One Would Like To Know Crevecoeur's Emotions On Finally
Reaching France And Joining His Father And Relatives At Caen.
One
would like to describe his romantic succour of five American seamen,
who had escaped from an English prison and crossed the Channel in a
sloop to Normandy.
A cousin of one of these seamen, a Captain
Fellowes of Boston, was later to befriend Crevecoeur's daughter and
younger son in the new country; that was after the Loyalists and
their Indian allies had destroyed the Farmer's house at Pine Hill,
after his wife had fled to Westchester with her two children, and
had died there soon after, leaving them unprotected. But all this
must, in nautical phrase, "go by the board," including the novel
founded upon the episode. Nor can we linger over Crevecoeur's entry
into polite society, both in the Norman capital and at Paris. Fancy
the returned prodigal - if one may so describe him - in the salon of
Madame d'Houdetot, Rousseau's former mistress! He was fairly
launched, this American Farmer, in the society of the lettres.
"Twice a week," he wrote, some years after, "I went with M. de
Turgot to see the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, his sister; and another
twice-a-week I went with him to the Comte de Buffon's. ... It was at
the table of M. de Buffon, it was in his salon, during long winter
evenings, that I was awakened once more to the graces, the beauties,
the timid purity of our tongue, which, during my long sojourn in
North America, had become foreign to me, and of which I had almost
lost command - though not the memory."
Madame d'Houdetot presented Crevecoeur to the families of La
Rochefoucauld, Liancourt, d'Estissac, Breteuil, Rohan-Chabot,
Beauvau, Necker; to the academicians d'Alembert, La Harpe, Grimm,
Suard, Rulbriere; to the poet-academician Delille. We have in the
Memoires of Brissot an allusion to his entrance into this society,
under the wing of his elderly protectress: -
"Proud of possessing an American savage, she wished to form him, and
to launch him in society. He had the good sense to refuse and to
confine himself to the picked society of men of letters."
It was at a later period that Brissot and Crevecoeur were to meet;
their quarrel, naturally, came later still.
Madame d'Houdetot did more than entertain the Farmer, whose father
had been one of her oldest friends. She secured his nomination as
Consul-General to the United States, now recognised by France; it
was at New York that he took up residence. Through the influence of
Madame d'Houdetot and her friends, he retained the appointment
through the stormy years that followed, though in the end he was
obliged to make way for a successor more in sympathy with the
violent republicanism of the age. Throughout the years of the French
Revolution, the ex-farmer lived a life of retirement, and, if never
of conspicuous danger, of embarrassment enough, and of humiliation.
We need not discuss those years spent at Paris; or the visits paid,
after the close of the Revolution, to his son-in-law and daughter,
for his daughter Frances-America was married to a French Secretary
of Legation, who became a Count of the Empire. Now he was in Paris
or the suburbs; now in London, or Munich. Five years of the Farmer's
later life were spent at the Bavarian capital; Maximilian
entertained him there, and told him that he had read his book with
the keenest pleasure and great profit too. He busied himself in
preparing his three-volume Voyage dans la Haute Pensylvanie (sic) et
dans l'Etat de New York, and in adding to his paper on potato
culture,[Footnote: Traite de la Culture des Pommes de Terre, 1782.]
a second on the false acacia; but his best work was done and he knew
it. Crevecoeur lived on until 1813, dying in the same year with
Madame d'Houdetot, who was so much his elder. He paid a worthy
tribute to that lady's character; perhaps we do her an injustice in
knowing her only for the liaison with Jean-Jacques. He died on
November 12, 1813: member of agricultural societies and of the
Academy (section of moral and political science), and of Franklin's
Philosophical Society at Philadelphia. A town in Vermont had been
named St. Johnsbury in his honour; he had the freedom of more than
one New England city. It is, none the less, as the author of Letters
from an American Farmer, published in 1782, and written, for the
most part, years before that date, that we remember him - so far as
we do remember.
IV
Much remains unsaid - much, even, of the essential. Some of the facts
are still unknown; others may be looked for in the biography written
by his great-grandson, Robert de Crevecoeur, and published at Paris
some eighty years ago. There is hardly occasion to discuss here what
Crevecoeur did, as consul at New York, to encourage the exchange of
French manufactures and American exports; or to tell of his packet-
line - the first established between New York and a French port; or
to set down the story of his children; or to describe those last sad
years, at home and abroad, after the close of his consular career.
There is no room at all for the words of praise that were spoken of
the Letters by Franklin and Washington, who recommended them to
intending immigrants as a faithful, albeit "highly coloured"
picture. We must let the writings of the American Farmer speak for
themselves: they belong, after all, to literature.
It was a modest man - a modest life; a life filled, none the less,
with romantic incident. All this throws into relief the beauty of
its best fruits. Crevecoeur made no claim to artistry when he wrote
his simple, heartfelt Letters; and yet his style, in spite of
occasional defects and extra flourishes, seems to us worthy of his
theme. These Letters from an American Farmer have been an
inspiration to poets - and they "smell of the woods."
In a prose age, Crevecoeur lived a kind of pastoral poetry; in an
age largely blind, he saw the beauties of nature, less through
readings in the Nouvelle Heloise and Bernardin's Etudes than with
his own keen eyes; he was a true idealist, besides, and as such
kindles one's enthusiasm.
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