Empire for Liberty: America in the Long Nineteenth Century

[volksmarschall]

II. ANDREW JACKSON AND THE RISE OF DEMOCRATIC NATIONALISM


The Texas Revolution and the Rise of Pan-American Nationalism​

The improbable story of the Texan Revolution is often memorialized by the famous battles that occurred in it, as well as a story of impossible odds being overcome by Texan troops against the more seasoned Mexican forces led by Santa Anna, the “Napoleon of the West.” While this is all true, and shouldn’t be excluded from such histories over the Texas War of Independence, the revolution in Texas had profound impacts on the transformation—or solidification—of American identity in the nineteenth century.

As hitherto stated, many of the Texan revolutionaries were native-born Americans. Heroes like James Bowie, Davy Crockett, Sam Houston, Stephen F. Austin (also a descendent of the Puritans), Mirabeau Lamar and William Travis were all Americans. Many of the revolutionaries themselves were Americans, although there were many Tejanos, Mexican-Texans who joined with the Americans in revolution against a tyrannical overlord. Additionally, many of the volunteers who crossed into Mexico illegally when fighting broke out were Americans coming to aid their fellow Americans in their fight for liberty. There was constant pressure upon Andrew Jackson to help “our fellow American brethren” in their fight for liberty and democracy. Immediately visible are two transformative ideas in the formation of early American identity. First, those who are fighting for liberty were always associated with a democratic spirit, and therefore natural friends to the United States. Second, although many of these “Americans” had left the United States for another country, they were still viewed as forthright Americans. America was a nation without borders. Wherever Americans were, that is where America also was. The lobbying for intervention on behalf of the “American” (rather than Texan) brethren in Texas was a key step in the formation of a Pan-American nationalism that made possible the view that wherever Americans were, America also was.

Left, David "Davy" Crockett. Right, James "Jim" Bowie. Both were American frontiersmen icons and heroes. Both ventured to Texas to fight in the Texas Revolution. Both died at the Alamo and became immortalized for all generations. James Bowie was also famous for his knife, "Bowie's Knife," which later became the "Bowie Knife" in reference to any large blade of disproptionate size.​

The history of the Texas Revolution was one of remarkable drama, not in the least because of the actuality of the events—along with the rich mythology crafted by Texans and Americans alike. In many regards, the Texas Revolution is American history; integral to it in fact. Initial Texan success in late 1835 was not otherwise impressive; the Mexicans had yet to mobilize their full forces and strike back. But these early successes did sway thousands of Americans in southern and frontier states to join the fight. In Washington, the aging Andrew Jackson was committed to a policy of non-confrontation with Mexico—at least in principle.

Jackson would often pace about in 1836, eager to hear news of the events transpiring in Texas—not in the least since he had several friends, Sam Houston most prominent, among the patriot cause. America could not, at least in Jackson’s mind, directly intervene lest they be drawn into a war with Mexico. Furthermore, direct American intervention may be a double-edged sword. As Jackson understood it, “The Texians are fighting for their liberty, and their country; they seek to be independent, not part of the United States.” To some degree, Jackson was correct. While many of the Texan revolutionaries were Americans, there were also Tejanos who sought an independent Texas free of Mexico but equally free of America, and they were also supported by Texan nationalists, most of whom were convicts and lawbreakers who fled America to Texas to escape justice; for them, an independent Texas meant freedom from American jail cells. Texas, as it were, was a land of new beginning.

Jackson had the long game in view. He calculated that even if Texas would win their fight for independence, someday Texas would inevitably become part of the United States. Texas would not be able to maintain its own independence, and the large population of native-born Americans would inevitably seek union with the country of their birth. But Jackson also didn’t want to come into direct conflict with Mexico over Texas. “Let the natural course of history take its place,” Jackson told his aides.

For their part, the Texans were not expecting American intervention to help them. They knew, rightly, it was their fight and their fight alone. The Mexican president and general Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna crossed into Texas with 27,000 soldiers; 15,000 under his command forded the Rio Grande and marched toward San Antonio. A second force of 12,000 men forded further to the west and marched to prevent any retreat into the Texas countryside. The plan was simple, to force the Texan army—now under the command of Sam Houston—into a box whereby superior Mexican numbers would obliterate the Texan hope for victory.

General Sam Houston giving orders to his men at the Battle of the Rio Guadalupe River (to be covered at the end of this post). Sam Houston would become a famous figure and celebrity as a result of his actions during the Texas Revolution. Houston earned suspicion from Mexican officials when he was known to be commander of the Texan Army because he was a close friend a political ally to Andrew Jackson. Many suspected that the waves of American settlers initially granted entry into Texas was a Jacksonian plot to take Texas from Mexico. Houston's elevation to commandant of the Texan army confirmed such beliefs.​

While Houston sought to centralize the some 9,000 fighters scattered throughout Texas, this proved difficult. Most of the Texan units were independent fighting attachments, many of them loyal to their colonels or captains explicitly. Whatever they said, the men obeyed. Wherever they wanted to go, the men followed. When Santa Anna crossed the Rio Grande, he was confronted by Frank Johnson’s company of men, no more than 100. Antonio Miramón, one of Santa Anna’s primary subordinates, was stunned to see such a small force blocking the advance of his 3,000 men. The “affair” was nothing more than a few scattered shots before Mexican cavalry broke the Texan ranks. Almost all the men, including Johnson, were captured; about a dozen men had managed to escape. Only four Mexican soldiers were killed, and between 10-20 wounded.

Santa Anna pressed inland, determined to cut off the small bands of Texan militias that had been unable to coalesce around Houston’s central command. On February 23, 1836, Colonel James Fannin’s battalion, numbering between 400-500 men, caught Miramón by surprise and inflict an unimportant defeat on the Mexican forces. Fannin, unwilling to chase after the retreating Mexicans, detailed his notes to his wife:

Dear Minerva…on the twenty-third of February, we happened upon the Mexicans in a prairie field southeast [of San Antonio]. It was a wicked splendor to behold…the boys got their dander up and couldn’t refrain from the attack. Smoke suddenly filled the skies, the shrieks of men dying rung about with a roar of thunder. Then, as soon as it begun, it had ended. The Mexicans were not expecting us, and quickly took flight like cowering dogs running for safety.

I am writing to let you know, that I am now moving north. I’ve received word that our brothers occupying the old Spanish Mission in San Antonio are calling for help. Without knowledge of Houston’s whereabouts, I have endeavored to help our fellow patriots in all my capacity.

This would be Fannin’s last letter to his wife, to whom he had two daughters. As Mexican forces surrounded the infamous Alamo, Fannin’s troops that were called up as reinforcements were ambushed the night before the fateful assault on the Alamo, which also saw the deaths of American heroes James Bowie and Davy Crockett (a former congressman). The massacre of Fannin’s troops and the defeat at the Alamo, along with minor fighting, had depleted around 1,000 of Houston’s potential fighters. While Mexican casualties were exceedingly high too, with around 500 Mexicans killed at the Battle of the Prairies described by Fannin, another 500-600 at the storming of the Alamo, and around another 500 in minor engagements and ambushes, the Mexican army under Santa Anna was large and potent.

On this, I would like to say that while the legend of the Alamo looms large in Texas history, and indeed is an iconic story of American history too (as I’ve said, much of the Texas Revolution has become seen as part of American history), the importance of the Alamo was minor in the long run. While news of the “massacres” certainly invoked new emotion and life into the dispirited Texan army under Houston, the strategic importance of the Alamo campaign, culminating in its capture and the destruction of the largest independent fighting unit not part of Houston’s command (Fannin’s battalion), was of little consequence for the future outcome of the Texas War for Independence. While some Texan-centric historians like to claim that by holding up Santa Anna for several days at the Alamo, Travis, Bowie, Crocket and company bought Houston important time to organize the Texan army, the opposite is true. Houston was already on the move, and it would have been better suited for the near 800 soldiers under Travis and Fannin to coalesce around Houston rather than be picked off in independent fighting.

A depiction of the Battle of the Alamo. Colonel William Travis can be seen at the far right. In reality, he was among the earliest defenders to be killed during the assault on the Spanish Mission. The battle became a rallying cry for the revolution, and has since been mythologized in many books and television programs and films. Nevertheless, it has become iconic lore--not just for Texas, but also the United States.​

Houston, however, chose to take advantage of the separated Mexican forces. He wheeled his army west to attack the smaller of Santa Anna’s split forces: 12,000 men at Canyon Lake, along the Rio Guadalupe River, north of San Antonio. In fact, Houston’s mesmerizing victory at Canyon Lake occurred the day before the fall of the Alamo.

Houston, with knowledge of the Alamo’s predicament, but without the whereabouts of Fannin’s men, decided to stay on his westward heading to intercept the smaller Mexican army under Melchor Guerrero. This earned the ire of Houston’s men, to some degree. And even more-so after the news of the Alamo’s fall, despite his victory at Canyon Lake. For many of the men, the fact that they abandoned the Alamo and had won a victory was evidence enough that if Houston had turned south to aid the Alamo they would have saved their brethren there and defeated the larger—and more dangerous—Mexican force under Santa Anna’s command. Houston, to his credit, made the more strategic decision. And luckily for the Texans, he was general, not the more renegade officers who clamored for a brawl at the Alamo.

For the next month, a cat and mouse game was played between Houston and Santa Anna. Santa Anna, reveling in his triumph at the Alamo, learned of Houston’s whereabouts when he had heard the news of the battle at Canyon Lake. Guerrero, unwilling to report the defeat, informed Santa Anna of a stalemate—that he had prevented Houston from crossing the Rio Guadalupe. The truth was the opposite, nearly 5,000 of his men were scattered after the battle. Houston had lost far fewer, and possessed an integral fighting force.

Santa Anna was subsequently baited by the cautious Houston. On a plain near the future small township of Seguin, in DeWitt Colony, Houston allowed for Santa Anna to begin crossing the Rio Guadalupe River. Santa Anna crossed with three prongs, about 4,000 men in each wing. Taking his place with the men, Houston pounced upon Santa Anna’s divided army and scored another improbable victory. In just under an hour, the Texans routed Santa Anna’s colors from the field. Texan rebels had destroyed the bridges over the river at daybreak, so the retreating Mexicans were forced to cross by foot. Many drowned or were killed by the Texans firing at them from the river bank:

We put to flight the Mexicans in minutes. They seemed shocked to find us rushing their camp; those that remained at the embankments were slaughtered by hand and steel. Those who ran suffered far worse…

…when we pursued them to the Rio Guadalupe, they were at a loss. The bridges over the river had been destroyed, but this did not faze them. They leapt into the river in hope to swim to salvation. Those weighed down by their equipment screamed as they drowned, only to have their screams dashed with the gulping of water. Those who didn’t drown became bogged down in the current and sand, and became easy targets for the men on the river bank to shoot them at will. It was like a turkey shoot. Others tried to surrender on the banks of the river, most were killed without pity. I cut the throats of four Mexicans who tried to surrender to surrender to me, shot a fifth who tried to run. “Take no prisoners,” [Captain] Bennet told us, “Remember Fannin and remember the Alamo!” he shouted as he shot a Mexican officer with his sidearm.

Santa Anna himself was captured, and presented to Houston as a captive trophy of war. In a great reversal of fortunes, the Mexican offensive to quell the Texas rebellion had failed.[1] Houston, who was injured during the battle, returned to New Orleans where he was greeted as an American hero. As he asked, upon awakening one morning and the New Orleanites having heard of his exploits came out to greet him with music and celebration. News of the Texan victory reached the ears of Jackson, who then eyed the weakened Mexico.

A depiction of the "Battle of Seguin," or the "Rio Guadalupe Massacre." The Battle of Seguin is anachronistic, since the town was not yet constructed when the battle took place. For some time, it was simply known as the "Massacre at the River" or the Battle of the Rio Guadalupe. A later history book published in 1921 renamed it the Battle of Seguin after the nearby town, and has since been remembered as such. The battle was over as quickly as it began. The Mexican defeat prompted negotiations between Texas and Mexico, but the United States suddenly gained interest in the war following the stunning reversal of fortunes and the expulsion of the main Mexican expedition led by Santa Anna. Sam Houston becane a national hero and celebrity as a result of the battle.​

[1] I’ve synchronized the whole of the Texas Revolution to mirror the two actual “battles” fought by the AI. In both cases observed, Houston’s band of 9,000 soldiers had won both engagements, but paid a great cost for victory. Taking author’s license, I’ve bracketed these developments to correspond with the ongoing future gameplay developments from my end, which will be explained later. I hope you, as readers, will bear with me as this will become a common theme of my writing style—particularly when dealing with the war mechanics of Victoria. In many cases I will turn a single battle into a “campaign” of multiple battles, culminating in the grand finale of the actual “in-game battle” for the sake of keeping things historically realistic. For those following Decline and Fall, this is not much different from the style and alteration that you’re used to.

SUGGESTED READING:

H.W. Brands, Lone Star Nation: The Epic Story of the Battle for Texas Independence

Stephen Hardin, Texan Iliad: A Military History of the Texas Revolution

Walter Russell Mead, A Special Providence: American Foreign Policy and How it Changed the World​

 

[Specialist290]

Been slowly working my way through this AAR when I have the time to spare. I've always been fairly interested in antebellum America, and I'm greatly enjoying the format and your attention to detail, volksmarschall

 

[RossN]

Very nice work volksmarschall, and the 'battle' as an entire campaign is a very striking concept. I'll be following this one!

 

[Idhrendur]

That method of writing about battles makes sense given the Vic2 (or EU4, or CK2) mechanics. And it makes the telling more exciting, too.

Edit:

I would have to guess United Methodist then, otherwise some tradition of independent Baptist. Although technically we can say both came before, just rose to extreme prominence as a result of.

I spent my young years in a couple of independent Baptist churches, then have spent the last decade and a half in churches descended in various ways from the Holiness Movement, via the Pentecostal strain. So some of the more extreme claims about John Brown are to my mind at least in the realm of theological possibility.

Maybe it'll make you feel better than I have no qualms with loving John Brown!

Some of the stuff during Bleeding Kansas makes me rather uncomfortable, though I don't really see what choices you have when things get that lawless and violent. 'Twere bad times.

 

[volksmarschall]

Been slowly working my way through this AAR when I have the time to spare. I've always been fairly interested in antebellum America, and I'm greatly enjoying the format and your attention to detail, volksmarschall

Thanks Specialist, nice to know you're enjoying the content so far!

Very nice work volksmarschall, and the 'battle' as an entire campaign is a very striking concept. I'll be following this one!

It's more because I'm so, shall we say, "historical" (rather than another word that's probably a better description), that I just can't bring myself to use the in-game mechanic as a reflection of what actually happens when armies clash. Battles last for a month, too many people die. Just a handful of "battles" in a year... how unexciting for a write-up.

Nice to see you here RossN.

I spent my young years in a couple of independent Baptist churches, then have spent the last decade and a half in churches descended in various ways from the Holiness Movement, via the Pentecostal strain. So some of the more extreme claims about John Brown are to my mind at least in the realm of theological possibility.

You know, that's actually pretty ironic. The Holiness Movement actually grew out Methodism, whereas independent Baptist churches were generally some form of Calvinist or rebellious Presbyterian. Pre-1900 denominationalism was actually quite important for American Protestantism. Presbyterians jealously guarded their tradition, Methodists theirs, Congregationalists theirs, Episcopalians, theirs, etc. Following the rise of the Social Gospel Movement that's when you have all this crazy inflation and appropriation and combining of traditions into the mess of Protestantism today. Probably why so few, especially among the "Mainline" traditions aren't anything like they were just 100 years. Presbyterian Church USA, for instance, might still be "Presbyterian" in church structure, but hardly Calvinist in its theology anymore.

Then of course the Pentecostals emerge during the Azusa Street Revival and all that. While being criticized heavily by established churches, one of their greatest legacies was breaking racial barriers and segregation. You had intermingling of Whites, Blacks, Asians, and Americans, all together. But yeah, in some manner their "tradition", if you permit, comes from the Second Great Awakening. I do believe that legacy of intermixing is actually very strong today in church congregations(?) *Maybe not every single case, but in a lot of them.* It's funny that the Protestant Mainline talks about how diverse their churches are. They're all like 90%+ white and upper class. Meanwhile it's those darn low church Evangelicals, especially from Pentecostal traditions, that are truly diverse in composition. They've always been far more diverse than the churches that parade themselves as diverse, I tend to think it's because of their diversity in foundation. Of course, "diversity" really means something else than demographic composition, but I won't open that can of worms.

I could go on about the genealogies of American Protestantism, but I won't bore you with that!

Some of the stuff during Bleeding Kansas makes me rather uncomfortable, though I don't really see what choices you have when things get that lawless and violent. 'Twere bad times.

Well, he was hailed a hero in the north. Even back then. Soon enough, we'll get to the triggering of his event. And I'll finally get to talk about Ol' John Brown!

 

[volksmarschall]

PART II

THE IMPENDING CRISIS
America, 1837-1859

CHAPTER III: THE ORIGINS OF SECTIONALISM

Now therefore, if you will indeed obey My voice and keep My covenant, then you shall be a special treasure to Me above all people . . . Then all the people answered together and said, ‘All that the Lord has spoken we will do.

~ Exodus 19:5-8

Albion’s Seeds: The Legacy of the Puritans and Cavaliers in America
​

As we move into the era of “Sectionalism,” as is often recorded in history books concerning the two decades of Antebellum America before the Civil War, it would be insufficient to think that it was in the aftermath of the presidency of Andrew Jackson that this tension of sectionalism had emerged. As I’ve already mentioned previously, even the Era of Good Feelings contained within it a feeling of sectional differences between north and south. Here, I wish to look at the real origins of sectional tension in America. Namely, the four major waves of early colonial migration into America which produced four sharply different characters in American culture: New England Puritanism rooted in Puritan Calvinism, (northerly) Mid-Atlantic underclass utopians rooted in the Quakers and pietists, (southerly) Mid-Atlantic cavalierism rooted in Anglicanism and the defeated pro-monarchy parties of Charles I, and southern and frontier spirit of militant pioneers and exiles generally of a Scotch-Irish character and pluralistic in their religious composition (although the majority tended to be Presbyterian, with smaller numbers of Anglicans, and Methodists, and other dissenting Protestant groups).

This composition of early American character is often overlooked, but otherwise extremely important to understand because it is these clashing cultures that were formerly united in the American Revolution, brought to uneasy compromise thereafter, that will rear its head once more in the decades leading up to Civil War. These waves of colonization, or settlement, were instrumental in developing the sectional character of the United States. It should, I think, be obvious as to why. Not only were these four groups different religiously (although all generally Protestant), but also different in philosophy and views of science.

Cotton Mather, one of the more famous late period Puritans, was more than just a famous clergyman and judge at the Salem Witch Trials. He was a diplomat, political leader, revolutionary, and scientist. In Mather, one can see the fulfillment of New England Puritanism’s body and soul wrapped up in his six-foot frame. A man of principle, he was without the drive to advance himself and his ideas whenever the moment beckoned. While once caricatured as a typical Puritan at the Trials, most historians now view him as having been a moderating influence—not that that helped the four condemned as witches.

Mather’s embodiment of the Puritan ideal came about in the Boston Revolution of 1689. Governor Edmund Andros was the Anglican and pro-James II administrator of the “Dominion of New England,” which had come to supersede the Puritan Massachusetts Bay Colony. Mather, the liberty-loving Puritan that he was, seethed with anger at the domineering nature of the new crowned colony. With informants in London concerning the coming Glorious Revolution, Cotton Mather (with the help of his father Increase) began agitating animosity between the Puritan colonists against their “tyrannical” overlord Governor Andros.

On the morning of April 18, a “mob” of Puritans, including armed militia, descended upon the city of Boston and arrested Governor Andros and the commanding Royal navy officer John George. When requests for arrest warrants were asked, both men were met by sword and bayonet in a forced coup by any standard.​

Left, a painting depicting the Puritan landing in Massachusetts. Although the Pilgrims arrived first, the Puritans left a more visible and lasting legacy on early American culture and identity, with many scholars arguing that their legacy is still felt today on the whole in wider American culture and politics. Right, a depiction of the Boston Revolt and the arrest of Governor Andros, 86 years before the start of the American War of Independence, American colonists were already showing their displeasure toward imperial oversight from England.
​

This is important for the larger mentality of New England as a whole. The Puritans were revolutionaries, from their messianic mission to purify the Church of England of all things “Romish,” to the deposition of Governor Andros, to their scions being among the early leaders of the American Revolution, the Puritans commanded a high vision of what America was, or should be. Mather too, wrote about and embodied the notion of “ordering liberty of the covenant.” The covenant itself, a concept unique among the Puritans among those Protestants influenced by Calvinism, had a lasting impact not only of American psychology (Americans as the “New Israelites”), but also on the political contract of the Constitution come 1787 and 1788.

The Puritan Covenant of Liberty was explicitly modeled after the Israelite covenant with Yahweh at Mount Sinai in the Book of Exodus, and the laws contained therein and also those found in Deuteronomy. The Covenant was also something eternal, a binding contract so to speak. By signing into the Covenant, rather than onto, one was becoming a full-fledged member of the community and endowed with all the rights and liberties that come to full members of the community. The “Ordering Liberty” that emerged from this was that the democratically elected elders were permitted to enforce the contractual obligations signed into by members of the community. Liberty, in other words, was aimed at achieving order and stability within the community. Liberty was something ancient and deeply rooted, and also something inherited by every succeeding generation. One is granted rights and liberties, but one must, and must is the key word, exercise those rights and liberties for the good of the community as part of your contract in the Covenant.

In the summer of 1788, Rev. Samuel Langdon (also the former President of Harvard College) preached a sermon to his congregational church in Hampton Falls, New Hampshire. On the hot and balmy day, a sweating Langdon—as he pulled out his handkerchief to whip away his sweat—informed his congregation that the new Constitution of the United States was akin to the covenantal code and that it was the responsibility of the people to press for the ratification of the new Constitution as an eternal and binding covenant among all the people of the Americas. He proclaimed from the Book of Deuteronomy, “Behold I have taught you statutes and judgments…Keep therefore and do them…What nation is there so great that hath statutes and judgments so righteous as all this law?” (Deut. 4:5-8). He went on to say, “If I am not mistaken, instead of the twelve tribes of Israel we may substitute the thirteen States of the American Union.”

The Constitution was later ratified, and understood in this Puritan Covenant context by most northern Americans and Constitutional interpretations. Hence why secession was always deemed unconstitutional in this frame of mind. The “natural law” argument—of revolution—from Thomas Jefferson, and later John C. Calhoun, was explicitly anti-Puritan and did not have the same notion of eternal covenant that was signed into by the ratifying signatories of the Constitution. The Constitution also established the rules of liberty that would be enforced at all times.

What one should immediately recognize in this political theology is a tradition of “authoritarian liberty” as detractors might call it, or a more neutral term would be freedom to associate with the Covenant community. That is, by one’s freedom, one chooses to become a member of this covenant community and abide by the covenant contract, whereby one is granted all rights and liberties as enshrined by holy law. But by signing into this union—covenant—one must abide by that contract, lest one be exiled or forfeit their rights and liberties by coming into direct conflict with the community that had freely chosen to associate into unto death.[1]​

Left, Harvard College, sometime in the 1700s. One of the great legacies of the Puritans was their commitment to education. Harvard and Yale were founded by the Puritans. The Puritans also passed the first public education charter in American history. Education was deeply valued among the Puritans. Most Puritan ministers, for instance, were required to learn Hebrew, Latin, Greek, and German before being ordained. This left the tradition in American higher education of language requirements. They were extremely well-read. Cotton Mather, for instance, knew Arabic and read various Islamic and Arabic texts, and even spoke very positively about aspects of the Islamic faith. Right, a panting of the Mosaic Covenant at Mount Sinai. The Puritan Covenant Contract was explicitly modeled after the Mosaic Covenant. Many scholars maintain that this concept eventually found its way into arguments on how to understanding the Constitution and why "secession" was illegal--the covenant of the Constitution, being a secularized vision of the Puritan Covenant, which was a version of the Mosaic Covenant, was eternally binding once entered into.​

In sharp contradistinction to this dominant strand of muscular “instrumental activism,” on the part of the Puritan North, the second most important strand of ante-sectional attitudes emerged in the mid seventeenth century by defeated cavaliers and supporters of King James who were fleeing Oliver Cromwell’s Puritan commonwealth. These men brought with them their cavalier attitude, Anglican and Deist religious tendencies (also sometimes Catholic, especially in Maryland), and their aristocratic whim into the colonies. Mostly settling in Virginia and North Carolina, these exiled Cavaliers constituted the closest thing to an aristocratic and ennobled caste of people in the New World as in the Old World which they came.

Thomas Jefferson, in many ways—just as Cotton Mather and Samuel Langdon represented the embodiment and fulfillment of Puritan attitudes—embodied the very spirit of English Cavalierism. These men, like the Puritans, were fighters. But not necessarily revolutionaries in the same sense of the Puritans. Whereas the Puritans were fighting to expand their liberty as they pleased, the Virginia gentry who descended from the exiled Cavaliers fought to preserve their “natural rights” bequeathed to them by their lineage. They fought for “honor” and “nobility.” Their domination of Virginia and the Carolina coasts produced an awkward political relationship with England come the Revolutionary War.

In many ways, religion shaped one’s influence concerning the American War of Independence. Deists and Anglicans tended to be fervent loyalists. Unitarians and Presbyterians (Calvinist strand, like Patrick Henry) had come strongly to endorse the American fight for independence on religious grounds. As a result, the Anglican Church—turned into the Episcopal Church—suffered greatly for their price of loyalism at the hands of Reformed-oriented Protestant groups.

Nevertheless, the cavalier attitude and character persevered, in part, because of cavalier men like Thomas Jefferson—a public face of the Revolution. But the cavalier vision of liberty was hierarchal and inherited. They held to the timeless values of chivalry and honor, which they considered threatened by Puritanical sentimentality and moralism. Their vision of liberty was not one that was granted by contract (theoretically egalitarian in nature), but one that was inherited only by a special caste of people. As such, and by geographic location, slavery entered their outlook as being something inferior to the natural talent and liberty of the Cavalier class. However, due to their insistence on honor and chivalry, they saw slavery in a manner similar to feudal serfdom back in Europe. Slaves, although property, commanded respect, and should be properly fed and nurtured to some extent. This by no means excuses the inhumanity of the system of racialized slavery, but I think one should permit me in providing the Cavalier outlook that often failed to live up to its own vision. This split between "Deep South" slavery and the mythologized benign version envisioned by Cavaliers would become problematic. When defenders of slavery stood up, like Calhoun, they did so with the romantic vision they had, and ignored the brutal inhumanity of chattel slavery in the Deep South, which is what the northerners saw and understood by slavery.

As later generations of cavalier land owners moved westward, they brought with them their mentality of “natural right” to land and ownership to the new lands of the west. This caused dilemmas between other strands of American political thinking that equally saw the virgin lands of the west as fertile territory for the blossoming and flourishing of their worldview too. Inevitably, one can see where this was going to lead.

Charles I of England. "Cavaliers," was a term used to describe aristocratic supporters of the king against Cromwell and the Parliamentarians during the English Civil War. After the Cavaliers were defeated, many migrated to America to find a new life in Cromwell's republic. Many settled in Virginia and North Carolina and established themselves as the primary intellectual and cultural force in both states. The University of Virginia, founded by Thomas Jefferson, is nicknamed "the Cavaliers" in homage to this lineage. The Cavaliers in Virginia were always suspicious of Puritan activities in the north. This would have ramifications during westward expansion in later centuries as the heirs of both movements came into conflict with each other.​

One should visibly see a major difference in these two traditions of American culture and understanding of “liberty.” The Puritan tradition is rooted in the Old Testament idea of the Covenant. The ancient Jewish Covenant was not that Yahweh had chosen the Israelites, but that the Israelites had chosen Yahweh. (This is the Jewish concept of Election.) Fitted into a Puritan context, the Puritans chose to enter a covenant with God. By choosing God in Covenant, the Puritan was bestowed a collective notion of liberty and rights that he was then obliged to exercise to the benefit of his fellow community members. There is a basis of egalitarianism in this thinking, but only among members of the community. Those outside of the community could not be equal to members of the community unless they entered the community. But in entering into the covenant community, liberty and rights were a means of conformity and stringent ordering. And by the ability to enter, this strand of “activist liberty” is also expansionist, theoretically any person—in their consent—can become a member and is granted rights and liberties. Lastly, the covenant is enteral—and all rights and liberties are inherited by one’s posterity because of your action of either entering into the covenant community, or having been born into yourself. Once a member always a member (unless kicked out) is not that dissimilar from the Calvinist motto “once saved always saved” (unless deemed a heretic).

The Cavalier context is much difference. Liberty is not something that can expand by consent into the covenant. Instead, it is something that only a select number of people have. That liberty is their birthrate, and by honor and chivalry they will fight to defend it. Liberty was not a contractual set of rights as in the Puritan framework, but a natural right to—. In most cases, the obvious answer is the right to land and property. Perhaps this can help illuminate for many, those infamous words of that Confederate battle cry “The Bonnie Blue Flag”:

We are a band of brothers
And native to the soil,
Fighting for the property
We gained by honest toil;
And when our rights were threatened,
The cry rose near and far--
"Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag
That bears a single star!"

…

But now, when Northern treachery
Attempts our rights to mar,
We hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag
That bears a single star!

…

And rather than submit to shame,
To die we would prefer;
So cheer for the Bonnie Blue Flag
That bears a single star!

The Puritan model was secularized into the Constitution, but Cavalier interpreters read the Constitution as permitting them the rights they understood to be natural to them. These two competing traditions were moving toward conflict following the success of the Texas Revolution and the opening of westerly North American lands.



[1] Many scholars have asserted that modern progressivism, in a sense of fitting irony and paradox, is in fact the newest incarnation of Puritanism in America. Not only is it unsurprising that “Blue” states are all located in the former heartlands of the Puritans, the Puritan insistence on social activism through conformity is also noted in modern progressivism. While having visibly moved away from the theological origins of the Puritan movement, modern progressivism nevertheless embodies the very Puritan spirit of community activism, social engineering, and a sense of Ordering Liberty in which liberty and rights are exercised to enforce conformity in the community and maintain that community. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess.

*This too, is the original argument of “American Exceptionalism.” Rather than being the “leader of the free world,” subscribing to the eternal values of liberty, freedom, and democracy to be spread to the four corners of the world, America was exceptional because of “what she was at home”: the “New Israel” of the Puritan Covenant community ceaselessly working toward creating the ideal community on the shores of North America, otherwise unconcerned with global events but open to the possibility of exiles seeking to enter into the covenant community. One also sees how this spirit lives on in modern progressivism, albeit again, without its original theological foundations.

RECOMMEND READING

David Hackett Fischer, Albion’s Seed

*Without argue one of the most important books to understanding, or having a firm foundation, of American history. If you had to read just one book of American history/historiography, this would be it.

Barry Shain, The Myth of American Individualism: The Protestant Origins of American Thought


SUGGESTED READING

E. Digby Baltzall, The Protestant Establishment: Aristocracy and Caste in America

Michael Hoberman, New Israel/New England: Jews and Puritans in Early America

E. Brooks Holifield, Theology in America, Christian Thought from the Age of the Puritans to the Civil War

Thomas Kidd, The Protestant Interest: New England after Puritanism

Edmund S. Morgan, essay, “The Puritan Ethic and American Revolution” (1967)

William Taylor, Cavalier and Yankee: The Old South and American National Character

Richard Wade, Slavery in the Cities​

 

[RossN]

Fascinating work volksmarschall, it really adds depth to the background of this AAR.

I'm not American and I suspect like many non-Americans I tend to view the 'diversification' of America as coming from 19th/20th century immigration - Irish, Germans, Scandinavians, Jews, Italians, Chinese and so on. It is intriguing to see the different strands pulling with (and against!) each other from the beginning.

 

[Idhrendur]

Ah, I've long hoped for an actual historian to chime in on Albion's Seed! I've seen it reviewed elsewhere, but it's one of those books that seems like it is either very solid or very much bunk and you have to know your history pretty well to tell the difference. I guess it's good, then, and it's going on my list.

 

[volksmarschall]

Fascinating work volksmarschall, it really adds depth to the background of this AAR.

I'm not American and I suspect like many non-Americans I tend to view the 'diversification' of America as coming from 19th/20th century immigration - Irish, Germans, Scandinavians, Jews, Italians, Chinese and so on. It is intriguing to see the different strands pulling with (and against!) each other from the beginning.

You're absolutely right. Even in America, we have painted mythologies that reinforce such concepts. Not to say education = enlightenment, but this stuff I'm bringing up is generally taught at graduate level courses throughout most universities as part of the "broad curriculum" where we look at cultural, intellectual, religious, political, materialist, etc. readings of history and philosophy instead of the uniform textbook reading or horrible media attempts to explain things.

The history of American pluralism is an awkward one because we generally, today at least, don't regard Protestantism as having been pluralistic (even though it was until the last 100ish years) or competing philosophies as pluralistic either. As I think one can start to see, even though this is an AAR with encoded hints at what's going in game from time to time (at least on the posts where I'm not discussing my in-game developments explicitly) I'm also trying to nudge us all away from the simplistic readings of American history (like America was founded as a "classically liberal" nation where everyone agreed with those ideas). But in reality, the various different dissenting Protestant sects, with all their unique ideas, also the Cavalier mentality that was steeped more in "natural philosophy" I suppose more than religion, nevertheless was a genuine pluralism before the more visible strands emerge with ethnic immigration.

I'm glad you're receiving a fuller picture and enjoying it! Makes me feel better to know it's worth the time, especially since I could have just jumped from the Texas Revolution to Westward Expansion (and the Mexican War that I've hinted at already) but took the time to provide some more background before moving into what, I think, we all know what's about to come from the game's side.

Ah, I've long hoped for an actual historian to chime in on Albion's Seed! I've seen it reviewed elsewhere, but it's one of those books that seems like it is either very solid or very much bunk and you have to know your history pretty well to tell the difference. I guess it's good, then, and it's going on my list.

If my recommendation means anything! I think it's a very important work that, when read and understood in context, can greatly help to illuminate American culture, politics, and history more generally. Although it might make you subsequently upset at the kindergarten level mythologies about our history, culture, and politics you get on TV or newspapers who so many plebeians take as gospel.

I'm glad to know that this has actually helped you decide whether or not reading some 900 pages (iirc) is worth it. I think you'll enjoy it as an inquiring student of American history. There are some points of criticism I could level against his work, but that doesn't take away from the content itself, or the importance. For instance, I think his commentaries on the Puritans and Scotch-Irish are very strong, his commentaries on the Cavaliers and Quakers tend be a bit weaker in comparison (that's my opinion). There's a few other books concerning those two groups I would recommend, but then we'll be covering them next with those selections listed for anyone who has interest.

 

[Specialist290]

It's funny that Albion's Seed has come up -- I was going to make a post earlier today recommending it to you if you hadn't already mentioned it, since it occurred to me that much of Jackson's appeal to the voters out West -- largely of Scots-Irish extraction -- was that he essentially set up his Presidential image as that of the "clan patriarch of the American family."

And while I acknowledge your many warnings against letting our present color view of the past overmuch, I can't help but speculate that -- in relation to current events -- much of Donald Trump's appeal to his own voting base is ultimately rooted in the same auto-iconography clothed in modern understandings of "family" and "success."

 

[volksmarschall]

It's funny that Albion's Seed has come up -- I was going to make a post earlier today recommending it to you if you hadn't already mentioned it, since it occurred to me that much of Jackson's appeal to the voters out West -- largely of Scots-Irish extraction -- was that he essentially set up his Presidential image as that of the "clan patriarch of the American family."

And while I acknowledge your many warnings against letting our present color view of the past overmuch, I can't help but speculate that -- in relation to current events -- much of Donald Trump's appeal to his own voting base is ultimately rooted in the same auto-iconography clothed in modern understandings of "family" and "success."

I don't want to come out and state such things in an explicit fashion since this is an AAR and not volks' commentary thread on current events, but I tend to agree that the hagiographic view of Trump (among his supporters) can be contextualized in that fashion. When you're familiar with such scholarship and viewpoints, it's very likely one can see potential overlap.

It's like all the scholars who draw, I think correctly, the parallels between the Puritans and contemporary "Progressives." Fundamentally trying to achieve the same thing, just from a different foundation, so to speak.

Since we're moving into the age of westward expansion for the game, and inevitably we'll be looking at all that good stuff, by these "background" posts, I'm trying to illuminate more meat for sectionalism than just the canard of slavery vs. free soil (which is, of course, true, and I'll be discussing that at the appropriate time). Albion's Seed really is a good book, but of course, not for the faint of heart either.

It's funny you bring up Jackson too. Because the next post I've written deals with them, and I do believe somewhere in this forthcoming explanation I draw that connection with Jackson. Stealing my thunder!!

 

[Specialist290]

If it's any consolation, consider that I'll be like the magician secretly watching another magician's performance from the stands -- he might know how the trick works while the audience doesn't, but that knowledge also allows him to better appraise and appreciate the subtleties in the performer's technique

(I was a college history major myself, though unfortunately I didn't end up going into any sort of graduate or postgraduate programs afterwards. There was a quite heavy focus on American history there, particularly -- it being a denominational college -- on early American church history. Albion's Seed wasn't part of the curriculum, but I've had enough of an interest in the topic that I've done a little bit of independent reading both during and since my college years.)

 

[volksmarschall]

CHAPTER III: THE ORIGINS OF SECTIONALISM


The Quaker Capitulation and the Restless Scotch-Irish​

Apart from the Puritans and Cavaliers who settled New England and the southerly Mid-Atlantic states, the two other groups that established important legacies in the formation of sectional tension in the United States were the Quakers in northerly Mid-Atlantic states (Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and northern Delaware) and the Scotch-Irish who mostly congregated in Appalachia, and the frontier regions of the west and south. The Quakers were utopian in their outlook, much like the Puritans, but also notably different. The Scotch-Irish, likewise, shared the restless Puritan fever: revolutionary, militant, and atavistic, but were hardly utopian—perhaps a result of their history in Europe.

The Quakers are much less important in the formation in an American political tradition, but their notion of liberty and society was a reciprocating one. Liberty was something that was to be reciprocated in society. It was more egalitarian than the contractual egalitarianism of the Puritans since it implied that all persons were naturally equal.

What the Quakers did bequeath to the United States was two-fold, that are altogether very important for understanding sectional differences. While the Puritans saw instrumental activism, and politics, a noble calling that was demanded of the “elite” of Puritan society, the Quakers saw such activism and politicking as sinful and corrupting. As such, while the Quakers initially had disproportionate influence in Pennsylvania (especially in Philadelphia), their power lapsed as new waves of immigrants entered. Dutch Calvinists, Catholics, Presbyterians, and all other groups entered Pennsylvania and the Quakers slowly capitulated their political body to these new groups.

Instead of devoting time to science and education like the Puritans, the Quakers were obsessed with fostering that reciprocal relationship of liberty—not just among themselves but also to newcomers. As such, a gentlemanly and upperclass social character began to form. The “gentlemanly” spirit was the child of the Quakers. This, however, had the unintended effect of eventually walling off the upperclasses from the lowerclasses, fostering a spirit of class resentment and conflict between established Protestants with newly arrived lower-class Protestant revivalists and also Catholics. The sectional tension in the north was much more class-based than political as it was in the west and south.

Rather than enter politics, Quakers tended to enter economic professions for their settlements and cities, and many became very wealthy—somewhat ironic considering the agrarian utopianism of their ancestors. But this was the contingent side-effect of capitulating their political responsibilities, if they had any. As such, the Quakers became prominent merchants and businessmen, and with their newfound wealth amassed in economic pursuits while others bickered in politics, they began to found charities, public schools, and also engage in private scientific endeavors. The benevolent upperclass spirit was born from the Quakers, ironically a result of them moving toward economic professions while leaving the business of political governance and organizing to new immigrants and settlers.

The capitulation of political responsibility among the Quakers meant that the political vacuum was filled by Democratic and Whig partisans by the 1830s and 1840s however. Rural Pennsylvania, with its poor and yeoman laborers, were organized into the Democratic Party rank and file—proudly and enthusiastically Jacksonian. In major metropolises, like Philadelphia, nativist Protestants who had moved up the social ladder because of the capitulating Quakers led to the formation of an uneasy and jealous Whiggism. These new upperclass Protestants (not of Quaker lineage) jealously safeguarded their ideals and wealth against newcomers, and strongly endorsed Whig policies that they stood to benefit from, and also were vehemently anti-Jacksonian too. Later, as waves of Catholic immigrants began entering the country in 1840s and 1850s, anti-Catholic sentiment exploded in major coastal cities—especially in Philadelphia where riots and battles were fought between the city’s Protestant upperclass (non-Quaker) and mostly poor Irish-Catholic immigrants.

***​

Robert Conrad, a Philadelphia newspaper mogul, best exemplified the new sectionalism in the north because of the Quaker retreat. Conrad was an enthusiastic supporter of Whig mayor Jonathan Swift. Conrad embodied the new jealously of the new Protestant upperclass. Staunchly nativist, and seeking to safeguard their new position in society, Conrad constantly published against Jacksonian reforms and decried “the Catholic invasion” that threatened to undo the Protestant separation of Church and State and poison the “wellspring of liberty” and hard work.

Robert Conrad (left), one of the early newspaper moguls in America. Situated in Philadelphia, Conrad was an ardent Protestant nativist and skeptical of Catholics of being proper Americans. Like many "serfs" who had managed to climb the social ladder in politics and economcis because of the Quaker retreat, Conrad jealously guarded his advancement against the arrival of immigrants. He would eventually be elected mayor of Philadelphia on the American "Know Nothing" Party ticket during the height of the Know Nothing Movement, and was also the Presidential nominee of the party in 1856. One of his strongest allies (or vice-versa) was Mayor Jonathan Swift (right). Mayor Swift was an ardent Whig and promoter of industrialization in reflection of his advancement up the social ladder too. Contrary to popular belief, many ardent nativists and nationalists were members of the Whig Party with an overwhelmingly moralistic Protestant bent. Many Democrats were restless westward travelling pioneers who were not threatened by waves of new immigration (as of yet). Nativism grew in popularity along the American coasts in the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic in particular, and there was also an element of economic resentment along with ethnic and religious reasons for nativism too. Quakers were generally accepting of immigrants, but some people speculate that the Quaker retreat from public life allowed for greater levels of nativist sentiment without their more benign attitudes in halls of political power.​

In his newspaper offices, Conrad waged war against those political forces that he considered to be an enemy of the Whig economic cause. In what amounted to class warfare, Conrad and his supporters wanted to keep those whom they saw as inferior and a threat to their economic hegemony down by well-crafted Whig policies. These upperclass people in Pennsylvania, but also emerging in the new Midwestern states, understood what Jackson also understood (although they opposed Jackson). Whig policies benefited the upperclass, and deliberately so. Jacksonian policies of democratic expansion threatened to upend the walls constructed in the retreat of the Quakers and the vacuum that was filled by “industrious and intelligent” Americans.

What should be visible in Conrad’s ideology, in conjuncture with the upperclass ethos that formed out of the Quaker ethic of reciprocity, is something of what is sometimes is called “economic conservatism” in America—that economically callous, jealous, and anti-populist Hamiltonianism that has long roots in American economic culture and society. Whereas the Puritan model of ordering liberty was theoretically expansionist and sometimes authoritarian, the vacuum left by the Quakers was swallowed up by truly industrious and intelligent entrepreneurs who embodied everything Hamilton wanted in the new America. Yet, having reached their pinnacle of success, they became like a forlorn hope defending the castle.

The castles they built and occupied were jealously defended at the exclusion of their fellow Americans. The Quaker reciprocal utopianism was inverted to become reciprocity among fellow upperclass Americans and only to fellow upperclass Americans. Whereas the Cavalier and Puritans established a sectionalism over metaphysics and the role of liberty (and how to interpret the Constitution), the capitulation of the Quakers to new immigrant groups made it possible for the establishment of class and economic sectionalism that subsequently merged into political factionalism that would add another element into American culture and history during the “Age of Sectionalism.”

The birth of social class snobbery, as some would say, was the unintended outgrowth of the Quaker retreat from politics, concentration in economics, then isolation from the rural countryside. Non-Quaker upperclass Protestants were quick to call the lower class “the Lower Sort”: ignorant, uneducated, unenlightened masses who threatened the castle of civilization itself. This led to the two polarizations of upperclass ethos and caricatures—from the Quakers themselves, a benevolent upperclass ethos, from those who rose through the ranks because of the Quaker capitulation in politics, a haughty and gritty snobbery that looked down at others.

***​

In sharp contrast with this safeguarding nativism was the restless militancy of the Scotch-Irish Presbyterians. Like the Puritans, these Calvinist oriented Protestants were natural revolutionaries and fighters. After all, the Presbyterians had been fighting for two centuries for their religious rights and liberties against Catholic and Anglican hegemony that threatened to stamp out their religious tradition. When arriving in America, while enjoying the fruits of religious liberty, they injected into American politics their quasi-social utopianism that led to conflicts with Cavaliers (but also the Puritans).

Many of the Scotch-Irish began their migration to North America during the persecution of Charles I in which he attempted to enforce Presbyterian conformity and loyalty to the Anglican Church. These rebellious and liberty-seeking peoples then migrated in three main waves to North America: 1630s-1640s, 1715-1775, and a last wave in aftermath of American independence around the 1790s.

When these migratory people arrived in North America, both the established Cavalier and Puritan communities were suspicious of these armed, militant, and restless Presbyterians, but ultimately invited them to “secure the frontier.” As a result, the Scotch-Irish tended to congregate in the American frontier, inaugurating a period of struggles with Native-Americans to secure the blessings of land and liberty that they were denied in Britain, but subsequently taking from Native-Americans in the process. Nevertheless, the Scotch-Irish bequeathed to America another important strand of liberty.

A painting of the depressed and exhausted Scotch-Irish on the move. Most of the original Scotch-Irish in America were Protestant nationalists and dissenters from Ireland and Scotland who rejected the Anglican Ascendancy. Many fled to America in three waves of immigration. When they arrived, Cavaliers in Virginia and Puritans in New England invited them to settle the westerly frontier. As a result, many Scotch-Irish remained poor in the frontier zones of America, but finally had the respite and liberty that they had so long desired (to some degree at least). The Scotch-Irish played a crucial role in the American Revolution. One British general, testifying in the House of Commons about the revolt, remarked that at least half of the American soldiers were from Ireland, and that the revolution was a Presbyterian revolt more than anything else.​

Like the Cavaliers, the Scotch-Irish believed in “natural liberty” but a natural liberty that was more egalitarian than the hierarchal and inherited natural liberty of the Cavalier aristocrats. Having been persecuted for their faith by established religion and government, the Scotch-Irish developed a hasty and militantly anti-establishment mentality that was suspicious of all forms of organized government and religion (except for their own local governments and Presbyteries that is). In seeking the liberty of conscience and religion, the Scotch-Irish fostered a firm belief in the natural rights to liberty, freedom of religion, and freedom of association as means to prevent possible coercion from the established Cavalier and Puritan settlements already present in America. But because of their background of abuse and persecution, they were always willing to fight for their rights and liberties when they perceived them to be threatened.

Because of their frontier position far from the coast, they also developed a head-strong individualism, or “rugged individualism” as Henry Jackson Turner famously described it. The Scotch-Irish were fighters for their rights and liberties that they believed were natural to all, but were always in danger of losing from the oppressive hand of church and state. American anti-establishment attitudes are generally attributed to the Scotch-Irish paranoia, but who can blame them considering their history?

In America, they faced conflict among the Cavaliers in Virginia and North Carolina who more or less pushed them into the frontier of their colonies. By contrast, Cotton Mather was open in receiving fellow Protestant dissenters. He chartered their movements to secure New Hampshire, in particular, which probably explains New Hampshire’s unique “libertarian” culture among the New England states, but also what would become Maine (which may also explain Maine’s more anti-Puritan sentiment). Furthermore, Mather sympathized with their quest for religious liberty—something the Puritans knew all too well. While Massachusetts Bay did have an established church, the Scotch-Irish found refuge in western Pennsylvania, but others pushed further west with notable communities in Iowa.

But lest we view this as noble, we should understand that the Puritans didn’t want Presbyterian competition in their territory either. By paying for the Presbyterians to move west, they preserved their unity but also ensured promise to the Scotch-Irish that since they would be settling lands outside of Puritan dominion, they would have their natural freedom and have no fear of Puritan encroachment. It was a win-win for both groups, but for generally self-centered reasons with the Puritans jealously guarding what they believed was theirs by covenant, and the Presbyterian Scotch-Irish not wanting to constantly fear establishment persecution and oppression.

Additionally, their abuse at the hands of the English also led to a long-standing anti-English resentment among the Scotch-Irish in America. They were, along with the Puritans, early supporters of the American Revolution. Andrew Jackson was their favorite son, a Scotch-Irish Presbyterian himself, and a popular fighter—fatherly figure almost—for their natural rights and liberty that was threatened by the likes of the National Bank, unfair tax policies, and anti-rural prejudice.

Their frontier location also meant that it was predominately the Scotch-Irish who pushed westward between 1800-1840s. Many of American-Texan revolutionaries, for instance, were Scotch-Irish. But their mistrust of government and their militant nature also would ensure sectional tensions. As future northwestern states aligned themselves with the Puritan model of governance and political interpretation, the Scotch-Irish felt besieged. Also, new waves of Irish and German Catholic immigration, as well as Swedish Lutheran immigration, into some of the lands settled by the Scotch-Irish led to conflicts with these groups whom the Scotch-Irish feared were about to overrun what they had worked so hard to produce for themselves.

A painting of frontier life among the Scotch-Irish. Notorious and rough, these were hardy people just like their ancestors were in Europe. The Scotch-Irish bequeathed to American culture a spirit of frontier zeal, independence, and hard work. They disliked being looked down upon, and were often paranoid about centralized authority for obvious reasons due to their history. As a side note, please note the unexpected fire that has broken out on the log pile to the left of the painting. Frontier life was often tough, but because of this, the Scotch-Irish became a hardy people. Observers of the frontier life noted this "ruggedness" and that the Scotch-Irish were truly an independent and arduous peoples.​

This dilemma and schizophrenic nature of the Scotch-Irish Americans also had ramifications in the lead up to the Civil War. Northern Scotch-Irish eventually became ardent defenders of the Union and allies with their old Puritan friends from New England, just as they had been strong supporters of the American Revolution. (So much so that British reports in the House of Commons often referred to the American Revolution as an Ulster-Scottish Presbyterian revolt in America.) Southern Scotch-Irish felt that the Civil War was another “English Civil War” and that the oppressive hand of the Puritan north was coming stamp out their rights and liberties that they had also worked so hard to seize and preserve, and therefore saw a replay of the American War of Independence in which they were fighting for their rights and liberties—unconsciously, perhaps, not realizing how they also fell into the slaveholding cavalier hands. Their insistence on political liberty also prompted the rise of “popular sovereignty” in northern and western territories that would become the nexus of sectional tension in the young republic.

In particular, the Scotch-Irish independent ruggedness, Puritan moralism and covenant liberalism, and Cavalier romanticism and pseudo-aristocratic sentiments were destined for a collision in the new frontier of the American west opened up by the Texas Revolution and the First Mexican War. These competing visions and dreams for the newly opened lands of the West are the real foundations for the sectional tension that exploded between 1838-1859, culminating in the crisis leading up to the Civil War come 1860.

RECOMMENDED READING

David Hackett Fischer, Albion’s Seed

SUGGESTED READING

E. Digby Baltzaal, Puritan Boston and Quaker Philadelphia and Philadelphia Gentlemen

Henry James Ford, The Scotch-Irish in America

Barry Levy, Quakers and the American Family

Larry Hoefling, Scots and Scotch Irish: Frontier Life in North Carolina, Virginia, and Kentucky

Bill Gordon Smith, The Lower Sort: Philadelphia’s Laboring People

Frederick Tolles, Meeting House and Counting House: The Quaker Merchants of Colonial Phildelphia

Senator Jim Webb, Born Fighting: How the Scotch-Irish Shaped America​

 

[Specialist290]

Yet another fascinating look at a subsection of early nineteenth century America. I especially like the way you (here and elsewhere) provide little "snapshot" biographies to emphasize how the broad social trends you discuss unfold in concrete terms in people's lives. Robert Conrad sounds like someone I'm going to have to do some more reading up on.

 

[RossN]

It is very interesting to see the Scotch-Irish in America - I'm more familiar with them from the history in, well, Ireland.

The Quakers might be even more fascinating though, perhaps because of that very lack of baggage (here, if remembered at all it is probably via their efforts at Famine Relief.)

 

[volksmarschall]

Yet another fascinating look at a subsection of early nineteenth century America. I especially like the way you (here and elsewhere) provide little "snapshot" biographies to emphasize how the broad social trends you discuss unfold in concrete terms in people's lives. Robert Conrad sounds like someone I'm going to have to do some more reading up on.

Thanks! The small snapshot biographies, as you put it, will be a recurring feature as we progress through this AAR. Helps paint a more lively picture--to remember the humans and all--of what's going on than the dry commentary (not that there's anything wrong with that) over everything. I'd like to bring back some important people "back in the day" who have otherwise been forgotten for many reasons. After all, Conrad was the first mayor of the newly consolidated Philadelphia. Owned several important newspapers in the city. And was instrumental in developing both the modern character and political nature of Philadelphia until the Dems took over in the early 50s. Yet no one seems to know him! I find that altogether fascinating.

Plus, we'll revisit him in 1856 as briefed in the caption explanation. I like to still include some "what's actually going on" in the game moments so we don't forget that I'm also interweaving "real history" with the new timeline as occurring in the game.

Glad to know you're enjoying it all.

It is very interesting to see the Scotch-Irish in America - I'm more familiar with them from the history in, well, Ireland.

The Quakers might be even more fascinating though, perhaps because of that very lack of baggage (here, if remembered at all it is probably via their efforts at Famine Relief.)

The Scotch-Irish are very important to American history for a number of reasons, as I'm trying to highlight. Their importance was instrumental in early American character, and cultural commentators argue we can see the residue of their legacy today in important ways. (Much like with the Puritans.) Now there's fewer than like 4-5 million Scotch-Irish (directly admitted in our census) in America, yet they played a massive role in our early history, and cultural formation. (Again, much like the Puritans.) I suppose different locations wield different results? Admittedly I'm not well familiar with them in Ireland or Scotland other than the stories that get told in U.S. works explaining their flight to North America.

The Quakers are quite fascinating. Although, I personally don't know how much of their cultural legacy really plays out. Fischer's commentary about the industrial and capitalist ethos from the Quakers I find to be very weak. I find Baltzaal's cultural and social ethos commentary to be much more convincing. Yes, it's hard to criticize the Quakers for shortcomings, whereas the Puritans, Cavaliers, an Scotch-Irish all have aspects of them that are sometimes a bit disconcerting to modern sensibilities. Thanks for that link about the Famine Relief! I wasn't aware. Although I'm not surprised given their charitable ethos! From Britain to America, they've generally always been on the "right side" of moral and social issues. I tended to think they were mostly in England Proper and America, so it's actually quite illuminating to see their presence in mid-19th century Ireland!

 

[Idhrendur]

Are the Scots-Irish here the Scots who settled in Ireland and then later immigrated again, or more generally Scottish and Irish settlers? If the latter, you just covered the bulk of my immigrant ancestors!

 

[volksmarschall]

Are the Scots-Irish here the Scots who settled in Ireland and then later immigrated again, or more generally Scottish and Irish settlers? If the latter, you just covered the bulk of my immigrant ancestors!

It's really become short-hand for both. Although if we wanted to be really really specific. It's the latter and not the former. But America's "the melting pot," is it not? Generally refers to anyone of "Ulster" Irish and Scottish Protestant heritage from a dissenting Protestant sect (generally Presbyterian in the 1600s), and then later in Scotland, schismatic Presbyterian sects that broke with the Church of Scotland (in the mid 1700s).

I have a heavy romanticist view of the Scotch-Irish. Would love to be linked to them like you. But alas, I'm not!

 

[RossN]

The Scotch-Irish are very important to American history for a number of reasons, as I'm trying to highlight. Their importance was instrumental in early American character, and cultural commentators argue we can see the residue of their legacy today in important ways. (Much like with the Puritans.) Now there's fewer than like 4-5 million Scotch-Irish (directly admitted in our census) in America, yet they played a massive role in our early history, and cultural formation. (Again, much like the Puritans.) I suppose different locations wield different results? Admittedly I'm not well familiar with them in Ireland or Scotland other than the stories that get told in U.S. works explaining their flight to North America.

Er... well without getting too political I think it is probably safe to say the general perception of Ulster Presbyterians is decidedly more mixed in Ireland than that of the Scots Irish in America. Granted much of that is down to 19th/20th century (so post dating the emigration wave) but even before that the Plantations cast a long shadow over Irish history.

The Quakers are quite fascinating. Although, I personally don't know how much of their cultural legacy really plays out. Fischer's commentary about the industrial and capitalist ethos from the Quakers I find to be very weak. I find Baltzaal's cultural and social ethos commentary to be much more convincing. Yes, it's hard to criticize the Quakers for shortcomings, whereas the Puritans, Cavaliers, an Scotch-Irish all have aspects of them that are sometimes a bit disconcerting to modern sensibilities. Thanks for that link about the Famine Relief! I wasn't aware. Although I'm not surprised given their charitable ethos! From Britain to America, they've generally always been on the "right side" of moral and social issues. I tended to think they were mostly in England Proper and America, so it's actually quite illuminating to see their presence in mid-19th century Ireland!

Yes, it is something I was only vaguely familiar with myself, as you say they were never a large community here!

 

[Specialist290]

Speaking as someone who grew up in the American South and is a bona fide Southern Appalachian Mongrel with a little bit of Scots-Irish somewhere in me, I can vouch that classical Borderer norms and practices still influence a great deal of Southern culture, though often in subtle or unexpected ways. Of course, often "Southern values" are more honored in the breach or by way of nostalgia, but the ideas are still paid lip-service to at least.