Revolution,
indeed!--_but farmers, mechanics, and laborers had no share in it._ We
are the asses who pay." This was the burden of the Democratic song.
But the real issue between the two parties, which underlay all their
proposed measures and professed principles, was the old struggle of
classes, modified of course by the time and the place. The Democrats
contended for perfect equality, political and social, and as little power
as possible in the central government so long as their party was not in
command. The Federalists, who held the reins, were for a strong
conservative administration, and a wholesome distinction of classes.
The two parties were not long in waiting for flags to rally around, and
fresh fields on which to fight. The French Revolution furnished both. In
its early stages it had excited a general sympathy in America; and,
indeed, so has every foreign insurrection, rebellion, or riot since, no
matter where or why it occurred, provided good use has been made of
the sacred words Revolution and Liberty. This cry has never been
echoed in this country without exciting a large body of men to
mass-meetings, dinners, and other public demonstrations, who do not
stop to consider what it means, or whether, in the immediate instance, it
has any meaning at all. John Adams said in his "Defence of American
Constitutions," "Our countrymen will never run delirious after a word
or a name." Mr. Adams was much mistaken. If, according to the Latin
proverb, a word is sufficient for a wise man, so, in another sense, it is
all that is needful for fools. But as the Revolution advanced in France
towards republicanism, the Federalists, who thought the English system,
less the king and the hereditary lords, the best scheme of government,
began to grow lukewarm. When it became evident that the New Era
was to end in bloodshed, instead of universal peace and good-will
towards men,--that the Rights of Man included murder, confiscation,
and atheism,--that the Sovereignty of the People meant the rule of King
Mob, who seemed determined to carry out to the letter Diderot's
famous couplet,--
"Et des boyaux du dernier prêtre Serrez le cou du dernier des rois,"--
then the adjective French became in Federal mouths an epithet of
abhorrence and abuse; up went the flag of dear Old England, the
defender of the faith and of social order. The opposition party, on the
contrary, saw in the success of the French people, in their overthrow of
kings and nobles, a cheerful encouragement to their own struggle
against the aristocratic Federalists, and would allow no sanguinary
irregularities to divert their sympathy from the great Democratic
triumph abroad. The gay folds of the tricolor which floated over them
seemed to shed upon their heads a mild influence of that Gallic
madness that led them into absurdities we could not now believe, were
they not on record. The fashions, sartorial and social, of the French
were affected; amiable Yankees called each other _citizen_, invented
the feminine _citess_, and proposed changing our old calendar for the
Ventose and Fructidor arrangement of the one and indivisible republic.
(We wish they had adopted their admirable system of weights and
measures.) Divines are said to have offered up thanks to the Supreme
Being for the success of the good _Sans-culottes_. At all events, their
victories were celebrated by civic festivals and the discharge of cannon;
the English flag was burned as a sacrifice to the Goddess of Liberty; a
French frigate took a prize off the Capes of the Delaware, and sent her
in to Philadelphia; thousands of the populace crowded the wharves, and,
when the British colors were seen reversed, and the French flying over
them, burst into exulting hurras. When a report came that the Duke of
York was a prisoner and shown in a cage in Paris, all the bells of
Philadelphia rang peals of joy for the downfall of tyrants. Here is the
story of a civic _fête_ given at Reading, in Massachusetts, which we
extract from a newspaper of the time as a specimen of the
Gallo-Yankee absurdities perpetrated by our grandfathers:--
"The day was ushered in by the ringing of the bells, and a salute of
fifteen discharges from a field-piece. The American flag waved in the
wind, and the flag of France over the British in inverted order. At noon
a large number of respectable citizens assembled at Citizen Raynor's,
and partook of an elegant entertainment. After dinner, Captain
Emerson's military company in uniform assembled and escorted the
citizens to the meeting-house, where an address pertinent to the
occasion was delivered by the Rev. Citizen Prentiss, and united prayers
and praises were offered to God, and several hymns and anthems were
well sung; after which they returned in procession to Citizen Raynor's,
where three
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