Book Review

Canada and the United States

This book is one of the most significant (and certainly most original) studies of American political history to appear in the last twenty years. The authors, Glenn C. Altschuler and Stuart M. Blumin, attack the widely held notion that the nineteenth century was a "golden age" of American politics, one in which Americans cared deeply about the issues, participated actively in party affairs, and voted to a degree unparalleled before or since.	1
Altschuler and Blumin challenge virtually every facet of this stereotype. To make their case, they focus on what they consider to be representative American towns: Greenfield, Massachusetts; Kingston, New York; Marietta, Ohio; Augusta, Georgia; Clarksville, Tennessee; Dubuque, Iowa; Opelousas, Louisiana; and, for the postbellum years only, Graham, Texas; Auburn, California; and Syracuse, New York. Compiling lists of party activists and analyzing their socioeconomic backgrounds, the authors conclude that a small number of very active politicos did most of the partisan organizing in these locales. Newspaper and diary accounts suggest to them that most party meetings were sparsely attended, usually by the same handful of enthusiasts, and that party leaders in these towns often had trouble convincing anyone to represent them at regional and statewide conventions. A survey of diaries and novels leads the authors to assert that Americans discussed and thought about politics far less frequently than political historians have imagined. When Americans did broach the subject of politics, they did so almost apologetically, knowing that it would annoy any but the most devoted partisans. Even the impressive voter turnout figures, Altschuler and Blumin argue, need to be reconsidered. Many voters knew nothing of the candidates or the issues and were unenthusiastic about casting ballots. They often did so only because of a sense of civic obligation, a desire to socialize with friends and neighbors, pressure from party activists who would not take "no" for an answer, or because they wanted the liquor, food, or (in later years) money that the parties offered to those who voted. So many Americans were unenthusiastic about politics because, the authors contend, their middle-class sensibilities clashed with the workings of a "rude republic."	2
Scholars who follow the latest trends in American political history will already be familiar with much of this. In 1997, the authors published long articles in both the Journal of American History and American Quarterly that laid out the book's thesis. But the additional detail and documentation provided here allow the reader to probe more deeply into the authors' evidence and methodology. The book's most important sources are newspapers, unpublished diaries, and manuscript collections, but because political enthusiasts edited newspapers, Altschuler and Blumin give special weight to diaries and the letters of non-politicos. Yet with the exception of three manuscript collections from the Historic Deerfield Library, every manuscript diary and correspondence collection that I could find cited in the footnotes (there is no bibliography) is from the library of Cornell University, where the authors teach. Cornell does have a fine collection, but it is dominated by material from western New York's small towns and villages. One wonders if urban diarists and letter writers might have discussed politics more often or differently. The best-known New York City diary of the period, for example, that of George Templeton Strong, overflows with discussions of politics. Strong was not a political activist, yet his diary makes constant reference to political affairs. This book would be more convincing had Altschuler and Blumin attempted a more thorough survey of diaries and manuscript collections.	. . .