The Scientific Historian and Our Colonial Period

THE stream of writings upon American history has been flowing strongly for a century, until now the field is buried deep with monographs, documents, biographies, textbooks, and political or institutional studies. A wilderness of separate works of all kinds and of all degrees of merit confronts the student, but within the last few years the conviction has been felt by many that the time has arrived when the results of research and interpretation may well be given a lasting, general form. As a result of this idea the publication has been begun of no less than seven elaborate, comprehensive works, and by this time they have progressed sufficiently far to enable us to see how the historian of to-day digests the redundant mass of historical information hitherto produced. At the same time, however, the current of historical writing continues to flow in all its accustomed channels so that the general works, as they issue from the press, are accompanied by a steady stream of lesser volumes, amplifying and modifying the historical knowledge of the country while it is in the process of being summed up.

In the first place there are still documents to be published with editorial comments and elucidations; and while state governments and historical societies are busy with public archives, a minor form of original source, just now high in favor for artistic reproduction, is the narrative of early travel. For example, there has recently been printed the diary of George Washington, describing his journey in 1784 from the Potomac to the Ohio River with a view to planning for a trans-Appalachian canal. In every line the clearheaded, far-sighted, and prosaic nature of the future President appears.¹ This is now published in full with copious notes and explanations and an enthusiastic, rather magniloquent introduction by Archer Butler Hulbert. For a later period, when the frontier had been pushed back from the Ohio to the Mississippi, we have the Personal Narrative of Fordham, a lively young Englishman, who traveled in 1817 to an English colony in Illinois, now published with copious notes by Frederic Austin Ogg.² In this we find the same frontier types of settlers met in Pennsylvania by Washington and little changed. Still later is the journal of J. W. Audubon, son of the famous naturalist, who led a party of forty-niners to California by way of Texas and New Mexico. His tale of adventure and suffering is now edited by Frank H. Hodder,³ as a further contribution to frontier description. No one of these volumes adds anything material to the history of the country, but their social and local antiquarian interest is considerable and their editing is as admirable as their typography, paper, and binding.

But the printing of sources is not history. That demands the effort of a writer to show us the past, not through the eyes of any one man, but as it actually was; and the extent to which he succeeds depends wholly upon his ability, training, and purpose. At the outset one encounters the book whose author relies upon the facts ascertained by others and contributes nothing but his own rearrangement, which may be highly valuable but is quite as likely to be narrow and inaccurate. A book of this character is one upon The French Blood in America, by Lucien J. Fosdick;⁴ which may be described as a collection of miscellaneous information about French Huguenots who migrated to this country, and about persons of prominence in American history for whom some degree of French ancestry can be traced. The purpose of the whole is to exalt the part played by Huguenot exiles and their descendants, but the claims advanced are so boundless and the critical ability displayed so slender as to provoke incredulity.

Equally based upon the labors of other people, but better balanced, are two large volumes by De Alva S. Alexander entitled A Political History of New York.⁵ The author appears to have consulted only standard histories and biographies, and so adds nothing to our knowledge of the field, while his point of view is so personal that the work consists of little more than a chronicle of nominations, elections, and struggles for party leadership from the days of Burr and Clinton to those of Weed, Seward, and Seymour. Still, in this limited field Mr. Alexander writes with vigor, and shows generally a sound judgment which partly atones for his tendency to hero-worship and his lack of research.

It is, however, among the books where the writer has an actual acquaintance with the evidence and applies his mind to the process of interpretation that historical progress usually takes place. Here we find two types. In one the author concerns himself mainly with the discovery of facts; in the other he devotes his powers chiefly to their interpretation. The former is the special province of the monograph, that highly technical product of our University training schools. An excellent example of this type is a recent study of the growth of freedom of the press in Massachusetts, by Clyde A. Duniway.⁶ Here we have a narrow field and the complete exhaustion of all discoverable evidence bearing upon it. The text is shored up with innumerable notes and citations; buttressed with bibliographies and appendices. This chapter is now closed. It belongs to Mr. Duniway. Hereafter any one who wishes to know anything on this subject will refer to this monograph.

Inspired by the same spirit are two volumes by Herbert L. Osgood, The American Colonies in the Seventeenth Century ; for, although the field is much larger and the display of technical apparatus is less, the method is substantially identical.⁷ Mr. Osgood’s work is devoted to a careful study of the political institutions of the corporate and proprietary colonies, and it is based upon all the known sources, as its copious footnotes indicate. Other aspects of colonial history — such as the economic or social or imperial — are either ignored or strictly subordinated. In neither of these monographs does the author concern himself with personalities. The style is lucid, colorless, and concrete. No scholar nor student of American colonial history can afford to neglect them, and probably no one but a scholar will read either of them. Their interest lies wholly in the technical field of historiography.

A higher type of historical writing is that wherein the author, acquainted with the sources and familiar with whatever has been written on his subject, seeks to explain and illuminate some past series of events. This is history with a purpose, and it is well illustrated in Captain Mahan’s latest book on the Sea Power in Its Relations to the War of 1812.⁸ Here we find all the well-known characteristics of this authoritative writer: the clear, careful analysis of events, the masterly reconstruction of naval manœuvres and combats, the passionless style, relieved now and then by touches of sarcasm, and the entire fairness to both sides. Less literary than Cooper’s history of the war, less vivacious than Roosevelt’s, less incisive than Henry Adams’s, this will supplant them all as an authority. Probably the strongest feature of the work, apart from the purely naval chapters, is the preliminary study of the British naval and trade policy which sheds new light on the tangled diplomacy of the years before 1812. Captain Mahan brings out clearly that the English conceptions, both of impressment and of trade relations with America, were the outgrowth of the experience of many generations and were based upon a definite theory of national interest. The book ends somewhat abruptly, however, with the conclusion of the treaty of Ghent and makes one wish that the author had carried his survey of Anglo-American trade relations to a conclusion. The only defect to be noticed — apart from the presence of several singularly confused drawings of naval combats — is the author’s failure to note the social and sectional influences which controlled American party policy in these years. His unconcealed contempt for the diplomatic and military careers of Jefferson and Madison — a contempt which no one would deny to be abundantly merited — is not accompanied by any recognition of the reasons for their peculiar line of action.

This style of writing, easily controlled by a master, like Captain Mahan, goes to wreck in the hands of the ill-trained or partisan writer. The careful analysis and weighing of evidence which leads the one to his conclusions is replaced in the case of the other by the employment of sources to justify preconceived ideas. Mr. William E. Fitch, for instance, in Some Neglected History of North Carolina, announces his purpose to demonstrate that the revolt of the “Regulators ” against Governor Tryon in 1771 “kindled the flame . . . that eventually, Vesuvius-like, spread with the rapidity of a wild forest fire, until the oppressed of the thirteen colonies were aflame with righteous indignation and unitedly determined to throw off forever the YOKE of British oppression.” ⁹ Unfortunately for the writer’s thesis, the documents he cites show that the uprising was purely against local misgovernment, and that the governor — a fiend incarnate — was supported by the legislature and the eastern counties which later led the revolt against British authority. Scarcely any attempt is made to account for this fact. The value of the book lies wholly in the original documents reprinted from the North Carolina Records.

Of greater weight than this product of ill-founded local enthusiasm, but almost equally far removed from Captain Mahan’s well-ordered history, is a volume by William B. Weeden, entitled War Government, Federal and State, 18611865. In this The author studies the relations between Lincoln and five state governors, — Morton, Andrew, Curtin, Morgan, and Seymour, — for the purpose of answering this question: Did these men, in fact, do all that they could and should have done for the suppression of the rebellion ? ¹⁰ The book is not a study of technical administration, of legislation, nor of constitutional powers; it does not concern itself with the details of government, but is rather a study of personalities and popular feeling and a critique of executive policy. Its distinguishing mark is the entire absence of any pretense at impartiality. The author is frankly dogmatic and fearlessly individual in his opinions. To him the exaltation of executive authority, supported by popular approval, is the ideal of government. He continually speaks of the “kingly prerogatives” of Lincoln, calls the war governors “Satraps of the people,” and finally reaches the point of terming executive power, “a God-like faculty.” Any failure by Lincoln or a state governor to use his one-man-power to the fullest extent he stigmatizes as a culpable weakness. He insists throughout that the one supreme error of the war was the failure to accept all the volunteers who came forward in 1861, and so swamp the rebellion at the outset. Any persons who failed to sustain this one-man-power naturally fare ill in his pages. The carping lawyers who criticised Lincoln are contemptuously waved aside, routine stupidity at Washington is lashed, regular army officers castigated, and the Democratic opposition pitilessly flayed. Governor Morton of Indiana stands out as the ideal patriot, Governor Seymour of New York is a “miscreant.” Summed up, the author’s position is that anything was right which the people, that is the Republican majority, would support. It is superfluous to observe that this is not ideal history; but it should be added that it makes highly interesting reading. The style, sometimes eccentric and inclined to digression, is always keen, pungent, and fearless. The characterization of Lincoln is refreshingly free from conventionality either in praise or blame, and, with all its partisanship, the book has distinct value.

Turning from these various studies in American history to the new comprehensive works, it is almost appalling to realize that it is by the digestion of a multitude of just such books — documentary or narrative, partisan or scientific, broad or narrow, good, bad or indifferent — that the general work must be produced. Prodigious as the task appears, it has been completed in the case of two histories, and in five others is so far advanced that we are in a position to judge of their character and to gather their verdict upon the interesting period of early exploration and colonization.

Of the two completed histories, the fivevolume work of Woodrow Wilson, first in the field, is now joined by a similar four-volume history over the names of James W. Garner and Henry Cabot Lodge.¹¹ Each of these attempts to present in brief form the results of modern scholarship for the benefit of the general reading public. Of the two, that of President Wilson is fluent, literary, discursive, personal; a prolonged essay on the causes and consequences of things. That of Mr. Garner and Senator Lodge is more solid, compact, and clear, without especial distinction of style and less philosophically ambitious. Each runs at times into vagueness in the effort to avoid undue detail, and each shows a desire to be “timely” and “up-to-date” by giving abundant space to the doings of the past few years. Yet these works, however comprehensive, and to whatever extent based on their authors’ acquaintance with the sources, are avowedly narrative, popular, and unanalytical. They are abundantly illustrated with imaginary pictures, and differ from such earlier works as those of Bryant and Gay, Ridpath or Ellis, only in their more modern, broader point of view, and the sounder scholarship behind them.

A higher aim is professed by the other five general histories whose publication is not yet concluded. Their purpose is to furnish a complete, detailed account, which shall sum up the present state of historical knowledge, and it is from them that we may hope to gain the reasoned, final judgment of American historical scholarship upon the colonial period.

Of the two histories produced by a single writer, that by Edward Channing is the briefer.¹² The first volume covers the ground to 1660 in a little over five hundred pages, with numerous references and a collection of critical notes at the end of each chapter. There is something singularly intimate and personal about this book. Beginning without introduction or flourish, the author narrates the course of events, emphasizing important points, calmly ignoring minor ones, never theorizing, never arguing, but evincing a steady clearness of judgment which appeals to the reader with growing power. This sense of balanced judgment is reinforced by the shrewd, occasionally ironical or humorous style which reflects the personality of the author. The book is not universal, it is not even broad; it is just the utterance of the personal opinions of Edward Channing, who has devoted his life to this particular field. It is alive all through.

The other history written by a single author is that of Mr. Elroy M. Avery, which covers in two large volumes the same ground which Channing deals with in one.¹³ Mr. Avery seems to have produced a good digest of what had been written before him, in a plain, clear style, usually without any ornament. He uses no footnotes, but his lists of authorities are ample, and his pages give evidence of the consultation of recent writers in special fields. On the whole his judgment is sound; he follows good authorities, and when they differ he selects that one which appeals to him as the better. Now and then small slips occur but, in general, his accuracy stands at a good level. What is lacking is precisely the quality which makes Mr. Channing’s book noteworthy, — the impression of personality and individual authority. Where Mr. Channing’s volume is stimulating, those of Mr. Avery are at best adequate or intelligent.

Turning to the historical works produced by collaboration, the ten-volume series begun by Messrs. Chancellor and Hewes may be dealt with rather briefly.¹⁴ The plan has some original features, since in each volume Mr. Chancellor writes on political and military history, and is followed by Mr. Hewes on economic and social progress. The pages are peppered with small maps, chronological tables, and symbolical charts, and at the end are notes and bibliographies; but when the text is read it proves to he disappointing. Mr. Chancellor’s history is not without merits; he continually emphasizes the relations of colonial beginnings to European events, endeavors to explain the significance of each step in colonization, and seems, on the whole, to avoid gross errors of fact. But his material is slight and it is further obscured by a flood of “literary ” allusions and historical philosophy-and-water in an inflated style which becomes a weariness to the reader’s patience. Any one who can blithely write of the Norsemen, Columbus, or the Elizabethan seamen, “going a-viking” is free from the ordinary canons of literary criticism. Mr. Hewes’s selections are less exuberant in style, but his social and economic history is equally meagre and disappointing. Statistical methods are obviously inadequate to illuminate the beginnings of civilization in the New World.

More extensive than any of the foregoing, and much more rapidly produced, are the two other cooperative histories, each of which aspires to be complete, authoritative, and final, —at once popular and scientific. The American Nation is a history in twenty-seven parts produced under the vigorous editing of Albert Bushnell Hart, to whose active personality the character of the series is in large part due.¹⁵ Each volume is written by a specialist in the period treated; each comprises about three hundred pages, certifies its sources by footnotes, and concludes with an elaborate critical essay upon the authorities. It shares, that is, the style of the monograph. Each volume, it should be added, is chiefly expository in form, and is written in a style which evinces extreme compression and self-restraint. In fact, the brief compass of the parts has forced the adoption of a tightly-reined-in manner. There is no room for ease. Nevertheless, the diverse authors achieve a considerable success. In the first group of five volumes devoted to the period of colonization, Mr. Cheyney furnishes a useful and suggestive introduction to the series, showing the social, political, and economic conditions of Europe and especially of England, which played a part in the colonizing movement. The second volume, by Mr. Farrand, on the Basis of American History, is a useful summary of the physical conditions of the North American continent, followed by a compact exposition of the languages, beliefs, and civilization of the primitive Indian population. This volume has the interest of a logical arrangement and clear statement, but its style is dry and without vivacity. Mr. Bourne’s volume, next in the series, on Spain in America, displays real literary power in spite of its cramped quarters. It covers the field of early discovery and exploration, including the Spanish conquest of the tropics and South America, and concludes with a sympathetic description of the Spanish colonial empire and colonial policy. While the volume is perforce somewhat critical in character, it is strikingly fair-minded and catholic in temper.

The fourth volume, by Lyon G. Tyler, on England in America, 1580-1652, is compact and vigorous, but is less easy in style and less certain and authoritative in tone; but the fifth volume, by Charles M. Andrews, on Colonial Self-Government, 1652-1689, is both a well-written book and a distinct contribution to our knowledge. The author’s thorough familiarity with the sources, especially with those in England, and his own confident temper of mind give a tone of authority, while his clear analytical style makes the early history even of New Jersey intelligible. On the whole the five volumes may be placed beside Mr. Channing’s, superior to it in breadth and completeness if unequal in sustained merit.

In the other coöperative series, edited by Guy Carlton Lee and of late by Francis Newton Thorpe, we find larger volumes, averaging four hundred and sixty pages, a somewhat different arrangement of material, and a different style of presentation. The form is less technical; there are no footnotes, appendices, or bibliographies; the style is less analytical, more narrative, and the whole treatment is more literary.¹⁶ The first volume, by Alfred Brittain, on Discovery and Exploration, includes not only the Spanish discoveries, but later English and French travels, to the eighteenth century. About one half of the book consists of translated extracts from the narratives of explorers, the author supplying a connecting thread. Mr. Brittain makes no pretense at being severely critical, but the narrative is a sound one, and the book will prove useful.

The second volume,on The Indians of North America in Historic Times, by Cyrus Thomas, is rendered apparently chaotic by its plan of arrangement. Mr. Thomas takes up each tribe in geographical sequence, beginning in the West Indies, and gives an outline of its known history since its first contact with whites. There is no general historical survey, nor is there any coördination between the different parts of the book, so that in spite of the fact that the individual sketches of tribal history are well written, the volume is scarcely readable. It may serve, however, as a useful reference work, although the lack of footnotes will prove a hindrance.

The next three volumes are of greater merit. Mr. Hamilton, writing the history of The Colonization of the South, 15111766, covers the territory from Virginia to Louisiana, and owing to his special knowledge of the field of early Southwestern history, devotes nearly one half the book to the Spanish and French colonies. This feature is a novelty, and a distinct addition to our knowledge, but in the account of Virginia and the Carolinas some things are left to be desired. The economic and institutional sides are not well developed, and such a significant event as Bacon’s rebellion is scantily dealt with and inadequately explained. Nevertheless, the animated style and general ease of treatment make the volume attractive.

The fourth volume, on The Middle States and Maryland, by Mr. Jones, is what might be called a workmanlike production. It is well-planned, and with the exception of an occasional vagueness in statement, well written. It appears to be based on the most recent works, and to cover the ground without especial errors. As in Mr. Hamilton’s volume, the economic and institutional sides are not largely developed, but in the midst of the book stands out one feature with unique prominence. Mr. Jones gives full, almost elaborate treatment to the intercolonial diplomacy of the English, Swedish, and Dutch governments, and in so doing makes a real contribution. In the fifth volume, by Mr. James, on the Colonization of New England, no such special distinction appears. The ground is covered in systematic manner without errors of importance, and without anything new. The book, like that of Mr. Avery above-mentioned, seems to be best characterized by such terms as intelligent or adequate. But there is, in all these books of Mr. Lee’s series, a greater literary ease than in those of the American Nation. The tightly-reined, terse self-restraint is not so manifest, for although the actual space devoted to events is not much greater, the authors were under less constraint as to their manner in filling it.

Now how, in general, does our colonial history fare at the hands of these writers ? The first striking feature is the moderation in critical judgment of all these works. In spite of the savage and inconoclastic historical writing of recent years these authors, without exception, adopt a catholic tone and regard their province as constructive rather than the reverse. All of them, it is pleasant to observe, speak with sympathy of Columbus, admitting his failings but finding true greatness in him. Recent bitter attacks, whose aim seems to be to strip the Genoese of every claim to respect for character, aspiration, or achievement, are uniformly passed over as hypercritical. Or, to take another example, it is satisfactory to notice the treatment accorded to John Smith, the colonial adventurer undoubtedly best known to the traditional, anecdotal history of the country. Of late the narrative of the boastful explorer had been mercilessly assailed as the tale of an unqualified liar, but all of our historians, with the exception of Mr. Channing,persist in retaining Smith’s account of early days in Virginia, and three of them — Chancellor, Tyler, and Hamilton— fully accept the Pocahontas rescue.

In another quarter where tradition has established an unfavorable impression, most of these writers labor to reinstate the victims. Ever since Irving’s Knickerbocker History the tendency to regard the Dutch governors as a succession of ridiculous figures has persisted in spite of every effort of indignant New Yorkers. But only Mr. Avery seems inclined toward the traditional view, while all the others present Van Twiller, Kieft, and Stuyvesant as reasonable beings, and Channing maintains that they were really able men.

On the other hand, when it becomes necessary to pass judgment upon the Puritans the influences of the present day are too strong to permit the retention of a vestige of the filial eulogy once customary. People simply do not like Puritanism and no longer respect it. It is more remote from the present, more difficult to appreciate than the spirit of the discoverers, the explorers, or the buccaneers. Probably no more difficult task is imposed upon the historical imagination than that of representing the Puritan state of mind in the seventeenth century without caricature or repugnance. It is not surprising, then, to find in the works of Avery, Tyler, Andrews, or James a visible lack of sympathy with the essentially Puritan and Calvinistic features of Massachusetts Bay, and to meet with undisguised condemnation when we read of the persecution of Antinomians or Quakers. In the words of Mr. James they regard their conduct as “beyond measure of excuse or condemnation.”

But Mr. Channing, who manifests no sympathy whatever with the bigotry of the Puritans, makes two points clear which the other writers scarcely notice. It should be recognized that the laws concerning religion were much the same in nearly all the colonies and in England at one time or another, so that the attention focused upon the behavior of Massachusetts has given that colony an altogether undue prominence. Moreover, the Calvinistic faith practically obliged the Puritans to adopt a policy of compulsion, and in this they were, if no better than all other sects except Quakers, at least no worse, and they were honestly conscientious. The consciences of the Puritans, observes Mr. Channing, should be given some consideration as well as those of their victims. It certainly cannot be ideally fair history which leaves as the last word an unsympathetic narrative and a moral condemnation.

When we turn from the matter of these new histories to consider the manner in which facts are treated, we find a striking contrast to older general works. The two centuries ending with 1660 were the age of romance in American history, the years over which older writers lingered fondly. Adventure in all its forms shed its magic over them. Everywhere men of diverse nations and characters, from motives material or ideal, good or bad, rushed into the unknown; fighting, struggling, dying, showing fiendlike or saintly heroism. From the misty figures of the Norsemen to the mailed Spaniards, the reckless English, the devoted Puritans, the daring French traders and Jesuits, an unending succession of dramatic, bloody incidents and stories comes to us. Over and around all brooded the darkness and mystery of the primitive forest which stubbornly withstood intrusion, and baffled uncounted hundreds of invaders; while in the path of every adventurer rose the painted, doubtful faces of the puzzled Indians, whose first fickle friendship always changed to a bitter hostility, making the life of Spaniard, Frenchman, or Englishman a constant struggle with an invisible, merciless enemy. To the elder writers — Bancroft, Fiske, Parkman — it was an age of great heroic figures looming large, men like Columbus, Magellan, Cartier, Champlain, Hudson. Stout hearts and devoted lives founded colonies — such as Smith and Dale, Bradford and Standish, Winthrop and Endicott, whom pride of ancestry exalted to more than human proportions and virtues.

Now all is changed. In these new works the brilliant colors and stern romance of the early centuries have faded to a pale glow; not one of the writers except Mr. Chancellor follows the old-time methods or seeks the old-time ends; the drama and the pageantry have vanished. Each work is written in a careful, lucid style occasionally brightened with an adjective, but never enthusiastic, never eulogistic, never rising above the preoccupation of truthful statement. The anecdote is gone, there is no room for it; and its exact veracity is too open to question. Only where the author quotes from the narratives of explorer or settler do we feel a touch of the old-time magic. Almost never does any author frankly display anything resembling hero-worship, and as for the filial magnification of the colonial fathers, — Pilgrim or other, — that, too, is gone forever.

The illustrations indicate the same change. We no longer find imaginary pictures of the explorers floating on unknown rivers ; we no longer are shown the dramatic events, the sufferings and struggles of the settlers, the meetings of Europeans and Indians. Now only authentic images appear. Old portraits stare gravely at us, misshapen maps show us how the ill-informed and imaginative men of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries guessed at the new regions; medals and relics and reproductions of early contemporary prints fill out the list. But one of the volumes, not avowedly popular in aim, that of Mr. Avery, admits imaginative drawings in the shape of effective symbolical chapterheadings.

What do we gain from the new histories to fill the void left by the stepping out of romance ? In the first place we gain a sense of reasoned cause and effect, for each one of these works aims at making events logical and clear. We know why things happened. In seeking causes, writers go back of the personalities of the settlers to larger reasons. The connection of the life of Spanish, French, or English colonists with the life of the home country, and the influence of European international and domestic politics is clearly brought forward. Economic facts are dwelt upon with a new emphasis. We hear less of the doings of particular men and women, but we learn far more of how the mass of colonists found their food and earned a living. Above all, the institutions of the settlers are analyzed with fullness and insight. Government finds the first place in such a volume as Tyler’s or Andrews’s of the American Nation Series, to almost the same extent as in Mr. Osgood’s professedly institutional history.

It is dry, undeniably dry. History written in this way is more true than the older history, but its color is dull, and its mystery gone. Yet this cannot be the whole truth; for in the lives of explorers and settlers it is clear that economic and institutional facts wholly failed to destroy the sense of adventure. In the reaction toward actual truth and away from sentimental or partisan or filial history, the emphasis has come to be placed mainly upon the prosaic and material side of colonial growth; but the mental life of Spaniard, Puritan, Virginian, or Jesuit missionary, the thoughts and feelings of these people about themselves, their surroundings and their dangers, were no less real than the ways they tilled the soil or slaughtered the savages. They must in some future historian’s pages be recreated, beside economic, legal, and political facts, to revive for us the true picture of the days of adventure and wonder.