early years are obscurely spent in
the toils or pleasures of childhood. As he grows up the world receives
him, when his manhood begins, and he enters into contact with his
fellows. He is then studied for the first time, and it is imagined
that the germ of the vices and the virtues of his maturer years is then
formed. This, if I am not mistaken, is a great error. We must begin
higher up; we must watch the infant in its mother's arms; we must see
the first images which the external world casts upon the dark mirror
of his mind; the first occurrences which he witnesses; we must hear the
first words which awaken the sleeping powers of thought, and stand by
his earliest efforts, if we would understand the prejudices, the habits,
and the passions which will rule his life. The entire man is, so to
speak, to be seen in the cradle of the child.

The growth of nations presents something analogous to this: they all
bear some marks of their origin; and the circumstances which accompanied
their birth and contributed to their rise affect the whole term of their
being. If we were able to go back to the elements of states, and to
examine the oldest monuments of their history, I doubt not that we
should discover the primal cause of the prejudices, the habits, the
ruling passions, and, in short, of all that constitutes what is called
the national character; we should then find the explanation of certain
customs which now seem at variance with the prevailing manners; of such
laws as conflict with established principles; and of such incoherent
opinions as are here and there to be met with in society, like those
fragments of broken chains which we sometimes see hanging from the vault
of an edifice, and supporting nothing. This might explain the destinies
of certain nations, which seem borne on by an unknown force to ends of
which they themselves are ignorant. But hitherto facts have been wanting
to researches of this kind: the spirit of inquiry has only come upon
communities in their latter days; and when they at length contemplated
their origin, time had already obscured it, or ignorance and pride
adorned it with truth-concealing fables.