Now for the Muse-ick

I can start playing the Music now (get it? Muse-ick?) :-)

The fun of musing about history is that between the lines there are people who once had to live with  the fall-out inevitably created by the decisions of politicians, just as we do today. I last reviewed the known facts about the Chesapeake-Leopard affair -- at least as many of them as we need to know for my purpose, which is an exploration of the social environment in which this particular event occured, and what sort of people were witness to it.

The year is 1807. It is reported that the populace was hot for war. America had a navy! It had prevailed over the Barbary pirates just a year or two before (never mind that the pirates were beginning to rise from their defeat) -- a wonderful victory that probably went to most people's heads. What may have been overlooked by this aroused population was that a frigate is a lot smaller that a "ship-of-the-line" which carries three decks of large -- read enormous -- cannons and can blast any frigate out of the water, any time it can catch one. But the frigate, much maller and lighter, can outrun any ship-of-the-line, anytime, so instead of engaging one of these suckers, it cruises around looking for an enemy frigate and challenges that. This seems a little limiting, when you are talking about declaring war aginst the greatest naval force ever seen on the planet. What if England stationed a couple ships-of-the-line outside Boston, New York, Phuiladelphia and Charleston? The population would get pretty hungry pretty fast.

On the other hand, everyone knew that Britain had committed most of her fighting strength against Napoleon Hitler-Bonaparte, who was trying to take over Europe. Mighty as she was, it was unlikely she'd take her greatest asset out of the equation. (This, you may remember, fits into the picture the Muse drew about England's desperate need for sailors, hence the impressment issue.)

Then there was France, which had not been behaving nicely, either, and some people thought we ought to go to war with her, too. But, I suspect, even the man-on-the-street could figure out that the United States wasn't in a position to take them both on.

Now, let's consider the man on the street. He has not been independent of England for very long -- a little less than 25 years, many of them unpleasant until the states unhappily decided they'd have to give over some sovereignty to a centralized government if they were going to be able to borrow enough to pay the war debt and get the merchant marine up and running and money coming in. So subtract ten years --  and we have only 15. Fifteen years of republican government, headed first by George Washington (who probably should be canonized) and now by Thomas Jefferson, a man who champions our friend-on-the-street (though I am totally unclear about why). The aroused population is lamentably inexperienced in government by and for the people, and many members of it probably identify themselves as "former Englishmen". With plenty of experience in self-government, each state is well able to take care of its own business -- but the federal government? Who's kidding who?

Does this sound at all familiar?

Let's consider a few additional pieces of information, relative to life in our country in 1807. "Snail mail" was the order of the day, and snails then didn't move any faster than do snails today. Transatlantic communication took two months, as a rule, sometimes longer -- the War of 1812 was over two months before anyone on this side of the pond knew it. Andrew Jackson fought the British at New Orleans well after the peace treaty had been signed, unknown to either him or the enemy.

This also meant that travel from one town to another was very limited -- in many parts of the country (still clustered on the Atlantic seaboard, with 95% of it rural) -- some people didn't venture more than ten miles from home in their entire lifetime. If you think we have trouble, today, knowing that the media distorts the news, think about the man-on-the-farm. It seems unlikely that he got the straight scoop the first time around, and maybe not the second or third, either.

Next time we make music, let's dig a little further to discover who the American of 1807 was. Even if we're not 100% accurate (who's to know?) we can get a pretty good idea of his general inclination. In particular, I'm interested in the fact that the states (aggregates of Americans), newly entered into an untried social compact, had yet to form a clear idea of what it would mean to be subject to decisions reached by a virtually unknown central governing body, let alone the implications of membership in it.

What "being American" means today is a lot different than it was in 1807.