University of Virginia Library

LETTER LXIX.

MAJOR DOWNING'S OFFICIAL COMMUNICATION
TO THE CABINET.

Read to the Cobinet, and majors, auditors, and undersecretaries,
and sub-postmasters, and the rest of the
Government, on 26th day of December, A. D. 1833
—and printed for the use of all the citizens from
Downingville to New Orleans, along the sea coast,
and up the Missippi and Missouri, and so down the
Lakes, and across by the Erie Canal to Albany, and
along by the midde rout over New Jersey, Pensylvany,
and Maryland, to Washington—and away agin to
all parts of creation, and to every body.

Gineral—and Gentlemen of the Cabinet, and the
rest on you here present, composin the Government—
I speak to you as a man standin right between you and
the people—what I am goin to say aint calculated to
make any on you change your opinion, so much as to
make you know mine—you have pretty much all on you

had your turn, and now comes my turn—if any thing
I say has sharp corners and scrapes the skin a leetle,
it is because I haint had time to file the edges smooth.
I'll give you my notions pretty much as you ged bread
from the Bakers, and leave you to slice it or chunk it
as best suits you; and every man can butter his own
slice just to please his fancy—that aint my business so
much as it is hisn.

We are met here not only to fix on some plan to get
the country out of trouble, but to see how it got into
trouble; and I am goin to say a little on both pints.
When a chimbley smokes at the rong eend with the
wind at the north east, some folks may content themselves
with openin windows and doors, to let the smoke
out, but my notion is that the safest plan is to see into
the cause on't, and correct it—so that the chimbley
will only smoke at the right eend, let the wind blow
any way.

Now there is a few things we must look into a little,
and then we will know more about em, and I am goin
to examine—

What kind of a critur the bank of the United States
raly is.

Whether its nature is to do good or evil to the country,
and then wind up with

Matters and things in general.

Twenty years ago the country was in trouble, and
fill'd up with all kinds of bank paper—nigh upon as
bad as old Continental—and a good deal was a little
worse. If any body aint old enuf to remember that
time, and wants to see what kind of money I mean, let
him go to the Treasury, and Mr. Taney can show him
nigh a million and a half of dollars, not worth the cost
of the paper and ink used every year in makin a report
on't—but this is ony a drop compar'd to what would
be now there of the same kind of stuff if it had'nt been
for the Bank of the United States. All our wise
folks of that day said we must have a Bank of the United
States, and a good big one. One strong enuf to do the

work well, and to clear out all this trash—and so this
Bank was made, and the first thing was, as there was
a very little rale money in the country, the Bank, went
and bo't a good jag on't in Europe, and went to work
here clearin away jest as we do our fields in the
Spring.

It was a pretty dirty job to do so I tell you, and the
Bank did'nt get through with it without scratchin and
smuttin its fingers pretty considerable; and that warn't
the worst on't for the Bank. The Government made
the Bank agree to pay fifteen hundred thousand dollars
for the privilege of doing this work, and made it agree
to take care of the people's money in all parts of the
country, and to pay it here and there wherever the
Government told 'em to pay all the pensions, and to
do every thing in the money way without chargin any
thing for it to the Government. This was a pretty tuff
bargain for the Bank—for all it got in return was to
have the keepin of the money, and when the Government
did'nt want it the Bank might lend it out. It
took a good many years afore the Bank got things to
work smooth. It was like a whappin big waggon that
wanted a good many horses to drag it, and as it had a
valuable freight in it, it wanted none but the best kind
of horses—real Conestogas—and it warnt every one
who knew how to drive such a team. The owners of
this waggon found that out—for some of the first that
they got came plagy nigh oversetting it. So to rights
they got Squire Biddle. I suppose they thought that
seein that the folks in Pennsylvany have the best and
strongest horses and the biggest waggons, they ought
to know best how to guide 'em. Well, they made a
pretty good guess that time—for ever since they told
the Squire to take the lines, they haint lost a linchpin
or broke a strap; and there warnt no complaints made
agin him by the folks on the road, or the country.

All the other waggoners liked the Squire amazingly,
he was always ready to give 'em a lift when he found
them in the mud, and whenever they got short of provender,

the Squire never refused to turn out some of
his to keep their horses from suffering. Every thing
was goin on better and better, and every body said at
home and abroad there warnt such a team in all creation.
Well, about four years ago we began to pick a
quarrel with the Squire, and its been goin on every year
pretty much after this fashion. The first go off some
of our folks wanted the Squire to change some of his
leadin horses—they said the breed warnt right—he
ought to put on the lead some Albany trotters—that
they were the best horses on the lead he could have.
The Squire did'nt like to change----he said the horses
he had, knew the road as well as he did, and they
would'nt bolt nor kick up, and when they came to up
hill work he could depend on 'em.

Then again our folks wanted the Squire to change
harness—they said they had new patent collars, and a
horse could pull as much agin with 'em as with the
old fashion'd collars. Well the Squire didn't like that
notion nother. So to the rights they told the Squire
he must give up the lines—well that he wouldn't do he
said, without orders from the owners of the teams—
they had appointed him, and so long as they kept him
there, he would go along and do his duty, jest he had
done—and it warnt right to keep stoppin him everyday
on the road, and trying to make him try new plans.

And with that, all our folks made a regular battle on
the squire—some took away out of his waggon a part of
the bags and boxes, and divided it round among the
drivers of others waggons, who was mixin in the scuffle
too, and away they crack'd off with it. Some
undertook to cut the squire's traces, they thought they
was only leather and rope traces; but the squire was
too deep for 'em, for his traces was all chains kivered
with leather, and so they spilt their jack-nives. Some
went on a-head and rolled stones in the road, and dug
deep holes, and tried all they could to make the square
upset, and threw stones and mud at him and his horses,
but the squire kept on his horses didn't flinch, and as

they had drag'd the big waggon over worse roads in the
day, they went along without accident. Well now it
turns out that all the waggons that drove off so with a
part of the squire's load are in trouble, for the first
piece of muddy road, they all stuck fast, and there they
are now. One wants the other to give him a pull and a
lift; but they say they all want lifting—the squire has
just come up with 'em, and now they want him to hitch
on to 'em and drag 'em all out together; but he says
that's impossible, the most he can do is to take back the
load they took from his waggon, and then perhaps they
can git out of the mud; but it is more than his team
can do, and he wont run the risk of breakin his harness
or injure his horses to drag 'em all out together. Well
now that's just about the condition of things, and the
longer they remain so, the worse it will be—the longer
horses and waggons stand knee and hub deep in mud,
the less able they'll be to git out on't.

And I'll leave 'em there a spell, and we'll take a look
into the natur of the Bank, and what it really is, for
to hear some folks about it, one would think it was a
most shocking monster, and that it was pretty much
nothin else but squire Biddle, when it is no more the
squire than that big waggon is, not a grain more. Look
at this long list of names; well these are the owners of
the Bank—here we see in the first place the nation owns
one-fifth, and the rest is scattered round, as you see
here, among an everlastin batch of folks all about this
country, and some in forin countries; and I am glad
to see on the list here old widows and old men, and
trustees of children, who haint got no parents livin and
all our own people, they put their mony in the stock
of this Bank for his safe keeping—not to speculate—
and just so with the innocent foreigners, and the best
on't is they have paid our tolks a pretty high premium
for every dollar on't—well these are folks then that
compose the Bank.

Now what do they want this Bank managed?—the
business of the Bank is to loan money, and is jest for

all the world like any rich man whose business is to
loan out his money; is it his interest to dabble in politics
or to let politicians dabble with him? not an atom
on't. I never knew one of your rale politicians who
ever could pay his debts, and they aint the kind of folks,
people like to deal with any who may have got money
to loan; they know that talking politics, and gettin
things into snarls jest to answer party purposes aint the
way to pay interest nor principal nother, and politicians
in a Bank are the worst folks in the world for
the owners of the Bank, for the most on 'em haint got
mony of their own to lend, but they are plagy ready to
loan other folks' money to brother politicians of the
same party.

No no, a man who has got his mony loan'd out (and
its jest so with a Bank) want to see every body busy
and industrious and mind their business and increase
their property, for then they will be able to pay interest
and principal too; they dont like to see things all
mixed up with politics and people quarrellin and disputin,
and when they do, they git the money back in
their pockets agin as soon as they can, for they know
that politics aint profitable business.

Then it comes to this, that if the Bank is what I have
said it is (and its nothin else,) it aint such a monster
as some folks try to make us think it is, instead of
being a dangerous monster. I see and I know every
body else must see, who dont squint at it, but looks it
strait in the face; that its natur is jest like the natur of
any man who has got property in the country, and that
is to have every thing go on in harmony and with industry
and honesty and accordin to law; no jangles
and tangles and talkin politics in porter houses and bar
rooms, hurrain for this man, and pulling down that
man; that kind of work dont clear up new lands nor
plough up old ones, it dont keep the hammer goin, and
the wheels turnin; and dont pay interest nor principal
nother.

But some on you say the bank has too much power,
and that Squire Biddle might do a good deal of mischief
if he would. Well, there is my old friend. Capt.
Elihu S. Bunker, of the steam-boat President, runnin
betwixt New York and Providence—he's got about sich
another monster—there is no tellin what a “dangerous
monopoly” of power that crittur got in that are boat.
I was lookin into it when I came on with him a spell
ago, and he was showin me how he managed it. If he
was to fasten down the kivers of them two mortal big
copper kettles he has got in his boat, and blow his bellesses
a spell, he would smash every thing for more
than 50 acres round—Does any body want to know
why he don't do it—he has been in a steam-boat as
long now as the bank's been goin and haint scalded no
body—but he can do it in a minit if he chuses—well I'll
tell you why he don't—it aint his interest and he don't
own no more of the boat than Squire Biddle does of the
bank—the owners of the boat employ him to manage it
because they know he understands his business. He
knows if he didn't watch over their interest they'd turn
him out—and jist so the owners of the bank would sarve
Squire Biddle. And that aint all, Captain Bunker
knows if he hurts any body with his boat he'd run a
chance of hurtin himself too—he knows too that it is the
interest of his owners not to have any accidents aboard
any boat—for if people git scalded in one steam boat,
they'll keep clear of all on 'em—and though some folks
think banks aint like steam boats I can tell 'em that in
the main thing they are exactly alike—for unless folks
have got confidence in 'em and feel safe in 'em they aint
worth ownin—but when they all go on and meet no accidents,
they are pirty good property—and the largest,
and strongest, and cleanest, and quietest, and best
managed git the most business. Now I think that's
enuf about dangerous monopolies for a spell.

Let us now see what the bank is about, and what we
've been about.

Deacon Goodenou—Has been in that bank as one of

its directors off and on ever since it was a bank, and I
have heard him say 50 times, (and he's a man to be depended
on) he never heard a word about politics in it
till about 4 years ago---and it all came from our sendin
every year since that time, some rale politicians to help
the other 20 directors to manage the bank---the first go
off, the deacon says, they thought best to keep quiet,
and make no stir about it; for it was pretty much like
finding skunks in the cellar---the best way was to let
'em alone, if they'd keep there, and run the chance of
their goin out when they found there warn't no eggs to
suck---but when they undertook to cum up chamber
and smell about in all the cupboards, it was time to
snub 'em---and then came trouble; and that's jist about
the way now; and the deacon says, and he is about
right, that politicians in a bank are jist as bad as
skunks in the cellar---there aint one grain of difference.

Some on you say we dont want a bank now---well
that may be so---but when I got up this mornin it was
plagy chilly till I got my coat on---now I am warm and
it may be I dont need a coat---but I think if I take my
coat off I'll feel chilly agin---and I am so certing of this
I wont make a trial ont.

Some on you say the owners of this bank haint got
no right to a recharter---they have had it long enuf--
and its time now to have a new shuffle and cut---well
that aint my notion and I'll tell you why---tho' this
bank was chartered for twenty years---it had a good
right to believe we would renew its charter if it be
haved well and did as duty---jist as a congressman has
a right to expect his constituents will send him to congress
agin if he behaves well---and its a good way to-keep
folks strait and make em do their duty---but if we
are to knock this bank down and have a new shuffle
and cut, then I say that them folks who make money
out of a rise of stock in the new bank, ought to pay the
loss that all these old folks and young children will suffer
by nocking down the old bank---to say nothin about
the innocent foreigners who put their money in this

bank; thinkin it was safe. And let me tell you another
thing---the longer a bank stands, and the older it
gits, the better folks abroad and at home like it---people
who have got money to lend don't like changes---
and particularly government changes. Would any on
you like to lend folks money in South America? and
do you think any of them governments could make a
bank that folks would have any confidence in? I dont
think they could---jist because they keep choppin and
changin every year.

Will any on you say that it aint a good thing for a
country to make folks all about think it is a safe one to
lend mony to? aint good credit worth nothin?

Well, how does any man in trade git credit, and
make folks think him safe to trust? Will he break up
his stand every year, and change his business, and try
new plans? I say that aint the way, and no man ever
prospered after that fashion; but when he finds things
go well with him, he hang on; or else he haint got no
wit in him.

Now, my notion is, that none on us alone can make
folks all about creation think we are safe folks to trust.
But all on us together can do so; and that is the reason
a good big bank can manage this for us. Folks
abroad know the bank; and the bank know us; and
so we can manage things through the bank better than
we can alone.

Some on you say it aint right to pay interest to foreigners---that
when we git money from foreigners, they
keep drainin us of interest. Well, that is all chalk and
water. Now I know we have got an everlastin new
country to clear up yet; and if an honest industrious
man can git a few hundred dollars lent to him, he can
go and buy a good many acres, and clear it up, and
sell it to these very foreigners, who are all the while
coming out here to settle among us, and they pay fifty
times more for it than the land first cost; and so our
folks go on borrowin, and can well afford to pay interest,
and find themselves in a few years with money to

lend too. And as long as this business goes on, I for
one am willing to say to foreigners, as the Cape Cod
fisherman says to the fish, when he gets on the hook.
and is pullin him in---“So long as you hold on one
eend, I will t'other.” But folks abroad who have money
to lend, don't know our folks who go on new land:
and a good many on old land nother. But they know
our bank, and our canals, and rail-roads, and we sell
'em the stock, and make 'em pay good premiums too:
and our folks can lend their money to our farmers.

But if we go on, and nock down this bank when its
charter is out, and bring trouble on the country, foreigners
say, “Aha! there's trouble there!”---back they
come with their stock, and git their mony, and keep
it; and all our prosperity is nock'd in the head!
We charter'd this bank for 20 years; and so we do
canal companies, and rail-road companies; but did
we mean when the time was up, to nock 'em all up
too, and say we don't want no bank, nor a canal,
nor a rail-road? It aint common honesty to say so;
and I won't shuffle and cut with you after that fashion;
for make what I might by a new shuffle, I
would be asham'd to look one of these innocent foreigners
in the face---to say nothin of this long list
of widows, and orfans, and trustees of estates, and
old folks, many on em, when they bought the stock at
a high premium, I suppose never thought about the
charter, or how long it had to run but trusted to the
government. And now if you can chizzle them out of
their property, as you will by puttin down this bank,
jest to git a new shuffle and cut at a new one---without
turnin as red as a beet when you meet em, I for one
say I can't, and I won't.

And now I'm most done---if I have trod on any one's
toes, it aint so much my fault as hisen; for I tread the
the strait line, and tread ony on toes that stick out beyond
the line, and that's too often the case with folks
now-a-days in offices.

I've telled you now pretty much my notions; and

I tell you for the last time you have made a mistake,
and that's no disgrace to any man unless he tries to
stick to it after he knows he has made it. If you
don't know how to git the country out of the scrape
you've got it in, the people will tell you pretty quick, or
I aint no hand at guessin. I have now done my daty.
If the people don't do theirn it aint my fault. If they
say my notions are right they 'll act on em; if they say
they are wrong, then things will go on as they now go,
and I hope they won't git worse---but that I wont promise.
If things come to the worst, I shall suffer as
little as any on em, for I haint got no wife and children
to support (and I am sorry for those who have, if
things are to go as they now go,) I can cut my fodder
pretty much any where.

But I love my country, every acre on't, and it goes
agin my grain to see any part on't suffer. And I know
all this suffering comes from party polities---this same
party politics that has driv all our wisest and best men
out of office; and now to keep together wants to get
hold of the big wagon and all the money in it.

My dander is up, and I best stop now---for the more
I think on't, and the more I write about it, the more
wrathy I git. So no more at present,