The Shadow of Great Britain

596: Chapter 301 Shooting Incident 596: Chapter 301 Shooting Incident “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.

Irving.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say this, as I was already acquainted with the name Washington Irving before I met you.

Your ‘Sketch Book’ is written with great interest.”

Arthur greeted Irving with a smile on his face.

Although he was not the first American Arthur had met, Washington Irving was evidently much more famous in Britain than Samuel Colt.

Both “Blackwood’s,” which Disraeli detested, and “The Gentleman’s Magazine,” representing London taste, had published feature articles about this representative of American literature.

Sir Walter Scott, the leader of British historical literature, and Coleridge, representing the Lake Poets, had both lavished praise on the works of Washington Irving.

Even Oxford University had joined in the fray to exploit his popularity, conferring upon him an honorary Doctor of Civil Law degree, a symbol of the highest honor at Oxford.

Of course, the popularity of Irving owed partly to the quality of his writing, and partly to the strong sense of nostalgia expressed in his works, which resonated with these individuals.

Whether it be Scott or Coleridge, both were well-known conservative literary figures.

And Oxford University, which offered Irving the degree, was the very bastion of British conservatism.

Although Mr.

Irving never made his views explicitly known, one could see in every corner of his writing that he consistently believed American democracy was not the true progress of civilization but, rather, the decline of humanity.

In his view, with every step America took toward its democratic system, it also took a step toward the abyss of destruction.

In the democratic era promised by politicians to the electorate, there was no heaven brimming with milk and honey; guarding the gates of heaven were only a band of demagogues, speculators, and nouveau riches who beguiled the people’s hearts.

Irving was astonished to find that since America broke free from Britain and moved toward a democratic republic, the taxes paid by the American people to the government had not decreased; in fact, they were even higher than under the King’s rule.

To mock this fact, he stated through the mouth of a fictional character in the “Sketch Book”: He and the world around him seemed to be under some ludicrous spell; he never imagined living in an era of such upside-down morality, both pitiable and laughable.

The so-called revolution, waving the flag of equality and liberty, was nothing more than a new stage for vilely ambitious people.

The ignorant and blindly obedient masses would ultimately become mere tools for the profit-seeking politicians, like donkeys with apples tied in front of them.

The food seemed close enough, as if taking two more steps would fulfill their wishes.

But, sadly, other than the whip, the donkeys tasted nothing else.

Beyond his displeasure with the American government system, Irving also scoffed at the claims of “God bless America” and “God has given Americans the natural and lawful right to the lands of America.”

He called the squabbles of American political parties “the most amusing farce in history, even better than what is played in the New York theaters,” and in his “A History of New York,” he alluded to the Mayor of New York City and President Thomas Jefferson, referencing historical massacres of Indians by Dutch colonists to indicate that Jefferson’s Westward Expansion was not as progressive as his oratory suggested; the Americans brought not civilization to the West, but war, exploitation, disease, and slaughter.

Moreover, he often criticized America’s founding stock—the Puritans exiled to North America by England—both openly and surreptitiously.

In Irving’s writings, the Puritans residing in New England were all depicted as misanthropes and persecution fanatics, whose ancestors were committed to killing heretics and burning witches and whose descendants not only preserved this destructive tradition but, thanks to their numerical advantage, intensified it by continuing to enforce religious persecution under the guise of religious freedom.

It could be said that Irving had touched on three of America’s most sensitive issues since its founding: the Revolutionary War, the Puritans, and the Indians.

If Irving had merely limited himself to satire, it is unlikely that he would have attained his present stature.

After all, though Britain found the rebellious colonists of North America uncomfortable, mocking the French was clearly more satisfying than insulted those uneducated country bumpkins.

In 1815, tired of the verbal battles with opponents in newspapers and magazines due to repeatedly touching on sensitive issues for Americans, Mr.

Irving, guided by the principle “if one place doesn’t cherish me, there are others that will,” decisively fled to Britain for a change of scenery.

After arriving in England, his mood also became much calmer.

By his own admission, unlike most people, his taste was always for “old over new.” In London, he could finally escape America, a country lacking historical heritage, escape the coarse and filthy air of New York, and immerse himself in the study of ancient European art.

Compared to Colt, who despised the two-faced American literati the most, Irving’s greatest virtue lay in his consistency in words and actions.

Since relocating to Europe fifteen years before, Irving had entered a period of prolific writing.

He was keen on depicting the old customs of rural life, trying to glimpse the scenery of bygone days through these traditional cultures.

And of course, glorifying the pastoral life and mourning the rural landscapes lost to the industrial era naturally resonated with the mainstream British poetry scene and the clergy, who held similar views.