THE AMERICANS AT HOME.
VOL. II.
Edinburgh : Printed by Thomas and Archibald Constable,
FOR
EDMONSTON AND DOUGLAS.
LONDON HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO.
CAMBRIDGE MACMILLAN AND CO.
GLASGOW ... . JAMES MACLEHOSE.
THE
AMERICANS AT HOME
PEN-AND-INK SKETCHES OF AMERICAN MEN
MANNEES AND INSTITUTIONS.
BY
DAVID MACRAE.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. IT.
EDINBURGH:
EDMONSTON AND DOUGLAS.
1870.
[All rigltts reset ved.]
Ififi
/. 2-
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PAGE
I. -THE EMANCIPATED WHITES, ... 1
II.— NEGRO DOMINATION, . ..13
III.— SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO, . , 21
IV.— INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS, . 32
V.— THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS, ... 48
VI.— NEGRO PECULIARITIES, .... 72
VII.— BLACK CHRISTIANITY, .... 90
VIII.- ADMIRAL SEMMES, 118
IX.— NEW ORLEANS, 130
X.— ODD CUSTOMS, 143
XL— UP THE MISSISSIPPI, ..... 154
XII.— WESTERN NOTES, 168
XIII.— THE LIGHTNING CITY, . .. . .189
XIV.— ANNA DICKINSON, ..... 208
XV.— RAILWAY TRAVELLING, . . . .215
XVI.-THE HUB, 224
XVII. -HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS, . 236
XVIII.— WENDELL PHILLIPS, . . „... 247
vi 9 CONTENTS.
PAGE
XIX.— VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON, . 256
XX.— AN EVENING WITH EMERSON, . . .270
XXI.- NEW ENGLAND, 279
XXII.— BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES, . . 286
XXin.-JOHN B. GOUGH, 295
XXIV.— DRINKING HABITS, . . . .304
XXV.— LIQUOR LAWS, . . . 312
XXVI.— AT HARTFORD, 320
XXVII.— AMERICANISMS, ... .329
XXVIII.— CANADIAN WINTER, . . . .339
XXIX. -THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS, . . 347
XXX.— A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS, . . .355
XXXI.— NEWSPAPERS, 369
XXXII.— CHURCHES, ...... 375
XXXIII.— FREE SCHOOLS, . 387
I.
THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
NOTWITHSTANDING the loss to which Emancipation
has subjected the Southern people, and the agony of
the process by which it was accomplished, I scarcely
met a single man or woman who expressed regret that
slavery was gone. The South feels like a man who has
been subjected against his will to a severe operation —
an operation which he thought would kill him, which
has terribly prostrated him, from which he is still
doubtful if he will completely recover, but which being
fairly over, has given him prodigious relief.
The anti-slavery agitation turned attention so exclu
sively to the burdens which the system fixed upon the
slave, that few have considered the burdens which it
fixed also upon the slaveholder, and the trying position
in which latterly it placed him. The ownership of
slaves involved a very serious responsibility. This was
specially felt by those masters and mistresses who
realized that the negroes, so entirely committed to their
charge, were beings with souls as well as bodies, for
whose moral condition, therefore, they were largely
responsible. But even on the man who looked upon
his negroes as only so many working animals or cotton-
picking machines, slavery imposed burdens from which
the employer of free labour is exempt. With us, if a
VOL. II. A
2 THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
servant does not please she is dismissed ; if a workman
meets with an accident, or takes ill, the loss falls on
himself; he loses his wages, and has to pay for his
doctor. If a mill-owner finds trade dull, he can put
his hands on half-time, and so curtail his expenditure ;
if matters get worse, he can shut up his mill altogether
and wait for better times, leaving the workers to look
out as best they can for themselves.
The slaveholder had no such simple resource as this.
His slaves were his property, and if humanity and self-
interest were not sufficient to make him provide for
them, the law compelled him. He had to feed his
slaves day by day all the year round ; he had to keep
them in clothing ; he had to provide medical attend
ance for them in sickness ; he had to support them in
old age ; and every worker who died or ran away was
a dead loss to him of from 500 to 1500 dollars. At
slack seasons, or bad seasons, when perhaps he was
losing instead of making money, he had still to support
his negroes unless he sold them, which, at such seasons,
he could scarcely expect to do without heavy loss.
During the late war, though almost everything in the
South was at a stand-still, the planters and tobacco-
factors had to provide support for all their slaves as
usual, while our employers had turned their operatives
off, and were waiting till it should pay to take them on
again.
Let it also be borne in mind, that the slaveholder
could not confine himself, like the employer of free
labour, to such hands as best suited his purpose.
When buying a slave he could select his man, but those
born on his property he had to take as they came, good,
bad, or indifferent. If they grew up wild and insubor-
CHASING RUNAWAYS. 3
dinate, he had to try and tame them ; if they were lazy
and stupid, he had to work them up, as best he could,
to some degree of usefulness. In both cases he had to
put up with negroes who were a burden and a loss to
him, and who, under the free-labour system, would
simply be turned off. Of course he had the power to
sell them, but the very qualities that made them worth
less to him tended to make them worthless and un
saleable to others. Besides this, it must be remembered
that the slaveholders had human feelings like ourselves.
Many of them were exceedingly attached to their slaves,
and never sold them when they could possibly avoid it.
In innumerable instances they retained slaves that were
utterly useless, simply in order to prevent them falling
into cruel hands, or because it would have involved the
separation of husband from wife, or parent from child.
But the mere maintenance of their slaves was a light
burden to thoughtful and Christian people in the South,
compared with the means they had to adopt to main
tain the system and keep their slaves in order. The
planter, or tobacco-factor, had to manage his negroes as
a country schoolmaster manages his school. If any of
them, whether male or female, were lazy or unruly, he
had to whip them. The owner, if a man of kindly feeling,
did not like this, but he saw no alternative. He could
not turn a slave off as he can now turn off a hired
workman ; he could not permit him to neglect his task,
or show insubordination ; therefore he had recourse to
the lash.
When a slave ran off he sent after him, as a man
would send after a runaway horse, or a parent after a
runaway boy. It was not only that the slave was by
4 THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
law his property, and had cost him perhaps a thousand
dollars. This was one incentive, but not the strongest.
He had to consider the effect that the escape of one
slave would have upon the others. A planter gave
me this case from his own experience, and it represents
thousands of others. " I had one ungovernable slave,"
he said, " who made several attempts to escape. He
was of so little use to me that I would not have cared
two straws for the loss of him, though he had cost me
800 dollars ; but he had been influencing some of the
other slaves, and inciting them to run away with him.
I knew that if I allowed that rascal to get off, others
would follow — I should lose some of my best hands,
and be kept in constant trouble. So I set the dogs after
him and hunted him through the swamp for nearly a
week till I got him. I had him tied up then in sight
of the other hands and lashed. I had ultimately to
send him to New Orleans to be sold ; and I told the
others I would do the same with them if they tried the
same tricks. Now, sir," said this planter, " you will say
I was cruel. Well, perhaps I was ; but I tell you, sir,
I never whipped one of those slaves but I seemed to
feel it as much as they did. Sometimes I felt it so
much, that if it would have served the purpose I would
have taken the whipping myself. But it had to be
done, sir — it had to be done ! We could not have main
tained the system — we could not have kept order for a
single day with some of them but for the lash."
An overseer in the State of Alabama told me this
incident : — " One day I was flogging a slave for theft
in presence of a number of others. The fellow broke
away, and, picking up a bar of wood, flung it at me.
The boss (employer) was standing near. He instantly
REPRESSING EDUCATION. 5
took a pistol from his pocket, and said, handing it to
me, ' Shoot him !' I hesitated to do it, so the boss shot
the man himself. He was badly hurt, but not killed.
That night the boss sent for me to the house, and said,
' , if that man gets better we must sell him. One
man like that is enough to spoil a whole gang/ And
yet," said the overseer, " he was as kind a master to
them that behaved as any I saw in these parts."
I asked him if he thought such severity was neces
sary. " Yes, sir," he said, " it couldn't be done without.
These cases were very rare ; but when a nigger got
bumptious, we had to teach him who was master. But
I am glad that business is over."
Another measure exceedingly distasteful to many of
the Christian people of the South, but deemed neces
sary to the maintenance of slavery, was the withholding
of education from the black people, making it an offence
punishable by law for any one to teach a slave to read
or write. Conversing on this subject with the Rev. Mr.
Girardeau of Charleston, he said, " Some of us would
gladly have given education to the negroes, but it .was
found that slavery and education did not work together.
The Abolitionists of New England were doing their best
to excite the slaves to discontent. If we had taught
them to read, the incendiary writings of these Abolition
ists would have been scattered broadcast amongst them,
exciting insubordination and anarchy, ending in a colli
sion between the black and the white races which would
have been fatal to the blacks. Such at least was the
general feeling, and we shut the door against all this
by prohibiting the slaves to be taught. But, for my
own part," he said, " I was never in favour of these laws,
and our people would not have passed them if they
6 THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
had not felt it to be necessary for the security of our
system of labour."
Professor Woodrow of Columbia bore testimony to
the same effect. He said, " The Presbyterian Church
in the South agitated for the permission of negro educa
tion, but without success. The opinion of the public
was, that it would endanger slavery."
The moral aspect of these measures depended of
course on the view taken of the natural and proper
position of the negro. If it was right to maintain
slavery, it was right to use the only means by which
slavery could be maintained. The slave-driver looked
upon the management of a negro as we look upon the
management of a horse. If the slave would not do his
duty he must be compelled to do it ; if he was lazy, or
stubborn, or disobedient, he must be whipped; if he
tried to escape he must be chased ; if he could not be
caught without bloodhounds, he must be caught with
bloodhounds ; if he was likely to run away again, he
must be shackled and branded with hot irons ; if he
became absolutely uncontrollable, he must be shot ;
and if it was found that education made him discon
tented with his divinely appointed place as the white
man's slave, education must be kept from him.
Granting the premiss that the negro had to be kept
in slavery, all this followed logically and as a matter of
course, and with this logic the Southern people tried to
satisfy themselves. But the almost irresponsible power
which was thus thrown into the hands of the slave
owner was often so shamefully abused, and many of
the means that were necessary to the maintenance of
slavery seemed so horrible, and the laws forbidding edu
cation seemed so grossly inconsistent with the widely
HATRED OF SLAVERY. 7
professed purpose of preparing the black race for higher
things, that multitudes of the thoughtful and Christian
people of the South were distracted with doubts as to
whether a system permitting so much evil, and re
quiring such measures for its maintenance, could in
itself be good. One eminent Southern clergyman said
to me, — " We saw its evils, sir ; we mourned over them :
but we could see no way of escape. Slavery had come
to us by inheritance ; it was bound up with the whole
social, commercial, and political system of this country.
It seemed as if to attempt to pull it down would be to
disorganize society, and bring upon ourselves and the
blacks far worse evils than we could abolish. But I
tell you, sir, I often prayed God to show us some way
out of our difficulty ; and now the thing is done — in
the worst way we could have had it — still it is done,
and I am glad that the ordeal is over."
The war will emancipate the Southern people from
another burden which was becoming year by year more
exasperating and intolerable — I mean the imiversal
odium which slavery was bringing upon them. To those
especially who were kind to their slaves, and had only
looked on the bright side of the institution, it was very
irritating when they went North or came to this coun
try, to find themselves identified in the public mind
with all that was basest and most infamous about the
slave system ; to find their motives misrepresented, and
their morality and Christian character suspected.
A Southern gentleman told me the following incident
as an illustration of what they had to bear : — A friend
of his who visited this country in 1850, was dining one
day in the house of a wealthy Scotchman, to whom he
8 THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
had introductions. In the course of conversation it hap
pened to be mentioned that he was a slaveholder, where
upon several of the ladies instantly rose and left the
table. " And yet," said my informant, " that gentleman
was a devout Christian, and as kind a master as ever
breathed — a man beloved by his slaves."
This was the feeling which the Southern people had
to encounter at every turn. The anti- slavery agitation
had brought into view all the darkest and most hideous
features of slavery, and had left upon multitudes of
people the impression that the Southern slaveholders
were a set of coarse and brutal ruffians after the
pattern of Simon Legree. This was intensely exasper
ating to the more refined and Christian of the Southern
people, who were thus made to suffer the shame and
infamy brought upon the system by its very worst
representatives. They complained bitterly of this in
justice, but self-vindication was impossible. They held
slavery to be right, and this allowed them to look on
the lash, the bloodhound, the branding-iron, the slave-
auction, and the laws prohibiting education, as neces
sary evils ; and on the wholesale gratification of lust
and passion under the absolute power granted to the
slave- owner, as simply abuses perpetrated by bad men
under an authority that had to be granted for a better
purpose. But the world had come to believe that
slavery itself was a wrong. All the atrocities, therefore,
perpetrated under its license, and all the repressive
measures adopted for its perpetuation, stood forth as
iniquities added to iniquity, making the whole system
hideous and indefensible. Hence the indignant re
monstrances and the vehement reproaches with which
the Southern churches and the Southern people were
SOUTHERN ENERGY EMANCIPATED. 9
constantly assailed. And yet what was the South to
do, if slavery was a divine and indispensable institu
tion — an institution with which the happiness and the
very existence of the black race in America was bound
up ? The war has rescued the South from this dis
tressing dilemma. It has not only swept away the
cause of alienation that threatened to cut her off hope
lessly from the sympathy and Christian fellowship of
the world; it has swept it away by force, so that if
emancipation does prove a disaster, the South feels that
she can wash her hands of the responsibility.
But the war has not only liberated the South from the
incubus of slavery ; it has pushed her into circumstances
that must arouse her energies as they never were aroused
before. The lazy luxury that was enervating her people
is no longer possible. She is poor, and must work if
she would live. The blacks are being educated by tens
of thousands — fifty thousand in Virginia alone being able
to read and write, who were slaves before the war — and
if the poorer whites are to hold their own against even
black competition, they must be educated too. More
over, the gates are open, Yankee and foreign enterprise
is coming in, and the Southern people will not, dare
not, for their own sakes, permit themselves to fall
behind in the race. The change is already perceptible.
I was told by professors in Southern colleges, and by
teachers in the white schools, that their students
and scholars were studying as they never did before the
war, feeling now the necessity for education. Every
where people were expressing their sense of the change.
" No more rest for us now," said one. " We have to
look sharp and not let these Yankees get the whip-
hand of us," said another. " We have to rise earlier
1 0 THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
now," said a third, " and work more, and work quicker,
than we used to do." The change seemed to be summed
up in an expression which met me constantly in the
South, " Yes, sir, we are getting Yankeeized."
The ruin caused by the war is accelerating the change,
by compelling many of the most cultured and aristo
cratic people in the South to enter the lists. This of
itself is enough to produce a revolution in Southern
feeling. Slavery tended to brand labour with degrada
tion : these men will help to put upon it the stamp of
nobility. General Lee advised his officers and men
wisely on this point. He foresaw the change that was
before the defeated South ; he perceived that her best
hope was to prepare herself for it without delay ; and
he accordingly urged his soldiers to cast aside all feel
ings of hostility engendered by the conflict, act as loyal
citizens, and apply themselves at once to honest work.
He himself, refusing the offers of pecuniary assistance
made to him by friends on both sides of the Atlantic,
addressed himself to the task of self-support; and I
was told at Eichmond that one of his sons, who held
the rank of major-general in the Confederate army,
drove into the city from his farm, a few weeks after the
surrender, with a waggon -load of hay. Examples of
this sort, backed up by the pressure of external circum
stances, can scarcely fail to launch the South upon a new
career; and when once the energies that amazed the
world during the late war are turned into the channels
of social and political progress, what is there too great
to expect of such a people in such a country ?
The war has accelerated the change in another way,
by bringing into the market the estates of impover
ished land-owners. White immigration is beginning to
SLOVENLINESS OF SLAVERY. 11
go in and buy up such lands ; the new State Govern
ments are also purchasing large portions to sell to the
freedmen. Thus the great landed estates, that formed
so marked a feature in the old South, are being broken
up, and smaller plantations and farms coming into ex
istence, causing a steady increase in the class of free
holders — an increase which seems likely to go on till
the power formerly wielded by the great land and slave
owners becomes absorbed by the middle class, assimi
lating in this respect the South to the North. White
immigration is also carrying in with it a variety and a
quality of labour destined to work a mighty change in the
whole aspect of the South. Hitherto she has been enabled
by the amazing fertility of her soil to show results, espe
cially in cotton-growing, that conceal her real backward
ness. In 1 859, two years before the war, her exports were
valued at 188 millions of dollars, but of this only 27
millions were not in cotton. Even in the cotton States
only 39 per cent, of the farm land was improved, and
of the improved land more than 17 million acres were
not in actual cultivation. Her whole system of agri
culture by slave labour has been lop-sided, wasteful,
and superficial, — the ground being rather skimmed
than cultivated. The same crop was often grown
upon it year after year till the strength of the land was
exhausted, when new ground was entered upon to be
scratched and exhausted in the same fashion. The
planters held vast tracts of land in retention for this
purpose, supporting a hundred people on an area that
would under free labour have been supporting a thou
sand. Farmers who were unable to cultivate more than
100 acres properly, scratched 200, and kept 300 or 400
more in wilderness. They confess all this themselves.
1 2 THE EMANCIPATED WHITES.
They showed me fields which never yielded more than
ten bushels of corn, to the acre, where the deep plough
would bring up twenty bushels at once, and thorough
tillage would soon bring forty. A planter in North
Carolina showed me fields of his own, out of which, he
said, a Scotch farmer would take thirty bushels to the
acre, but out of which he had rarely got more than five.
He also showed me fields lying waste and abandoned
for years, where proper culture and a rotation of crops
would have been yielding rich harvests every season.
Even what has been cultivated looks rough, ragged, and
unfinished. A Georgia plantation bears about the same
resemblance to a farm in the Lothians that a Highland
morass bears to a flower-garden. Fields that have been
under cultivation for half a century remain but half-
cleared, with the stumps of the primeval forest still
sticking out of the ground, and sometimes trunks of
fallen trees lying unremoved. " We give 'em time to
rot," said one planter.
Everywhere, arid in everything, slavery seems to have
been slovenly — in the house, in the factory, and in the
field. All this is destined to be changed. Farmers
are beginning to go in and are welcomed, who know
how to till the land so as to make the most of it, and
who will not only introduce improved machinery and
improved methods themselves, but will compel their
adoption by all others who would hold their ground
against this new competition.
In many respects, therefore, emancipation has liber
ated the Southern whites as much, and, perhaps, to even
better purpose, than it has emancipated the negroes.
ENFRANCHISING THE NEGROES. 13
II.
NEGRO DOMINATION.
WHILE the Southern people accept the abolition of
slavery as an inevitable consequence of the war — many
of them even with a sense of relief — they complain
bitterly of the conduct of the North in forcibly en
franchising the emancipated slaves, and at the same
time disfranchising so many of the old masters. The
governor of one of the Southern States said, — " These
after-claps, sir, are worse than the war itself. It is hard
enough to bear our poverty ; it is hard enough to have
our slaves taken from us without compensation; but
what we feel most keenly, is this attempt on the part
of the North to saddle us with negro rule." This I
found to be the almost universal feeling of the Southern
people.
It will certainly seem that the North is not very
clean-handed in the matter, when it is remembered,
that while she has forced negro suffrage upon the con
quered South, she still refuses to submit to it herself.
Some of the New England States grant the suffrage to
their few coloured citizens. Ohio, I think, permits a man
to vote if he can prove that fifteen- sixteenths of his blood
is white ; and New York allows a coloured man to vote
if he owns 250 dollars worth of taxable property. But
Pennsylvania refuses, Maryland refuses ; Delaware
14 NEGRO DOMINATION.
and New Jersey will not hear of it ; Illinois, Indiana,
Missouri, Iowa, Kansas, Wisconsin, Colorado, Nevada,
Oregon, and California, all reject negro suffrage for
themselves, and yet through Congress they force it
upon the South. This is, to say the least of it, a mon
strous inconsistency.1
So far as the enfranchisement of the Southern negroes
is concerned, it is easy to assign a political reason.
When the war was over, and the Southern States were
called upon to reconstruct themselves, they began to
nominate as their representatives men whose principles
had been notoriously hostile to the Government. The
North said, " This will never do. These States must
not come into the Union except on a loyal basis, and
as the white people will not elect loyal men, we must
allow the negroes to do it." Whereupon the negroes
were enfranchised, loyal delegates were elected, and the
Southern States reconstructed for the most part accord
ing to the mind of the North.
But if this was not a mere farce — if the people of the
North really deem the Southern negroes fit for the suf
frage, why do they deny that right to their own ? Surely
if negroes reared in the darkness of slavery be qualified
to vote, much more must those be who have been
brought up in freedom, and enjoyed the advantage of
education. And if the North deems it safe to enfran
chise the black people in the Southern States, where
1 I rejoice to say, that since these enfranchised throughout the whole
words were penned, the Fifteenth Kepublic. The North, by this act,
Amendment /to the Federal Consti- has nobly vindicated her sincerity
tution, securing the rights of citizen- in the eyes of the world, and has
ship to the coloured as well as to converted what looked like a mere
the white people, has been ratified political shift into a great act of
by three-fourths of the States, so justice to the coloured race. —
that practically the negro is now March 1870.
FALSE ALAEM. 1 5
they number four millions, forming a fourth, a ' third,
and in some places a half of the entire population, on
what possible pretext can she refuse to enfranchise the
300,000 that are scattered thinly over her own vast
area, amongst an overwhelming white population of
twenty or thirty millions ? If the black people ought
to have a vote, she is doing them in the North a gross
injustice ; if they ought not to have a vote, then she
has committed an unpardonable outrage upon the white
people of the South.
But if the North has allowed her prejudice against
the coloured man to expose her Southern policy to
suspicion, the South, on the other hand, has allowed
the exasperation of defeat to blind her judgment, and
absurdly exaggerate her fears. The idea of the negro
ruling the South is preposterous. Granting that he has
a vote, he is, even at present, in the minority. In the
Gulf States the black population amounted by last
census to about 45 per cent., in the border States to
about 30 per cent., and in Missouri to less than 12 per
cent. In round numbers the black population of the
entire South is four millions, the white population
twelve millions, enabling the whites to outvote the
blacks by three to one. Moreover, this preponderance
is likely henceforth to increase instead of diminish.
White immigration, which has so long been retarded by
the existence of slavery, will rapidly swell the bulk of
the white population. On the other hand, the increase
of the black population must to some extent diminish.
Under the slave system it stood at its maximum.
The slaves had neither to provide for themselves nor
their children. They therefore married young, and had
generally large families. Their owners encouraged this,
16 NEGRO DOMINATION.
for slaves were money, and increase in the number of
their slaves meant increase in wealth, and in social and
political importance. All this is altered now. The
Southern people declare, indeed, that the emancipated
negro cannot long endure beside the white man — that
already he is dying out. This assertion met me every
where — in Virginia, in the Carolinas, in the Gulf
States. One of the large landed proprietors in South
Carolina (Colonel Mackay) said that more black chil
dren had died since emancipation than had died for
twenty years before, when proper care had been taken
of them. Mr. Stoddard, of Savannah, one of the great
planters in Georgia, said that in that city upwards of
5000 negroes had died within five months after eman
cipation — a mortality tenfold greater than he had
known before. He believed the census of 1870 would
show a black population of less than three millions
where formerly there had been over four. At New
Orleans, General Beauregard said, " There are probably
500,000 fewer negroes in these Gulf States to-day than
there were in 1861. They are dying fast. In seventy-
five years hence they will have vanished from this con
tinent along with the red man and the buffalo/' These
are only specimens of the allegations that met me every
where amongst the Southern people, from the border
States to the Gulf. How far they are justified by facts,
time and the census will show ; but the question in the
meantime is, If the Southern people believe what they say
about the Hack people dying out so fast, what fear need
they have of negro domination ?
The assumption, however, that the negro is dying
out, is, to say the least of it, premature. Charles
Campbell, the historian of Virginia, who has given
WILL THE NEGHO DIE OUT ? 1 7
some attention to this inquiry, and who might natu
rally be expected to take the Southern view of it,
said that he believed it to be erroneous. General
Howard, chief of the Freedmen's Bureau, who has had
special opportunities of forming a correct judgment,
has declared that the assumption is altogether ground
less. If the negro survives in Canada and the North,
much more is he likely to do so in the warmer and
more congenial climate of the South. Still, two things
are probable. The first is that the sudden emancipa
tion of four millions of slaves, untrained to think or to
provide for themselves, and this in a country wasted
and wrecked by the war, may show, in the next cen
sus, an extraordinary mortality amongst them since
I860, though this will be no proof of any tendency to
die out under ordinary circumstances. The second
thing is that now, when the negroes have to provide for
themselves and for their children, which many of them
are doing with extreme difficulty, and others are unable
to do at all, the rate of increase will be lower, and the
rate of mortality higher, than formerly. If this be so,
then the existing preponderance of the white over the
coloured population is destined to increase rather than
dimmish. There will, of course, be local exceptions.
Even at present there are districts where the black
population is in excess of the white. In the most
southerly regions this preponderance may continue or
even increase, as the blacks of the North and the bor
der States will naturally gravitate towards the warmer
latitudes near the Gulf, where the white immigration
will for the same reason be least.
But even in places where the black population may
slightly preponderate, it seems to me that the fears of
VOL. II. B
18 NEGRO DOMINATION.
the white population are not creditable to themselves.
Where is the boasted superiority of the Anglo-Saxon if
he cannot rule without being in the majority ? If
there is to be universal suffrage irrespective of race, the
blacks will have more votes in some districts, perhaps
in some States, than the whites. But the world is not
governed by votes. It is governed by ideas. Majorities
never rule. Even a democracy has its policy deter
mined by the men (always a small minority) who are
able to act upon and sway the majority. This power of
filling other heads with his own thoughts — of making
other hands the willing instruments of his purpose —
belongs to the Caucasian far more than to the negro, and
belongs pre-eminently to the Anglo-Saxon. Anglo-
Saxon ideas are moulding America from Canada to the
Gulf, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific. They have
been moulding the negro both in slavery and in free
dom ; and every case in which a negro has risen to
prominence in the States is another proof that his
power depends for the most part upon his ability to
conform himself to these ideas, and assist in their de
velopment. There seems, therefore, no danger what
ever of "white ideas" giving place to black. And if,
under any circumstances, two millions of negroes in the
Gulf States prove themselves able to control the desti
nies of even one million of whites, either the white
people must greatly deteriorate, or the black people
must greatly improve. In either case the government
will be where it ought to be — in the hands of the most
competent.
But if the South is not Africanized either by the
blacks out-voting or out-witting the whites, there is a
danger, it is said, of her being Africanized by amalga-
THE HALF-CASTE BRIDGE. 1 9
mation. First of all, it is argued that political equality
will lead to social equality ; " for if," said one Southern
gentleman, " I sit side by side in the Senate House, or
on the judicial bench, with a coloured man, how can I
refuse to sit with him at the table ? What will follow ?"
he continued. " If we have social equality we shall
have intermarriage, and if we have intermarriage we
shall degenerate ; we shall become a race of mulattoes ;
we shall be another Mexico ; we shall be ruled out from
the family of white nations. Sir, it is a matter of life
and death with the Southern people to keep their blood
pure."
This was said at the table of a Southern clergyman,
and was strongly indorsed by the others who were pre
sent. This seemed to me everywhere the dread that
lies deepest in the Southern heart, and gave most fury
to its opposition. It was to it that Alexander Stephens
alluded when he said, that if the present regime was to
be permanent, the white people would flee from the
South as from another Sodom.
This dreaded fusion of the two races is brought, more
than it otherwise would have been, within the range of
probability, by the existence of so many half-castes.
There is generally a repugnance to amalgamation be
tween pure whites and pure blacks — negroes preferring
to marry negroes, and whites preferring to marry whites.
But this broad, clear line of demarcation, drawn by na
ture between the Caucasian and the negro, has been at
innumerable points obliterated by the immoralities per
petrated by unscrupulous men under the temptations
offered by slavery. Ther£ are now in the South thou
sands upon thousands of mulattoes, quadroons, octo
roons, and so on, presenting every variety of shade from
20 NEGRO DOMINATION.
pure black to pure white, and so forming an unbroken
bridge across the gulf that separated the two races at
first.
Often amongst the coloured people, especially in the
Mission schools and churches, I found girls of so fair
and beautiful a complexion, that they would have passed
anywhere for pure whites. Under the slave-system
this involved little or no peril to the purity of the
ruling race. Concubinage, so far as it existed, was
entirely between white men and coloured women, and
as the slave- code decreed that the children should fol
low the condition of the mother, the offspring of all
this immorality, no matter how white-skinned, was held
in slavery. But now, such girls as those I have referred
to, and freed men equally unrecognisable as negroes,
can go where they please — can remove to places where
their origin is not known, and marry white men and
white women, and so, in spite of all the vigilance of
caste, continue the connection between the two races.
These cases, however, are too few to have much effect
on the general population ; and if it be the case, as the
Southern people allege, when maintaining the specific
difference of the negro and the Caucasian, that the
mixed race becomes barren in the fourth or fifth gene
ration, then the effect will be scarcely perceptible. The
result dreaded by the South can only occur if the pure
whites consent to intermarry with the manifestly black.
But judging from the state of things in the North, it
seems probable that connection of this kind between the
two races will, instead of increasing, become far less
common now than during the existence of slavery.
Slavery offered strong temptations to it on both sides,
which will now be removed.
DISCUSSION BETWEEN TWO SOUTHERNERS. 21
III.
SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO.
I WAS much amused by a discussion about the negro
which I heard in the house of a Southern friend, and
which was mainly carried on between a Virginian and
a strong pro-slavery man from Mobile. It shows to
what strange positions many have been driven by the
necessity of defending the exclusion of the negro from
political and social rights.
The Virginian had been expressing an opinion that
the Southern people, though so strongly opposed to the
wholesale enfranchisement of the black population,
would probably not object now to a qualified suffrage.
" Sir," said the Mobile man, " I would object. I
hold that this is a white man's Government, and that
no nigger has, or ever will have, or ever can have, a
right to vote."
" But," said the Virginian, " if a negro shows himself
man enough to make a good position, and acquire tax
able property, I would say, if he is educated, let him
vote."
" But the nigger can't show himself a man when he
isn't a man. I hold the nigger ain't a man at all"
" Not a man !"
" No, sir ; not in the same way as a white man is.
There's forty-one points of difference between the
22 SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO.
nigger and the white man. There 's the thick lips ;
there 's the flat skull ; there 's the flat nose ; there 's the
kinky hair, — in fact it ain't hair at all, it 's wool."
He went on with his enumeration till he had got,
I think, to the twenty-eighth point of difference, which
brought him about halfway down the negro's body,
when the Virginian interrupted him with — " That 's all
very well, and I don't say, and I don't hold, that the
negro is equal to the white man. All I say is, that he
is a man ; that he belongs to the human family. He is
the child of Ham, and Ham was the child of Noah, as
much as Shem or Japheth was."
" But that 's where we differ," said the other. " I say
he ain't the child of Ham, and he ain't the descendant
of Noah any more than my horse is. Noah, sir, was a
white man, and if he was a white man, and if he had a
wrhite wife, as he had, how could he have a nigger child ?
You say Noah cursed Ham. Well, suppose he did.
Would that give him a flat nose and kinky hair, and
make a nigger of him ? No, sir, my opinion is the nigger
don't come from Adam at all. He hangs on to a differ
ent part of creation altogether. The only children of
Adam that got into the ark were Noah and his sons,
and his sons' wives, and they were all white ; and as
the nigger must have got in too, else he wouldn't be
here, I reckon he must have got in amongst the beasts."
He went on to express his opinion that it was the
negro that deceived Eve in the garden of Eden.
" Don't Scripture say the tempter was more subtle
than all the beasts of the field ? Well now, ain't that
the nigger photographed to a T ? — a beast, but more
subtle, more intelligent, more like a real man than any
other beast."
THE BIBLE ON MISCEGENATION. 23
" That 's new doctrine," said the Virginian, with a
laugh.
" It ain't ; it 's as old as Scripture," said the other.
" If it was the negro that deceived Eve, he must have
been a mighty deal handsomer then than he is now,"
said the Virginian. " And what do you make of the
curse about his crawling on the earth and eating dust ?"
" It 's God's truth," said the other. " Don't you see
the niggers often lying and crawling about. There 's
nothing they like better ; and they do it more in Africa
than here. I reckon we kept them on their feet con
siderable ; but they will be at it here again by-and-by,
now they 've got no master. And as for eating dust or
dirt," he added, " the nigger always does that when he
can't get better. He eats fullers' earth, and what's
fullers' earth but dirt ? "
Eeferring to a book which he had been reading on
the subject, he said, " That book makes it as clear as
day that though the nigger is called a man in the Bible,
it don't mean a real man like you or me. When God came
to make the real man, the white man, Adam, He said,
' Let us make man in our own image', meaning that He
had already made a kind of man — that is, a nigger — not
in His own image, but with flat skull, thick lips, woolly
head, flat nose, and no soul in him. Scripture calls the
nigger a man, but it calls Adam the man, the white real
man, the Son of God. Then here's another point:
Don't the Bible tell us that the Sons of God saw the
daughters of men that they were fair or seductive, and
went and married them? Well now, if the Sons of
God were the children of Adam, where did the other
men come from that had these daughters ? What were
they ? Why, there 's only one explanation, and that is,
U4 SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO.
that they were niggers. And God's curse came on the
white men for marrying them and producing a race of
mulattoes — a kind of animal that is neither a man nor
a beast. That's what God brought the flood for, to
sweep away that mongrel race ; that 's what He rained
fire on Sodom for ; and that 's what He '11 bring a judg
ment on these United States for if we don't look out.
That 's the one unpardonable sin, sir, miscegenation —
spoiling a good man and a good nigger to make a
mulatto. 1 admire the nigger, sir," he said, turning to
me ; "I love the nigger in his proper place ; but his
place is not as the white man's equal, but as his slave.
God gave the white man dominion over the fowls of
the air, and over the fish, and over the beasts, and, there
fore, over the nigger."
This was certainly the most extreme position with
regard to the negro which I heard any one in the
Southern States defend. "When I spoke of it to General
E. P. Alexander, he said, " I don't know if any one
really believes all that. But such views are being pub
lished, and there are some people in such despair about
our future, that they grasp at these arguments, and
would be glad to see them adopted, in the hope that it
would lead to the whole negro population being gathered
up and shipped back to Africa !"
As I have given this extreme view, let me now in
troduce the substance of a conversation I had with a
Southern clergyman, the Rev. Mr. M — , whose views
admirably represent those most prevalent among Chris
tian people 'in the South. Let me mention, that this
clergyman was so thoroughly satisfied of the righteous
ness of the Southern cause, that he not only gave it his
advocacy, but at one period during the war took com-
A FIGHTING PARSON'S DEFENCE OF SLAVERY. 25
mand of a battery in Stonewall Jackson's corps, and
had his church-bell melted down into cannon-balls
when ordnance stores ran low.
When he told me this himself, he added, with a grim
smile of irony, — " I suppose the fact that I threw shells
in on these Northern rascals to perpetuate slavery, would
recommend me to your Scottish churches, if I visited
your country again !"
When we got upon the subject of slavery, he said, —
" You appeal to Scripture, and reason, and expediency.
Well, sir, so do we. Look at Scripture. You cannot
. deny that God gave directions about slavery from Mount
Sinai ; you cannot deny that Abraham, the father of
the faithful, owned slaves ; you cannot deny that Christ
never forbade slavery ; and you cannot deny that Paul
returned a fugitive slave to his master. Well then, that
being so, slavery is not unscriptural. Still," he con
tinued, " if it were horribly averse to the human con
science, I would sympathize with the efforts made to
get over all this by desperate feats of exegesis. Eut
look at Eeason. You speak of property in man — of
men being made chattels of, and so forth. Now, what
does all this amount to ? Simply, that slavery secured
to the master a man's services for life. You speak of
inalienable rights ; but freedom is not one of these.
Everybody is born under authority of some kind. Nul-
lus homo liber. Children are born under the authority
of their parents ; a man is under the authority of his
father, who has the right to his service till he is twenty -
one — a big slice out of any one's life. The recent war
shows further that we are all born under bondage to
the Government, which can press a man into its service
as soon as he is twenty- one, and sooner. Many white
26 SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO.
men, therefore, who died in this war, both Yankees and
Southerners, were never free ; they passed from bondage
to their fathers into bondage to the Government. A
woman, again, is under bondage to her parents till she
is of age ; and if she marries, she is under bondage to
her husband for the rest of her life, unless she outlives
him ; so that a woman who marries before she is of age,
and dies before her husband, is never free at all. Abso
lute liberty belongs neither to man, woman, nor child,
whether black or white.
" But you say that slavery went further than all this.
Well, so it did, but that arose out of the necessities of the
case. Depend upon it, sir, where an inferior race exists
side by side with a superior, there are only two ways
of escape from extermination — the first is amalgamation,
the second is bondage. Amalgamation with negroes was
not to be mentioned. There is a natural and unconquer
able repugnance to it. The only alternative was bondage
— an imperium in imperio — a republic for the whites, a
patriarchal system for the blacks. They needed protec
tion ; they needed tutelage ; they had to be dealt with
as a race of infants. It was a thing of mercy, a thing
of kindness to keep them in slavery. They were happier
in slavery; and it will by-and-by be manifest to you,
as it has all along been manifest to us, that they are not
fit for freedom. God, sir, in his providence, has been
pleased to try free negro communities a dozen times in
the history of the world, and the result has always been
the same. Your negroes were set free in the West
Indies. What is the result there ? Most of the white
people have gone back to England, and most of the
black people have gone back to the bush. The free
negroes in the South, too, were always diminishing,
THE DIVINE INSTITUTION. 27
while those in slavery multiplied and prospered. They
are now diminishing everywhere, and sooner or later
they will disappear from the face of this continent.
Yes, sir, we fought more for the good of the black than
of the white man. At least," he added, with a wise
qualification, " we believed so."
Such were the convictions that made it possible for
Christian people and Christian churches not only to
tolerate slavery, but to defend it. The Eev. Dr. Palmer
of New Orleans, in a famous sermon preached on the
29th November 1860, urged on the Southern people the
maintenance of slavery — (1.) as a duty to themselves,
because their material interests were bound up with it ;
(2.) as a duty to their slaves, because the negro was a
helpless being, requiring white protection and control ;
(3.) as a duty to the world, which depended so much
on Southern cotton ; and (4.) as a duty to God, who had
appointed slavery, and whose honour was impeached,
and whose cause on earth was imperilled by the atheistic
spirit of abolitionism. " With this institution assigned,"
he said, " to our keeping, what reply should we make
to those who say that its days are numbered ? We ought
at once to lift ourselves intelligently to the highest
moral ground, and proclaim to all the world that we
hold this trust from God, to preserve it, and to trans
mit it to posterity with the unchallenged right to go
and root itself wherever providence and nature shall
carry it." l
1 When at New Orleans I went seen a Presbyterian minister wear
and heard Dr. Palmer preach. He in the pulpit. He took for his text
is a youthful-looking man, middle- " The Spirit and the Bride say,
sized and thick-set, with a good Come," from which he preached
voice and gentlemanly address. He an excellent sermon, unexception-
wore a white vest, the first I had ably orthodox, and shaped after
28 SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO.
It is curious and instructive to compare these views
of slavery and the negro with those entertained by the
South at an earlier period. George Washington, the
Father of his country, and himself a slaveholder, said
that there was not a man living who wished more
sincerely than he did to see a plan adopted for having
slavery aholished, and he showed his sincerity by leaving
the great body of his slaves free. Jefferson, also a South
ern man, and a slaveholder, said in 1774, — " The abolition
of domestic slavery is the greatest object of desire in
these colonies," and he proposed a constitution for Vir
ginia, by which all born after the year 1800 were to be
free. Munroe declared that the system had proved
itself " prejudicial to all the States in which it existed."
Finally, Patrick Henry, the great orator of the Eevolu-
tion, also a Southern slaveholder, said, — " It would re
joice my soul that every one of these, my fellow-beings,
was emancipated. . . . We detest slavery — we feel its
fatal effects — we deplore it with all the earnestness of
humanity."
Evidently the founders of the Republic did not think
slavery the beneficent and divine institution it has
since been declared to be. The first great light upon
this subject seems to have been obtained by the South
about the year 1793, through the instrumentality of
the machine known as the cotton-gin (properly cotton-
engine), invented in that year by Eli Whitney. This
important invention, acting in conjunction with those
the old fashion-, but very earnest " Your people are very ignorant of
and effective. His congregation is the real state of things in the
one of the largest and most fashion- South; and what is worse, they
able in New Orleans. When intro- will not believe the testimony of
duced to him after the service, he those who are better informed than
said, speaking of this country, themselves."
NECESSITY FOE DEFENDING SLAVERY. 29
of Hargreaves, Arkwright, and Watt, speedily converted
slavery from a precarious into a paying business ; caused
the value of slaves to run up from 400 to 1000 and
even 1500 dollars; and the production of cotton in the
Southern States to mount up from 10,000 bales in 1793
to 100,000 bales in 1800, and from 100,000 in 1800 to
1,000,000 bales in 1830. It became evident then that
slavery was a divine institution, and its claims upon
the admiration of the world were in that year publicly
set forth for the first time by the Governor of South
Carolina.
In the meantime the number of slaves had increased
enormously. This magnified and complicated the diffi
culty of attempting emancipation, at the same time
that the profits of slavery diminished the inclination to
attempt it. Then arose and spread the anti-slavery
agitation in the North, which was soon knocking with
its thousand hands at the gates of the South. This
compelled her, if slavery was to be maintained at all,
to guard the system and hold her negroes down by
more rigid and repressive enactments; while it sent
her here, there, and everywhere for proofs of the
righteousness of slavery, in order to satisfy herself and
to vindicate her conduct before the world. Vehement
appeals were made to the Bible ; Moses and Abraham
were called up from Levitical and patriarchal times to
do duty that must sometimes have been unpleasant to
them ; and Paul's dealings with Onesimus were so con
stantly appealed to in vindication of the Act that per
mitted fugitive slaves to be hunted over the North, that
it may be doubted whether the apostle, if he had known
the use that was to have been made of him, would have
sent Onesimus back at all.
30
SOUTHERN VIEWS OF THE NEGRO.
The same search was instituted with the same object
through the domains of science and history ; and the
comparative failure of emancipation in the West Indies
was greedily seized upon as a strong argument against1
a similar experiment in the States.1
1 In speaking of the failure of
emancipation in the West Indies,
it is too common to look merely to
statistics of produce, overlooking
entirely the moral aspects of the
question. But surely, apart alto
gether from the amount of exports,
it is some gain to Christianity and
civilisation that the atrocities which
were of daily occurrence in slave
days are no longer possible. Taking
the darkest view of results, is it not
worth while sacrificing several bar
rels of sugar and risking a slave or
two in order to make a Man ? Even
the material results are too often
under-rated. Taking, for instance,
the Hanover district in Jamaica, sta
tistics of which were published some
time since, it seems that in a single
parish occupied by negro settlers,
four thousand acres are cultivated
in ground provisions, arrow-root,
sugar, ginger, etc. This, valued at
£30 an acre, gives a total value for
the produce of these small settlers
of £120,000. One-half of this is
estimated to be consumed by them
selves, and the other half sold. In
six sections, embracing one-fourth
part of the parish, there are 143
small sugar-cane mills turning out
regularly upwards of 450 barrels of
sugar. " And. surely," says the
Jamaica Guardian, " the people,
who, in thousands, have become
members of churches, whose chil
dren are being educated, who live
in well-furnished cottages, with cul
tivated grounds and well-stocked
poultry-yards, surely such people
cannot be considered as sinking
into savagery. The slave of forty
years ago, who has raised himself
to be a freeholder, who rides his
own horse and occupies land which
he has purchased, settled, stocked,
and farmed with his own earnings,
cannot be described as retrograding.
A country dotted over its entire
area with hundreds of churches and
schools, where formerly there was
neither the one nor the other, can
not be said to be going backward.
Hundreds of black people here who
once were slaves are now lessees of
land, proprietors of sugar-mills,
growing and manufacturing an
nually thousands of barrels of sugar
on their own account, while multi
tudes grow and carry their own
coffee, pimento, ginger, arrow-root,
and provisions to the public marts.
Their deposits in the Savings Banks
amount to about £80,000. Some
of them have risen to the bar and
the bench ; many of them are min
isters ; and hundreds more of these
educated natives are engaged as
schoolmasters."
It must be admitted, however,
that the results of emancipation in
the West Indies have fallen far short
of what was anticipated ; and this
is the aspect of the case which was
constantly looked at by the people
of the Southern States.
THE FINAL ABGUMENT. 31
When it is remembered that, as Bacon says, " People
are most willing to believe that which they most desire/'
it cannot be considered surprising that the Southern
people should have been able to satisfy themselves that
emancipation would be a misfortune ; that the negro
was created to be a slave ; that he was happiest as a
slave ; and that it was a duty resting upon them, by
gentle measures if possible, by forcible measures if
necessary, to keep him a slave. Nor is it to be wondered
at that many should have gone the length, like that
Mobile gentleman, of denying that the negro was a man
at all. This, indeed, was the conclusion to which the
South was gravitating, and the only conclusion in which
pro- slavery Christians could have found real and final
peace ; for if the negro was a man, he was a brother ;
and if he was a brother, how could it be right to buy
and sell him, and make it lawful (not usual, but per
fectly lawful) to treat him like a beast ? But if it could
be proved scripturally, ethnologically, that he really
was a beast, what a happy settlement and quietus this
would have given to the whole difficulty !
32 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
IV.
INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
IN travelling round the Gulf States, I turned my at
tention chiefly to the emancipated slaves — going to see
them at their work, visiting them in their cabins, accom
panying them to their meetings, walking with them,
talking with them, and endeavouring, as best I could, to
acquaint myself with their character.
Their present situation seems to me full of peril, and
yet full of hope, owing largely in both respects to the
influence of slavery. Slavery has been a great curse to
these people, but it has also been a blessing. The men-
stealers who brought them from Africa, and the traders
who purchased them in America, were probably think
ing more of their own profits than of the negro's good ;
and yet in God's hand they became the means of re
moving this portion of the negro race from heathenism,
and placing it under the charge of civilized and, in the
ordinary sense of the term, Christian people. The anti-
slavery agitation (one-sided as all such agitations must
in the nature of things be) has left upon many minds
the impression that the slave's knowledge of Southern
civilisation was confined for the most part to what he
obtained through the lash.
But this impression not only does gross injustice to
the Southern people, — it leads to false views of the
CHRISTIAN INSTRUCTION. 33
present situation. There were people, multitudes of
them, who treated their slaves infamously, — so infam
ously as to furnish a strong argument for the abolition of
the whole system that put such power into their hands.
But it must be remembered that of the quarter of a
million of families owning slaves in the Southern States,
tens of thousands were humane and Christian families, in
which the slaves were kindly treated, and brought up
under refining influences. I had abundant testimony
to this effect from the negroes themselves. In answer
to the question how they were treated in slavery, the
answer, especially in the case of domestic slaves, often
was, " My massa was more like a fader to me," " My
missis was more like a mudder." One old black woman
told me with tears in her eyes how, when she was ill
and like to die, her mistress sat up with her for two
nights in succession, nursing her with the utmost ten
derness.
The laws forbade the education of slaves. But no
laws, however stringently enforced, could prevent a
slave, in daily connection with his master, from learning
a great deal which he would not otherwise have known,
and becoming to a certain extent civilized. Moreover,
there were many slaves who, these laws notwithstand
ing, were taught to read by masters and mistresses
who were better than the laws. Many masters had
the Bible read to their slaves, and not only permitted
but required them to go to church ; and in almost all
the places of public worship I visited in the South,
there was a gallery for negroes, where, even in slave
days, they could come and listen to the same gospel
that was preached to their masters. Those who learned
something in this way were able to communicate to
VOL. II. C
34 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
others ; and sometimes when sold to other parts, were
the means of diffusing this knowledge amongst slaves
who had never enjoyed such advantages. It thus came
about that almost all the slaves scattered over the vast
area of the South obtained glimmerings of Christian
knowledge, while more than 300,000 of them had got
the length of being connected with the Church before
the war broke out. This church connection might, and
often did, imply very little either in the way of instruc
tion or moral development; but it at least implied
something which they would never have received in
the heathen darkness of Africa.
Those who shared least in these advantages were the
gangs that were driven about like cattle on the vast
plantations of the far South and South-west, and who
saw little of their master and less of his family ; but
out of the 350,000 holders of slaves, more than 150,000
owned fewer than five, and a large proportion of these
were personal or domestic servants. On them the in
fluence of white civilisation could not fail to be power
ful They were constantly in the presence of white
people ; if they were refused education, they were still
in a position to discover its value, and often did suc
ceed in getting some, — not much, perhaps, but enough
to make them anxious for more. And this, as we shall
see, is one of the most remarkable and one of the most
hopeful phases of their present position.
One thing, indubitably, which the negroes wrere
taught in slavery was to speak English. This is a point
of great moment. To acquire a new language means
not only to learn new words, but to learn new ideas ;
and to the negroes the mere acquisition of English was
moral and intellectual development. Nor is that the
BLACK ARISTOCRACY. 35
end of its advantages, but rather the beginning ; for it
has left these four millions of emancipated slaves open,
as no other alien race on earth so completely is, to all
the civilizing and Christian influences that surround
them. Suppose them ignorant of English as when
brought from Africa, what would be their present con
dition ? The numerous teachers and missionaries who
are leading them up by tens of thousands into the light
of education, would have been shut off from access to
them by the barriers of an unknown tongue. The
people who are already with so much success instruct
ing them in their new social and political duties, would
have been utterly unintelligible to them. It would
probably have taken half a century to put them in a
state of fitness for beginning the vast work which their
knowledge of English, acquired in slavery, made it
possible to begin the instant the gates of the South were
opened.
Another effect incident to slavery was- that it taught
the negro to look up to the white race, — to regard the
white man as the standard of perfection, and therefore
the pattern for imitation. Some of the outcomes of this
were curious enough. One was a gradation of honour
amongst the negroes themselves, based on resemblance
to, or connection with, the white man. The plantation
nigger, working in the fields, often under charge of a
coloured driver, was the plebeian, who looked up with
envy to the domestic slave who waited on the white
family and was the negro aristocrat. So also with
colour. White was the tint of nobility; black the
symbol of degradation. If one coloured man wanted to
insult another, he called him a nigger. To call him " a
charcoal nigger " was the blackest insult of all, making
36 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
him the furthest remove from the nobility of whiteness.
The pure black looked up to the mulatto, the mulatto
looked up to the quadroon ; while all of them for the
same reason looked up to the pure white, across the im
passable gulf fixed by slavery. Some mischief, no doubt,
arose out of this. It seems not improbable that a de
sire amongst slave women, unattached, to be loved and
petted by men of the ruling race, and to have children
whose colour should lift them to a somewhat higher
level, co-operated with the lust of immoral masters in
producing the half-castes so numerous throughout the
South.
Another bad effect flowing from the exaltation of the
white man into a pattern for imitation, was that he was
sometimes a very bad man, and therefore a very bad
model ; and it is probable that the negro has succeeded
better in copying his vices than his virtues. But the
general effect of making the white man the model for
imitation by the black, which slavery did, was upon the
whole good. It taught the negro to look up to and
imitate men higher in the scale of civilisation than
himself, and has made it all the more probable now that
he will seek the apotheosis of his race in conformity
with " white " ideas.
Slavery has also given the negro a little sanitary
education, which it will be well for him not to throw
aside. The slaveholder had of course to attend to the
health and safety of his slaves for his own interest.
Even if he was one of those who looked upon their
slaves as 'mere cattle, still he had paid 500 or 1000
dollars apiece for them, and had a powerful motive to
keep them in good physical condition, so as to get the
most work out of them in the field, or the highest price
BAD EFFECTS OF SLAVERY. 37
for them in the market. He accordingly fed them well,
fed them regularly, kept liquor from them, had them up
betimes in the morning, kept them actively employed,
and had sickness or disease promptly attended to. The
consequence was that the slaves were probably the
healthiest people in the United States.
Finally, slavery has taught them how to work. It
has taught them to dig, hoe, plant, and pick ; it has
taught many of the women to be good nurses, cooks,
milliners, and dressmakers ; it has taught many of the
men to be builders, to be cabinetmakers, to be carpen
ters, to be hostlers, to be barbers, to be waiters, to be
shopmen, — in short, it has so far put them in a position
to feel at home and to earn their bread in a civilized
community. Who will for a moment compare the fit
ness of these four millions of coloured people for their
present position with that of four millions of untutored
savages freshly transported from Africa ? The differ
ence, whatever it be, and it is enormous, is due to the
influences that have been brought to bear upon them in
slavery.
But if slavery was in some respects a blessing — if at
least under the overruling hand of God who brings
good out of evil, and under the influence of people
in the South who were better than their own laws,
slavery was made a blessing, — it was in other respects
a curse. It injected a curse, indeed, even into its
blessing.
It taught the negro to work ; but at the same time
it taught him to associate work with bondage, — to look
upon it as the badge of his degradation, and to think of
a state of freedom as a state of idleness. Now that the
38 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
negro is free, the bad effect of this teaching is mourn
fully visible.1
Again, slavery cared for the negro ; but it did so in
such a way as to deprive him of all sense of responsi
bility. His owner had to house him, feed him, clothe
him, and do the same for his wife and children ; settled
for him what he should do and what he should not do,
thus removing from the negro himself all necessity for
thrift, forethought, self-reliance, and self-control. Some
of them, indeed, who were permitted to hire themselves
out, or do extra work for their own benefit, and were
possessed with the idea of buying their freedom, or the
freedom of their wives and children, developed those
virtues with the occasion, and show themselves in
consequence best fitted for their new position. But such
cases were exceptional. The slave system itself taught
1 This kind of teaching is less cident, just to show how these views
common now, when so many South- of labour influenced the minds of
erners have themselves to work, but the slaves. In one of the first
it is not altogether discontinued. In Southern houses I visited, I took
a Southern family which I visited in the opportunity of having a little
Virginia, the servant came to tell talk with the negro girl, who came
her mistress that a gentleman was in, when I was alone in the room, to
at the door wishing to see her. The mend the fire. I asked her if she
lady went, and found that it was a had been a slave.
coloured man. With some sharp- "Yes, sah; belonged to Mrs. ,
ness she summoned the servant, and 'bout twelve miles from here."
said, in the man's hearing, so that " How do you like the change to
both might benefit by the lesson, freedom?"
"How dared you say that fa gen- "Well, I dunno. I've got to
tleman ' wished to see me ? This is wu'k now same as before."
a negro— a man who works. A " But don't you find it better to
gentleman is one who doesn't work be free ? "
— who can live without work — "I dunno. I used to belong to
who has others to work for him. missis, and she was kind to me. I
A negro may be a very decent man, belong to my mudder now, and she
but he can never be a gentleman." gets all de wage I earn. Tears to
Let me mention another little in- me I ain't no mo' free dan I was."
GAVE SIN THE SANCTION OF SCRIPTURE. 39
the negroes to depend like children upon others, and
left them, in this respect, not so fit for freedom as it
found them. Much of the thoughtlessness, thriftless-
jiess, and weakness of self-control, which are seen
amongst them now, — keeping so many in idleness and
poverty, and making them fall so easy a prey to the
allurements of intemperance and carnality, — must be
attributed to this cause.
It brought them also as heathen within the sound
of the gospel, and to many this has been an unspeakable
blessing. But the extent to which the Bible was em
ployed to justify slavery and enforce obedience on the
slaves, converted this blessing in many cases into a
curse. It might not have been so had the clergy been
disposed or been permitted to distinguish between the
good and the bad in slavery, and to denounce boldly
the infamous practices which were carried on under
the license of the slave code ; but the fear of exciting
discontent with the whole system kept most of the
Southern clergy quiet on this point, whatever their
private opinions might be ; and possibly their circum
spection was increased by the fact, that any such ex
pressions of opinion might have exposed them to the
fury of the populace, and brought them within the
clutches of the law.1
1 By the Statutes of Virginia (Re- white person shall be convicted of
vised Code, 1849, cap. 198), "Any being the author, printer, or pub-
person who, by speech or writing, lisher of any written or printed
denied the right of property in paper within this State, or shall
slaves, was made liable to be ar- use any language with intent to dis-
rested by any white person, fined turb the peace or security of the
500 dollars, and imprisoned for a same, in relation to the slaves of
year." Louisiana went further, the people of this State, or to dimin-
and decreed as follows (Revised ish that respect which is by law
Statutes, 1852, p. 554):— If "any demanded from free people of colour
40 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
The consequence was, that their arguments for slavery,
drawn from Scripture, and their ex cathedra enforce
ment of the law of obedience, led the slave to believe
that the Bible sanctioned slavery as it was, and the
treatment to which slavery subjected him ; and when
this treatment was bad, as it often was, the mischievous
effect of this inference can be supposed. Some people
point to the appearance of infidelity amongst the negroes,
and the prevalence of immorality even amongst many
who profess religion, and refer it to abolition teaching.
If some mischief has been done by the language in
which extreme Abolitionists sometimes assailed the
Bible, much more has been done by the use, or rather
abuse, of the Bible by the advocates of slavery.
Need we be surprised if we find some negroes reject
ing a Bible, of which they know little or nothing except
that it was constantly appealed to in defence of a system
which outraged even their poor notions of morality ?
Need we wonder if we find that many coloured women
see no inconsistency between a profession of religion
and a life of sin, when we remember that the religion
f'or the whites, or to destroy that in any place whatsoever — or who-
distinction which the law has estab- ever shall make use of language in
lished between the several classes of private discourses or conversations,
this community, such person shall or shall make any signs or actions
be adjudged guilty of high misde- having a tendency to produce dis-
meanour, and shall be fined in a content among the free coloured
sum not less than three hundred population, or to excite insubordi-
dollars, and not more than a thou- nation among the slaves, shall, on
sand dollars, and, moreover, im- conviction, be imprisoned at hard
prisoned for a term not less than six labour for no less than three years,
months, and not exceeding three nor more than twenty-one years, or
years." And again :— " Whoso- shall siiffer death, at the discretion
ever shall make use of language in of the Court." Laws of this sort
any public discourse from the bar, did not do much to encourage free
the bench, the stage, the pulpit, or discussion or criticism.
EDUCATION PROHIBITED. 41
inculcated on them was obedience to their masters, and
that, with some of them, obedience to their masters
meant submission to lascivious desires ?
It is also true, as we have said, that under slavery
many of the negroes received moral and intellectual
training; but this was owing to the character of the
people into whose hands they fell, rather than to the
institution itself. Slavery professed to take charge of
the negroes as of an infantine race, but it belied the
profession. What was the meaning of those laws pro
hibiting the education of slaves ? What was the mean
ing of South Carolina declaring, that any white person
who taught, or helped to teach a slave to read or write,
would be fined and imprisoned, and any black person
whipped? What was the meaning of North Carolina
making it penal to give a book or pamphlet to a slave ?
What was the meaning of Alabama prohibiting, under
a penalty of 250 dollars, the teaching of any slave to
read, write, or spell ? Why was it deemed necessary to
throw a Southern lady (Mrs. Douglas) into the jail at
Norfolk in 1857, because she had been found giving
lessons to a class of negroes ?
People say it is impossible to educate the negro —
that he has not brains for it. But people do not pass
laws to prevent impossibilities — impossibilities having
a way of preventing themselves. The passing of laws
against negro education was a formal declaration on the
part of the South that negro education was possible, and
not only possible, but so imminent that it needed pains
and penalties to prevent it. But why was its prevention
demanded? Slavery was patriarchal. It had charge
of the negro as a parent has charge of his child. What
would be thought of a parent who should threaten any
42 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
person with punishment who helped his child to read ?
or should threaten to whip the child itself if it
attempted to learn? Why then did the South adopt
such a course? The reason is obvious. The parent
wants his boy to become a man ; the South wanted the
negro to remain a slave. I am not speaking of excep
tions, I am speaking of the rule. Whatever tended to
make the negro a better slave, a happier slave, a more
contented slave, was given him — food, clothing, animal
enjoyment, and amusements, not to mention pious ad
monitions to obedience, and practical lessons from the
conduct of Paul in reference to Onesimus.
But, as a rule, whatever tended to make him less of
a slave and more of a man he was denied. By law he
was excluded even from the category of men, and was
held to be a piece of property — a chattel — to be held,
and bought and sold like a horse or a piece of furni
ture.
While, therefore, slavery with one hand brought these
Africans into a land of civilisation, and into contact
with elevating agencies, with the other hand it stood
ready, if any of them under these influences attempted
to rise from the childhood of slavery into the manhood
of freedom, to smite them down.
But the heaviest calamity which slavery has brought
upon the coloured people is one already alluded to — the
wreck it has made of their morals.
This is a subject painful to mention, but without
bearing this feature of the slave system in mind, it is
impossible truly to realize the present condition of the
freed people, or the enormous difficulties which slavery,
though itself dead, has left in the way of their develop
ment.
MORALS WKECKED. 43
It is said that the negroes have stronger animal pro
pensities than the Caucasian ; and it is certain that
coming from heathenism they brought with them a
lower code of morality. The obvious duty of a Chris
tian community taking such people under its tutelage,
was surely to be all the more careful of their morals on
this account, and specially to impress upon them the
sac redness of those conjugal and filial relations, on
which the elevation of any race so much depends. But
instead of this what did the slave system do ? It broke
down in multitudes of cases even the moral principles
which these poor people had respected in heathenism.
It took away from husbands any legal right to their
wives; it took away from parents any legal right to
their children. It put them entirely into the hands of
their master, to sort and separate them as he pleased,
and, if it suited him, sell away the husband to one
person, the wife to another, and the children to a third.
I found cases myself in which this barbarity had actu
ally been perpetrated.
What compensation was animal comfort for such
outrages on the deeper affections of human nature ?
" Kind ! " cried an excited negro, during a talk I had
with some coloured men after a prayer-meeting, when
reference was made to a planter in the neighbourhood,
" kind ! " he cried, starting up with quivering lips and
flashing eye, "I was dat man's slave ; and he sold my
wife, and he sold my two chiU'en ; yes, brudders, if
dere 's a God in heaven, he did. Kind ! yes, he gib me
corn enough, and he gib me pork enough, and he neber
gib me one lick wid de whip, but whar 's my wife ? —
whar 's my chill'en ? Take away de pork, I say ; take
away de corn, I can work and raise dese for myself,
44 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
but gib me back de wife of my bosom, and gib me back
my poor chill'en as was sold away ! "
Good people in the South deplored that such things
should be done, and refused to associate with men who
were known to treat their slaves with cruelty. They
were careful also to secure their own, as far as possible,
from such painful separations.
" If," said one planter, " a slave of mine wanted
to marry a slave belonging to another, I always en
deavoured either to buy or sell, so that both might
belong to the same proprietor, and the danger of separa
tion be diminished. But this was not always possible."
The Church also endeavoured to diminish the evil
and prevent respect for the marriage tie amongst
negroes from being utterly destroyed. But the evil
could not be checked. The law refused to recognise
marriage amongst slaves, and therefore denied all con
sequent rights. No matter how careful individual
owners were, the division of property was continually
cutting in between negro husbands and wives, parents
and children, causing them to be sent or sold apart.
Besides which, there were always plenty of heartless
ruffians who laughed at family ties amongst niggers,
and had no more compunction in scattering slave
families than in separating swine. With such a state
of things, sanctioned by the law and continually occur
ring, is it to be wondered at if many of the emancipated
slaves are found to have no conception of the sacred-
ness of marriage, and to be living in habitual immor
ality ? They were taught practically that virtue was a
thing for white people, not for niggers ; and were even
forbidden, in many cases, to take to themselves the
ordinary names indicative of family relationships.
CONCUBINAGE. 45
" I was once whipped," said a negro servant at New
Orleans, " because I said to missis, ' My mother sent me/
We were not allowed to call our mammies ' mother/ It
made it come too near the way of the white folks."
Darkest feature of all in this system was the extent
to which white men abused the power it gave them over
their female slaves. " My God ! " exclaimed a black
man at Macon, " if I could write a book, I could tell
what would make de world wonder if dere used to be a
God in dese yar Southern States." This man's own wife
had been taken from him and sold to a trader ; and his
daughter had been coaxed, bribed with dresses, and
ultimately (these means failing) had been taken to
another plantation and flogged, till she was brought to
submit to her master's wishes. In such cases the slaves
had no resource. Courts of justice were closed against
them. No court would receive negro evidence against
a white man. This helplessness made them yield the
more readily — made them feel irresponsible, made them
often court what they at first shrunk from, and in
multitudes of cases removed all sense of shame, and
obliterated the distinction between virtue and vice.
" Our wrongs, sah, became a second nature to us," said
a black woman whom I met at the mission- school at
Macon. " We grew dat way we didn't tink of it."
It is needless to repeat that good men looked upon
these immoralities with abhorrence ; that wise men
looked upon them with alarm. But if slavery was to
be maintained at all these things had to be tolerated,
and all that good men could do was to shake their heads
and class them among the inevitable evils which bad
men will always introduce into the best of systems.
This prostitution of negro womanhood is the most
46 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON THE BLACKS.
fatal of all the diseases which slavery has left to be
cured. There is good hope for men so long as women
remain what they ought to be, but when the purifying
influence becomes itself impure, what a leverage is lost
for the elevation of the mass ! If the salt have lost its
savour, wherewith shall it be salted ? Slavery has pol
luted the very fountains of social purity and elevation ;
it has desecrated the sanctities of home ; it has taught
multitudes of the negroes to attach so little importance
to the marriage- tie, that ministers told me they have
negroes coming now to be married one month, and
wanting to be " unmarried" the next ; it has left multi
tudes of the coloured women with no character to sus
tain — no knowledge of what virtue even means. With
many of them it has left the work to be done over again
of relaying the very foundations of morality. " They
are coming," said one missionary, in a tone of thankful
ness, " to see that there is something not right about
concubinage." It is well ; but what a depth of moral
degradation was implied in the fact, that they had not
been accustomed to see that before !
The cruelties of slavery are chiefly associated in
many minds with the bloodhound, the branding- iron,
and the lash ; but cases of severe cruelty, such as we read
of, were extremely rare and in some districts unknown,
and at any rate they are not the cases that illustrate
the mischief that slavery has really done. The negroes
who were shackled and branded with irons were gene
rally those who had still manhood enough to peril their
lives in an" attempt to gain their freedom. The women,
who were hunted through the swamps, or flogged with
severity, belonged to a class that had still womanhood
enough to prefer physical agony to moral degradation.
THE WORST EFFECT OF SLAVERY. 47
But the worst effects of slavery are to be found amongst
the myriads who were never scourged at all — negro men
whose manhood was so completely crushed as to make
them passive instruments of their masters' will ; women,
whose womanhood was so completely stamped out, that
they became unresisting and even willing slaves to the
basest desires of those who owned them.
It is this moral degradation, superinduced by slavery
upon the low morality of heathenism, that now hangs
like a millstone round the neck of the emancipated
race, and makes the present crisis so full of difficulty
and peril.
48 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
V.
THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
I WAS glad to find the condition and prospects of the
emancipated slaves better than the reports circulated in
this country had led me to expect. We are often told
that the negroes are poorer now and less happy than
they were in slavery. "Ah!" said one planter in a
tone of deep commiseration for the unfortunate freed-
men, "if you had seen them in slave days, what a
merry, rollicking, laughing setv they were ! Now they
are careworn and sad. You hardly ever hear them
laugh now as they used to do."
That many of them are poorer is beyond a doubt.
But this was exactly what had to be looked for at first
even by those who fought for emancipation. In any
country the subversion of the whole system of labour,
especially if it meant the turning adrift of four millions
of negroes unaccustomed to provide for themselves,
would necessarily involve much confusion and distress,
even under the most favourable circumstances. But in
the South it was effected under circumstances as un-
favourable in many respects as could possibly be con
ceived It was effected forcibly and without preparation :
it was effected in regions wrecked and devastated by
war : it was effected in violent opposition to the will of
the people on whom its success largely depended, who
ARE THEY POORER THAN IN SLAVERY. 49
predicted that it would be a failure, some of whom
seemed to me, in the exasperation of defeat, to wish it
to be a failure, and in many cases, by withholding their
land and refusing to employ negro labour, did some
thing to make it a failure.
The distress that would have attended emancipation
under any circumstances was thus enormously increased,
and was so great that the Government had to establish a
Bureau for the issue of supplies to keep many of the
freed negroes from starving. But I was assured by the
Bureau officers, wherever I went, that things were right
ing themselves ; that the negroes were finding employ
ment, and that the number needing Government aid
was rapidly diminishing. These representations were
borne out by General Howard's official report, which
showed that the number of negroes for whom the
Bureau had to provide had fallen from upwards of
166,000 in 1866 to fewer than 2000 in 1869. Since
which time this part of the Bureau's work has been
discontinued, as no longer necessary.
Later accounts are even more favourable. Mr. E. P.
Smith, with whom I visited the Mission Home at
Beaufort, and whose annual tour round the South for
the express purpose of observation makes him an
authority on this subject, says in his report for this
year (1870) : — "I have seen unmistakable signs of im
provement every year, but never more evidence of
increasing industry, thrift, and general prosperity, than
this season, and the advance from the winter of 1866 is
surprisingly great. You see it in every aspect of life, in
material comfort, in education, in morals. Poverty has
decreased. There is still suffering among the aged and
sick, but not a tithe of what was to be seen on every
VOL. II. D
50 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
hand three years ago. The negroes at church and their
children at school indicate altogether more comfortable
circumstances, they dress better and more neatly, and
there is a new manliness in the carriage and faces of
the people. On every hand there are tokens of steady
progress."
There is probably a worthless class of negroes who
are and will always remain worse off than in slavery,
but with large numbers the reverse is the case already,
and the vast majority have at least better hopes than
they could ever have had in bondage.
It may be true that they laugh less now than they
did, but the white man laughs still less, and yet he
would not be a negro ; neither would the freedman,
because he laughs less now, wish to be again a slave.
The reason for his laughing less is very simple — freedom
has advanced him a step from childhood to manhood.
In doing so it has brought upon him a responsibility
and care to which he was a stranger before ; but the
gravity of higher responsibility is only the shadow cast
from a higher happiness.
All this talk about the negroes being happier in slavery
I heard amongst the white people, but rarely if ever
amongst the negroes themselves. Many of the poorest
of them told me that they had to put up with coarser
food in the meantime, and poorer clothing than they
used to have, and that they had a hard struggle even
for that ; but the usual wind-up was, — " But tank de
Lord, we'se free, anyhow."
I heard many complaints about negro indolence, and
the impossibility of getting the blacks to work without
IDLENESS ACCOUNTED FOE. 51
some kind of compulsion. I certainly saw a great num
ber of them idle, especially in the towns.
The worst case I remember was that of a man whom
we found snoring in bed at noon. The missionary, who
was with me, said to his wife, " I am sorry to see that
your husband is not well V
" Oh, he 's quite well, sah," replied the woman ; " but
he says he's free now, and can lie in bed when he
like."
Few cases were so bad as that, and many cases turned
out, on inquiry, to be much more excusable than they
seemed.
I remember a Southern planter telling me that he
had offered employment to more than a hundred idle
negroes, but that not one of them would have it. I
thought this a strong fact, but deemed it advisable to
see what the negroes had to say to it. My inquiries
proved that while the planter's statement was perfectly
correct, as far as it went, it altogether omitted the ex
planation. The facts turned out to be these : — The
planter had hired the negroes the previous year, bar
gaining to give them the value of half the amount of
cotton they raised, deducting expenses. When the crop
was sold the negroes came for their share. The planter
told them that, unfortunately, owing to the fall in cotton,
the crop had scarcely paid expenses, so there was nothing
for them this year ; but he hoped the next year would
prove better.
This might be a perfectly true statement of the case,
but the negroes could not understand it. All they
knew was, that they had worked for half the crop and
had got nothing. Accordingly, when the planter offered
52 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS
to re-engage them next year on the same terms as before,
they could not see it. But probably there are white
labourers who could not have seen it either. One of
the negroes whom I questioned on the subject said, —
" I 'm willin' to wu'k, sah, and I want to wu'k, 'cos I 'm
mighty ill off ; but I won't engage to wu'k another year
till I knows I 'm gwine to get paid at the end of it." It
was the same with the others. It can scarcely be won
dered at if compulsion would have been needed to make
the negroes work under such circumstances as these.
I made inquiries also amongst those whom I found
swarming into cities and towns, instead of staying in
the country where their labour was needed. I found
that, while some had come to eat the bread of idleness,
many had come for safety ; others to get their children
to school ; others to seek for work that would be
paid for.
Even with reference to the worst class of cases —
such as that of the man snoring in bed at noon, and
others, in which remunerative work was to be had, and
yet was not taken advantage of — two things need to
be remembered. The first is, that slavery has to be
credited with a share of the blame. It was part of the
teaching of slavery that a gentleman was one who lived
without working. Is it wonderful that some of the
negroes, who want now to be gentlemen, should have
thought of trying this as the easiest way ? The second
point is, that the negroes, in so far as idleness exists "
amongst .them, are not exceptional people. On the con
trary, I found more activity and more desire for work
amongst the poor negroes than amongst the poor whites.
I suppose it is natural for many, especially in a hot
climate, to be idle when they can afford to be ; and the
WORKING BETTER THAN IN SLAVERY. 53
question is, Whether a black man, if he can afford it,
has not just as much right to be idle as a white man
has ? Why should more love of work, for work's sake,
be expected of the black than of the white man ?
But if many of the negroes (like many of the whites)
were idle, this was not the general rule, and still less
is it so now. In a single State, the Bureau registered
50,000 contracts between the negroes and their old
masters. Many freedmen had bought and were work
ing upon farms of their own; and that very year (1868),
in spite of the wrecked condition of the country, matters
were so far mending that 2,700,000 bales of cotton were
sent to market, being 500,000 bales more than had been
produced in 1865, and within 30 per cent, of the amount
produced in the golden days before the war, notwith
standing the fact that more land had now to be used
for the growing of food.
Planters and employers who were able to pay seemed
to find no difficulty in getting the negroes to work.
General Abbott, a Northern capitalist, who had settled
in North Carolina, told me that as soon as it was found
that he was paying his hands regularly, he had far more
negroes applying for work than he could take on.
A great rice planter in Georgia, a Southern man, who
had been able to save something from the wreck of the
war, and could guarantee payment to his negroes, de
clared that they were not only working as well, but
•working better than they ever did as slaves.
" You will see them in the rice fields now," he said,
" working up to the waist in water. I wouldn't have
sent them in like that if they had been slaves. It
would have been too dangerous, and therefore too ex
pensive."
54 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
It is said that the negro, even if willing to work,
could not hold his own in competition with the white
man. This may be true of some occupations; it is
certainly not true of all. It is extra work for a white
man to cut two cords of wood in a day ; a negro will
cut three, sometimes four. The Georgian planter, to
whom I have just referred, said he had tried Irish
labourers in his rice fields, but had found them unfit
for the work, and had fallen back upon his old negroes,
who wrought so well that he had been enabled to raise
first-rate crops, and had netted that year 70,000 dollars.
At Andersonville, where extensive public works were
going on, the Bureau officer told me that he had tried
white Southern labourers — poor whites, or " crackers," as
they are called — but was turning them off and taking
on negroes instead. He found the negroes could do the
work as well, if not better, and were much more easily
managed.
A Southern magazine — The Land we Love (March
1866) — edited by an old Confederate General, and there
fore not likely to be biassed in favour of the negro
versus the white man— goes further. " The Irish," it
says, " are reckoned the strongest men in Europe, but
they are deficient in strength and endurance compared
with the negro. Some fifteen years ago, a hundred
Irish ditchers were employed on the James Eiver and
Kenawha Canal, and at the same time a hundred negro
men, 'field hands,' not accustomed to ditching, were
set to labour with them. A rivalry sprang up between
the parties, and they did their utmost to excel one
another. But it was soon seen that the untrained
negroes could do far more work than the Irish."
It would seem, therefore, that in some occupations,
SAVINGS' BANKS. 55
the very ones for which there is the largest and most
constant demand, the negro is quite able to hold his
own. He does so in Canada and the North; much
more likely is he to do so in the South, where there are
kinds of labour which, from the peril they involve to
white life, will probably remain a negro monopoly.
We are told that the negro is incurably thriftless,
and that this will prevent him from ever making ad
vance. Thriftlessness, no doubt, is one of the negro's
besetting sins, and one of which it will take a great
deal of training to cure him. But slavery, which pro
vided everything for him, confirmed, instead of seeking
to remove, this tendency ; while freedom, which com
pels self-support, and offers powerful motives to thrift,
gives just the training he needs. I found many
thrifty, prosperous, and even wealthy blacks in the
North. The 18,000 negroes in Philadelphia, in spite of
the white competition, which it was alleged would
push them to the wall, had, as early as 1837, acquired
$550,000 worth of real estate, and $800,000 worth of
personal property. They had built sixteen churches,
had eighty benevolent societies, and had spent in that
one year $70,000 in purchasing the freedom of friends
in slavery. In Washington, one of the wealthiest men
in the city (Mr. Lee) is a coloured man.
Amongst the better class of emancipated slaves in
the South, I found similar provident habits rapidly
forming. Savings' banks, friendly societies, and build
ing associations were springing up amongst them, and
many were purchasing houses and land. In the
single town of Macon, Georgia, they had purchased
200 buildings. In Savannah, during the month I was
56 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
there, they had laid past in the Savings' bank $5679,
being $2300 in advance of the previous year, notwith
standing the bad season. In their Savings' banks,
throughout the South, they had deposited $1,500,000
since their emancipation three years before. More
recently the progress has been still more rapid. Dur
ing this last year, 180 negroes have bought places
around Augusta; 220 have built houses in Atlanta ; at
Columbia, where one black mechanic has already
amassed a fortune of $50,000, forty heads of families
have purchased city property for homes, at from $500
to $1200 each, within six months; and on the islands
near Charleston, 2000 freedmen's families have located
themselves, built their houses and cabins, and paid for
their little farms. I heard complaints from many
coloured men, who had saved some money and wanted
to buy land, that the landowners would not sell to
negroes. But this evil is being remedied. The South
Carolina Legislature, last year, appropriated $200,000
for the purchase of large estates, cut them up into
farms, and offered them for sale to the freedmen and
the poor of all colours. Forty thousand acres of this
land have already been sold ; and the Legislature has
accordingly resolved on an appropriation this year of
$400,000 more. It is very probable that the other
re-constructed States will follow this example. The
freedmen's deposits in their Savings' banks have rolled
up now to an aggregate of $12,000,000 ; and the
cashiers, who keep a note of the purpose for
which sums are withdrawn, report that in a large
proportion of cases it is for the purchase of lands
and houses. The deposited savings of the past year
exceed those of the year before to the extent of
SELF-EDUCATION IN SLAVERY. 57
$558,000. And yet we are told that the negroes are
incurably thriftless !
But the most amazing and hopeful feature of all is
the wide-spread desire which is found amongst them
for education. This seems to have developed itself
even in slavery, and many were the ingenious ways in
which some of them contrived to pick up a smattering
of book-knowledge in spite of prohibitory laws and
vigilant masters. One negro who served in a private
family contrived to pick up his letters in this way : He
had been sent one day to do something to the stove in
the room where the governess was teaching the children.
He did his work as quietly as possible, listening to the
governess, watching stealthily the letters to which she
pointed, and trying to fix in his memory the names
she gave them. He made his work at the stove last as
long as possible, and went away with half the alphabet
in his memory. After that, when cleaning the room
in the morning, he would examine these letters care
fully, and go over their names. But how to get the
names of the rest ! — that was now his difficulty.
One morning the little boy came into the room.
The two were alone, and Sam thought, " Now is my
chance."
"You'se mighty smart wid your lessons, I hears,
Massa Tom," he said.
Master Tom assented promptly.
" Reckon you know a mighty heap of dem tings
on de wall dere. But you dunno," he said experi
mentally, "what dem black tings is," and pointed to
the alphabet.
" I do. I know every one of them."
58 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
" Come now, you dunno wliat dey call dis chap,
standin' wid his legs in de air ? "
"Yes I do. That's Y."
" Wye ! Lor' what a name to gib him ! But you
dunno de name of dis yar one sittin' on de ground ? "
" Yes, I do. That 's L."
" L ! Why, Massa Tom, you knows eberyting.
Eeckon you know dat one too," — pointing to another ;
and so he went on till he had got the names of all the
letters he had previously missed. This man, before the
war came to set him free, had learned to read and write
with tolerable ease.
I remember the case of another, who had begun his
secret self-education by studying the letters engraven on
his master's spoons and plate, which it was his business
to polish ; and of another, a black groom, who learned
to spell from noticing the signboards above the shop-
doors, and t printing the letters on the dust upon the
stable-floor.
This desire for education was one of the first things
that showed itself when the war began to set the slaves
free. When General Banks took command in Louisiana,
and opened black schools, the slaves swarmed in from all
quarters — parents bringing their children and sitting
in the school beside them to learn the same lesson.
When there seemed a danger of this work having to be
suspended, Superintendent Alvord described the con
sternation of the negro population as intense. " Peti
tions," he said, " began to pour in. I saw one from the
plantations' across the river, at least thirty feet in length,
representing about 10,000 negroes. It was affecting to
examine it, and note the names and marks ( + ) of such
a long, long list of black fathers and mothers, ignorant
BLACK SOLDIERS LEARNING TO SPELL. 59
themselves, but begging that their children might be
educated, promising to pay for it even out of their
extreme poverty."
When Sherman's army entered Savannah, black
schools were opened there also — one of these in
Bryant's Slave Mart, where, only a few days before,
negroes had been sold by auction. The school was no
sooner opened than 500 black pupils were enrolled —
the negroes themselves contributing $ 1000 to support
the teachers.
When the army entered Wilmington, the same enthu
siasm was witnessed. Schools were opened by teachers
connected with the American Missionary Association,
who accompanied the army. One of them (Mr. Coan)
said, — " I was to meet the children at the church door
next morning at nine ; but before seven the street was
blocked, and the yard densely crowded. Eager parents,
anxious to get ' dese yer four childern's name token, oh
please, sah ! ' came struggling through the throng. ' Oh,
sah, do please put down dese yer.' ' Dis gal of mine,
sah, wants to jine ; and dat yer boy he 's got no parents,
and I jes done and brought him.' The countenances of
those who were pressing forward from behind told of
fears that they might be too late to enroll before the list
was filled up."
" The same evidences of joy inexpressible was mani
fest," he said, " at the opening of the evening schools
for black adults. About a thousand pupils reported
themselves in less than a week."
The same desire for education had already been ob
served amongst the fugitive slaves who had fled within
the Union lines, and been formed into regiments to
fight for the freedom of their race. At Camp Nelson,
GO THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
where 4000 of them were stationed, they begged for
schools, recognising the importance of preparing them
selves at once for the freedom they had won. Mr. Fee,
one of the teachers, said that, often, riding through the
camp, he saw amongst the companies resting from drill,
numbers of black soldiers availing themselves of the
opportunity to prepare their lessons for next day. They
earned these books with them when the army marched ;
and one of their officers told me that he had sometimes
seen them gathered round the bivouac fires at night
eager over their spelling-books, hearing each other
spell, or listening to one of their number who had got
on far enough to be able to read to them from the Bible.
After a battle, these spelling-books and Bibles were
often found upon the bodies of the dead.
When the war closed in 1865, and the gates of the
South were thrown open, the extraordinary spectacle
was beheld of an ignorant and enslaved race springing
to its feet after a bondage of two hundred years, and
with its first free breath crying for the means of edu
cation. In immediate response to this cry, the Freed-
men's Bureau, the Quakers (who have been perhaps the
most faithful, consistent, and self-sacrificing friends of
the negro from the first), the American Missionary
Association, and various other societies, began to scatter
their teachers over the vast area of the South, till schools
glimmered out over that vast expanse like stars on the
brow of night.
It may be doubted if history furnishes a parallel to
the extraordinary progress which has been made in the
education of these people within the short period that
has elapsed since their emancipation.
The work may be said to have begun with the little
LOVE OF SCHOOL- WORK. Cl
school opened at Fortress Monroe in 1861. Now, in
less than ten years, 4500 schools are in operation, nearly
10,000 teachers are at work, and more than 250,000
negroes, old and young, are under instruction, besides
those already educated. Twenty-five normal schools
and Black universities have also been opened, and are
attended by upwards of 4000 coloured students, drawn
from the ordinary schools, and preparing, most of them,
to become the educators of their own race.
I was told in South Carolina, that in that State alone
25,000 emancipated slaves were able to read the Bible,
who had not known their letters before the war. It is
now reckoned that in Virginia 50,000 negroes have got
instruction in the ordinary branches ; in Texas, 50,000
more ; and that in Louisiana the number of blacks who
are able to read is as great now as the number of whites.
On my way round the South I visited a large number
of these negro schools, and was amazed and delighted.
The day-schools were crowded for the most part with
black boys and girls, who were wonderfully eager over
their lessons, and seemed to have a real delight in
school-work.
" Please, ma'am," said a little ebony boy in Charleston,
when one of the schools was being closed for the sum
mer, " please for don't give us a long holiday. We like
de school better." The parents speak of their children's
love for knowledge with delight. " They needs no
drivin'," said one ; " they is always talkin' about their
teachers."
"I can't keep my Margaret from her book," said
another black woman, with a grin of satisfaction.
" Tears when she gets her dinner, she sit right straight
down to her lessen."
G2 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
An odd feature in some of these day-schools is the
presence of black men and women, who are either too
old or infirm to work, or else are out of employment at
the time. I have seen three generations sitting on the
same bench, spelling the same lesson, and seen classes
that included scholars of from three feet high up to six,
and from six years of age up to sixty. In one which I
examined, the dux was a quick bright-eyed little boy of
seven, next to whom came a great hulking negro of six
feet or above, who had been a plantation slave for nearly
twenty years, next him came a little girl, then a buxom
woman, then another child or two, then another man,
and so on, giving the class a very grotesque look.
Oddest of all, an elderly negro, who stood with earnest
face at the foot of the class, turned out to be father to
the little fellow at the top ! He was out of work at the
time, and, to his honour be it said, preferred coming and
standing at the foot of the class, with little girls above
him, and his own little boy at the top, to losing the
only chance he had of " gettin' larnin'."
When I spoke to him afterwards, and said how in
terested I was to see him so desirous of education, he
confided to me that he had great difficulty with words
of more than four letters, and some big ones he didn't
think he would ever be able to spell.
" I sees de first letter clar enough/' he said, " but after
dat, 'pears to me like puttin' out my foot in de dark. I
dunno whar to find de next step."
" But Mose !" he added, referring to his little boy,
" lor', sah, dat boy can go slick thro' a word as long as
dat "• — indicating half the length of his arm. " I 'specs,"
he added proudly, " they '11 make a scholard of him."
To see the eagerness of the older negroes, however,
EAGERNESS OF OLD PEOPLE. 63
one needs to go to the night-schools. In some of these
I found one, two, or three hundred black men and
women, some of them so old that they needed a strong
pair of spectacles to see even the letters on the charts.
Most of them had been brought up in utter ignorance,
and were so unused even to the sight of type, that they
had great difficulty in keeping the letters of a word
separate to the eye, and preventing them from running
together. I have seen an old spectacled negro, sitting
by himself, spelling out his lesson, and using his
thumb nails to hide all the letters except one at a time,
to prevent them from dazzling his eye or distracting
him.
Another scene comes back to my mind with peculiar
vividness. It was an adult class that was up for spell
ing. Half-way down stood a great awkward-looking
negro man, who held his head as if a cold key had been
stuck down the back of his neck, and who kept his eyes
fixed earnestly upon the teacher. The word "revela
tion" had just been given; those above this big
negro had tried it and failed ; each one was allowed
three trials, and it was now his turn. His manifest
anxiety to be right, especially after the others had
failed, was very ludicrous to behold. He thought a
moment, rubbed the side of his head with his huge
hand, as if to waken up all his faculties, and then with
an expression of prodigious anxiety began. He broke
down at the second syllable, and had to begin again.
He tried hard, but failed at this attempt also. By this
time the perspiration was standing in drops on his brow.
He began for the third and last time, got out letter after
letter, his eyes fixed upon the teacher with the expres
sion they might have had if she had been holding a
G4 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
pistol at his head, and when at last he got through,
and the teacher said " Correct," he took a huge breath,
wiped the perspiration from his brow, grinned from ear
to ear, and rolled his delighted eyes round, as if to
receive the congratulations of the school.
Some of the old negroes, naturally stupid, and brought
up in slavery, had little chance of ever being able to
read with understanding; but others, in spite of their
disadvantages, were making astonishing progress. I
saw one old woman, who had been all her life a slave,
and was ninety years old before she began the alphabet,
who yet was able, within three months, to spell out
several verses of the Bible.
One of the young lady teachers at Natchez told the
following incident about one of the old black women in
her night-school : — " Aunt Anne, who was reading in
the Primer, came one day into the Sunday-school and
listened to the reading of the Commandments by some
of the little boys. The next day she came to my room,
and, handing me a Bible open at the 20th chapter of
Exodus, asked me to hear her read the Ten Command
ments, saying she knew she should make mistakes, but
not to correct her till she had finished. I heard her,
and had only two corrections to make. I then asked
her how she had learned to read them so well ? She
answered, ' Miss Hattie, when I heard those little boys
say them in Sunday-school yesterday, I thought I could
never go there agin. It hurt me so to think they could
say by heart what I, an old woman, could not even read.
You don't- know how bad it hurt me. Den I said to
myself, ' 1 11 know them, too ; so I took my Bible and
went off to the woods, where nobody could hear me, and
picked dem out, and now I'se so proud I can read
FOUR MILES TO SCHOOL. 65
dem.' . . . Aunt Anne was once severely whipped in
slave days for attempting to learn to read."
Nothing is more interesting than to see the joy of
these people when they have got their first lesson, and
feel that one step to " larnin' " has actually been taken.
A poor woman who feared that she would never be
able to learn anything, was shown the letter " 0" in a
book.
" You see this round thing ?" said the lady.
" Yes, mahm."
" That's ' 0'. Let me hear you say ' 0' ?"
The woman repeated the sound.
" Well, that is one of the letters of the alphabet.
Whenever you open a book and see that letter, you will
know that it is '0'."
The delight of the woman was unbounded. She
looked at the Scripture texts on the wall, picked out
every " 0," and, with an exclamation of joy, hurried
home to show off her acquisition to her family. After
that she became a regular attender at the night-school,
and was soon able to read.
I remember, in the night-school at Montgomery,
Alabama, noticing amongst the others a perfectly black
man of about fifty years of age studying a big Bible
that lay on the desk before him. The eager expression
of his face as he spelt out word after word to himself,
making every letter with his lips as he went along,
attracted my attention, and I asked the teacher who
he was.
She said, — " He is a labourer on a farm a good way
out of town. He has to walk four miles here, and four
home again ; but he is here every night as punctual
as the clock, and studies hard to the last minute. He
VOL. II. E
66 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
never tastes his supper till he gets home. His work
only stops about an hour before the night-school opens,
so he comes away without his supper that he may be
here in time."
It is a habit amongst white people to look down
upon the blacks ; but it would be interesting to know
how many uneducated adults in England, Scotland, and
Ireland — white people though they be — are striving, as
the negroes in those night-schools are doing, to make up
for the educational deficiencies of early years ! Amongst
the lowest class of whites of the South, who are almost
as illiterate as the negroes, I wish I could have seen a
tithe of the same desire for self- improvement.
At the time of my tour through the South, 40,000
black men and women were attending these schools,
many of them parents, and even grand-parents. There
is surely hope for a people who, freshly out of slavery,
are found pressing with such eagerness through the
gates of knowledge ; and who, although so poor, con
tributed, in that single year, $200,000 towards the
education of themselves arid their children. If this
work of education goes on, it will develop amongst these
people higher wants, and higher wants will develop
greater and more varied activity.
Many who admit the widespread desire amongst the
freedmen for education, still say that it will end in
nothing ; that, with a few exceptions, the negro is in
capable of culture ; that you can carry him on a little
bit, but there he stops, and you can make nothing more
of him.
Whether the negro is capable of as high culture as
the white man is a question which I do not pretend to
settle. I believe there are differences between races
CAPACITY. 67
as there are between individuals of the same race.
Even in the same family we find one boy cleverer than
his brothers ; and in the family of mankind one race is
found to excel in one point, another race in another ;
and the white race has shown more energy, more grasp
of thought, and more power of command than the black
race. But a boy in the family, who is not naturally so
gifted as his brother, may be capable of immensely im
proving by education ; and this I take to be the case
with the negro. Let me mention one or two facts.
In the course of my tour through the South I heard
about 10,000 negro scholars of all ages examined in the
different schools. Those who had been begun at the
same age as white children seemed, under the stimulus
of white teachers, to be getting on just as fast — making
allowance, of course, for their want of help at home.
Amongst those who had been brought up in slavery
without education — including some who had been
whipped for attempting to educate themselves — and
who had thus been prevented from entering school till
they were twelve, twenty, forty, or sixty years of age,
there was a good deal of backwardness. But in Canada
and the North, amongst coloured youths who had been
able to begin at the right time, and were going on,
there seemed no such limit to their progress as there
is alleged to be. In some schools in Upper Canada I
saw black scholars sitting on the same bench with
white scholars, and the teachers assured me that, for
the work, such as it was, the black scholars were quite
as competent as the white. At Oberlin College, Ohio,
where blacks and whites, males and females, all study
together, and where the course of study embraces Latin
and Greek, mathematics, and natural and mental philo-
68 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
sophy, the black students are still found perfectly
competent. This does not look as if the negro were
incapable of culture. Many individual cases might be
adduced to confirm the same inference, and carry it
even further. At Toronto University, the man who
carried the gold medal one year was a coloured man.
At Oberlin, two years before I was there, the student
who graduated at the head of the whole college was a
negro girl, Miss Jackson, whom I afterwards found at
Philadelphia, at the head 'of the Coloured Institute.
Mr. Bassett, who was then Principal of that Institute,
and has since then been appointed by General Grant
as United States Minister to Hayti, is also a negro.
Langster, another graduate of Oberlin, and one of the
most eloquent advocates I heard in the States, is also a
negro. Frederick Douglass and Sella Martin, two of
the ablest platform orators in America, are both negroes.
The poets, Frances Harper and Maria Child, also be
long to the despised race. The astronomer Banneker
was a Maryland negro. The present Senator for the
State of Mississippi, the present Secretary of State for
South Carolina, the present Lieutenant-Governor of
Louisiana, are all negroes. There are negro graduates
in the pulpit, negro editors of newspapers, negro authors,
negro merchants, negro magistrates, negro sheriffs, and
negro judges, acting efficiently side by side with white
men, and yet we are told that the negro is unfit for
education — that he can be brought on a little bit, but
after that falls back, and you can make nothing more
of him.
The negroes I have named may be exceptional. But
they show not the less the possibilities that lie waiting
for development in the negro brain ; and they allow
BEECHER ON NEGRO SUFFRAGE. 69
us to hope that they will cease to be exceptional when
the negro has come to enjoy, as he is now beginning to
do, the same opportunities as the white man for de
veloping what power he has.
The wisdom of enfranchising the negro the moment
he emerged from slavery is a matter of more doubt.
In some respects it was a political necessity; but
events have only pushed Eepublicanism forwards to
consistency. For, in a government which derives its
right from the consent of the governed, why should
four millions of the governed be gagged? And, in a
Government which says that taxation without represen
tation is tyranny, why should representation be refused
to the coloured people, who are taxed as heavily as the
whites are, and who were paying into the United States
Treasury the year I was there, on their cotton alone,
about $20,000,000 ?
It is easy to say " They should have been educated
and fitted for the franchise first, and then been granted
it." But it may be doubted if they would ever have
been granted it, or even been allowed the education
which would have fitted them for it, or had any fair
field for self-development, unless they had been enabled
by means of the suffrage to secure these for themselves.
And, perhaps, after all, the speediest way of preparing
a negro, or any other man, to exercise the suffrage, is
to give it him. As Beecher said, " Voting wisely comes
from voting often. In the very blunders the negro
makes — in the very misses he marks upon the board —
he is being trained. Do you suppose those haughty
candidates of the South would trouble themselves to
pour into the black ear the reasons against such and
such policies, if it were not that the black man carries
70 THE EMANCIPATED BLACKS.
the talisman of a vote ? A vote turns every politician
into a schoolmaster. Negro suffrage makes all the
Southern politicians professors in black universities, as
it were; it makes every politician interested in the
negro's voting, and willing and anxious to explain to
him his side of his cause. Who, before, thought it
worth while to explain to Pompey or Cuffee anything
about laws or political principles ? Now the negroes
are hearing wonderful things about the best laws and
the best principles of government. Is not that educa
tion ? It is the vote which is to educate these men as'
well as the schoolhouse."
It has also to be admitted that 'the enfranchised
negroes have, in general, exercised their new power
quietly, considerately, and well — with far more regard
for their old masters, and far less prejudice of race than
could have been anticipated. In attending the con
stitutional conventions, sitting in the different Southern
States, I heard no men speak more earnestly against
repudiating the public debt, and maintaining the hon
our of the State than negro members, although that
debt had been contracted by their masters, not by
them, and would, if recognised, involve a tax upon
themselves.
Similar evidence of good sense, under responsibility,
was showing itself in the courts of justice, where
negroes were, for the first time, permitted to act on
juries. In one case, I remember, a coloured man was
tried for assaulting a white man, and was summarily
convicted by a negro jury, who, although their pre
judices were appealed to, refused to allow these to in
fluence their sense of justice.
The Southern people themselves were everywhere
HOPE. 71
admitting that the negroes were conducting themselves
better than they had thought they would. " They are
behaving so well," said one old Southern politician,
" that I have more hope of them than I ever had or
ever thought I could have had. And, of course," he
said, " if negro suffrage is to be a fixed thing here, the
sooner they are educated the better." This is just
Beecher's idea. Negro suffrage, unless it bring about a
collision of races, will make it the interest of the South
to have the coloured people educated, and fitted, as
quickly as possible, for their new responsibilities.
72 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
VI.
NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
THE broadest differences that strike one between the
black and white people in the South, are those that are
found amongst the poorer and more ignorant class of
negroes. Education, in school and public life, is rapidly
assimilating the higher classes of coloured people to the
whites in manners and modes of life ; but amongst the
lower classes, especially on the plantations, there is
still a good deal of the child, and a touch of the un
sophisticated savage. They are fond of eating, fond of
ornamenting themselves, and fond of gaudy colours.
Envelopes of a deep crimson dye were in vogue amongst
them when I was there. " Freedmen's envelopes," they
were called. The same weakness is observable in their
dress. You sometimes see a woman with a red parasol,
a green turban, and a yellow dress; or one so poor as
to be in rags, yet wearing ear-rings, and half-a-dozen
brass rings on each hand. The black dandy sports a
white hat, red necktie, and flowered vest. He likes to
carry a cane too, not only because it looks stylish, but
because in slave days he would have been whipped or
fined if he had appeared with one ; and its possession
is a symbol of his freedom.
They are very easily imposed upon, which is not a
happy thing for any man, black or white, in America.
FONDNESS FOR BIG WORDS. 73
A Yankee pedlar had been round, two years before, mak
ing a little fortune amongst them, by selling a powder
which, he said, if rubbed daily upon the skin, would
make black people white. Many of the poor planta
tion negroes, who thought a short and easy way had
been opened up for escape from the disabilities of their
race, bought the powder largely, and may, for all I
know, be rubbing themselves with it still. Another
pedlar, taking advantage of the report, at the close of
the war, that rebel property would be confiscated and
divided amongst the blacks, went through the South
selling little painted sticks which, he said, if stuck in
a plot of ground belonging to a rebel, would secure
that plot to the person who put in the stick. In some
districts these bits of wood went like wild-fire. Credulity
of this sort will, of course, diminish with the spread of
knowledge.
The negroes have a curious weakness for big words.
I remember a black waiter at Lexington asking me if
I would "assume" a little more butter. Another in
formed a meeting that " various proceedings had to be
exercised." One requires to be very careful amongst
them about the words he uses, for a black man clutches
at a polysyllable as a hungry man would clutch at a
loaf, and will use it on the first opportunity that pre
sents itself, whether he understands its meaning or not.
At a negro prayer- meeting, which I once addressed, I
happened to speak of this life as a state of probation —
no simpler word occurring to me at the moment. Black
speakers are much given to what they call " the im
provement" of the previous speaker's remarks. The
coloured gentleman who followed me improved my ob
servation by reminding the meeting, with great vehe-
74 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
mence, that, " as our white brudder says, we is all in a
state of prohibition /" As the majority of the audience
had probably never heard either word, the one expres
sion served just as well as the other. One of the
teachers in the same city told me that a negro who had
heard somebody referred to as " our venerable brother,"
introduced their missionary, Mr. Eberard, with great
pleasure to his people as his "venomous brudder." On
another occasion he entreated the Lord to convict the
people of their sin, and make them smite on their
breasts "like the Ee- publican of old." Another man
was in the habit of using in his prayers the tremendous
word " disarumgumptigated " — the origin or significance
of which no one in the place had ever been able to
discover. He prayed that " their good pastor might be
disarumgumptigated," and that " de white teachers who
had come from so far to construct de poor coloured folks
might be disarumgumptigated." Whether they had been
disarumgumptigated or not, or how it would feel to be
so, they were unable to say. Wherever the good man
had found the word, it was evident that he reserved it
for all thoughts which needed a more impressive term
than any other he had in his limited vocabulary. The
length of the word made it peculiarly suitable for this
purpose, its capacity being sufficient for the biggest
idea he was likely to possess. This weakness for high-
sounding words is very common. To some of the un
educated negroes it seemed to be one of the great charms
of the associations which were being formed amongst
them for political and other purposes, that they invested
them with magnificent titles. The negro lad who served
at table in one family where I stayed was connected
with three societies. In one he was a Grand Tiler and in
UNREFLECTIVENESS. 75
another a Worshipful Patriarch. It was said that in a
third he held the office of Grand Scribe, though he was
only learning to write.
The same weakness shows itself in the names they
give to their little picaninnies. I had the pleasure of
patting the woolly head of a small coal-black urchin who
rejoiced in the name of Festus Edwin Leander Gannett,
who sat side by side with a little Topsy of the name of
Cornelia Felicia Thursday Mf Arthur. These are poor
specimens compared with what we should have if the
negroes were more inventive ; but, as it is, they confine
themselves to such names as they find around them, or
hear spoken about. In one mission-school at Macon we
found amongst the black children a Prince Albert, a
Queen Victoria, an Abraham Lincoln, and a Jeff. Davis.
Queen Victoria was called up to be examined for my
special behoof, but did nothing to add lustre to her
name. The names of the United States, the days of
the week, and the months of the year, are equally popular.
You might find a January Jones, a November Smith, a
Saturday Brown, and a Massachusetts Robinson, all
sitting in school together.
Amongst the uneducated negroes there is also ob
servable a great lack of reflectiveness and an indolence
of mind which makes them indisposed to think for
themselves. Often, in examining classes of negro
children, I remarked how ready they were to give
whatever answer they thought was expected, without
considering whether it was right or wrong. Let me
give one instance which amused me at the time.
Before leaving the youngest class in a school which
we were visiting, my companion (Eev. E. P. Smith) ad
dressed a few words to the children, told them we were
76 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
going away, never perhaps to return, and then wishing
to turn their thoughts upwards, he asked, — " Are we to
meet again ?"
The children thinking he wished them to back him
out in what lie had said about our not returning, shouted
with one voice, — " No !"
" Are you sure," asked Mr. Smith, hoping to make
them reflect ; " are you. quite sure we shall never meet
again ?"
The whole class answered with another shout, —
« Yes."
He paused a moment to think how he could put the
question differently, and then said, — " Now, I want you
to think about what I am going to ask. Do you know
that I am going to die by-and-by?"
" Yes."
Mr. Smith, brightening at the thought that he was at
last being apprehended — " Well, now, when I am dead
and buried, is that the end of me ?"
Chorus of voices — " Yes."
" The last of me ?"
" Yes."
" Does no one say ' No ?' "
All the voices—" No."
Mr. Smith was baffled but not discouraged. He
thought a moment, and then tried another tack.
" Does a horse go to heaven ? "
" Yes."
" What J— ahorse?"
Children see from his face that they are wrong, and
cry " No."
" Does a good man go to heaven ?"
« Yes."
GETTING INTO A FIX. 77
" Then shan't we go if we are good ?"
" Yes."
" So even though I die, we may meet again up there ?
— May we not ?"
Of course the answer was " Yes."
The teachers often told us this was one of the greatest
difficulties they had to overcome — to make the children
think for themselves.
On another occasion the Eev. Mr. Haley, one of the
missionaries in Georgia, wishing to teach a little class
the Lord's Prayer, told them to repeat what he said.
" Now, are you ready ?"
" Yes."
" Well, begin. ' Our Father'—"
The children repeated the words ; he gave the next
clause, and so on to the " Amen ; " but when he was
about to follow up the prayer with some advices to the
children, and began " I want now — " the children, never
thinking that they were to stop, repeated after him
" I want now."
" Stop, stop !" he said, " we are done repeating."
" Stop, stop !" echoed the children, " we are done re
peating."
" You misunderstand," said Mr. Haley.
" You misunderstand," said the children.
Mr. Haley saw that he had got himself into a hope
less difficulty, and sat down.
The teachers have to check this tendency to thought
lessness, by stopping the scholars frequently to ask the
.reason for this and the other thing, compelling them to
fall back upon their own resources. I was surprised to
find, when this was done, how of ten a scholar turned out to
have far more information, and far more acuteness, than
78 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
one would have supposed from his previous thoughtless
answers. This habit of mind helps to explain another
defect very common amongst the negroes, namely, a
lack of what we in Scotland call " gumption," — the
power of discovering how a thing should be done with
out being told, and of seeing what change of action
should be made to suit new circumstances. A negro is
often a first-rate executive officer — can do admirably
what has been chalked out for him — but is apt, if the
terms of the problem suddenly change, to get bewildered
and come to a stand-still. He makes a good soldier,
but rarely, as yet, a good officer. This seems to be partly
a natural defect, and partly a habit of mind, which dis
appears under proper training.
The negro mind seems deficient in power of generali
zation. When a black man is describing anything, you
will often hear him say that this person did so and
so, and that person did so and so, and the other person
did so and so, when a white man would say " They all
did so and so." The consequence is, that negro stories
spin themselves out to an incredible length. But if
weak in generalizing, he is strong in pictorial concep
tion. He thinks in tropes, and all his thoughts are
localized. He seizes with delight on anything that
appeals to the imagination. In Scripture his special
enjoyment is in the stories, parables, prophecies, and
visions, which put truth into a concrete and visible
form. This sensitiveness of the spiritual faculty tends,
amongst the more ignorant negroes, to superstition.
Many of -them see visions and dream dreams ; and
fortune-telling is still common amongst them, though
not so much as it was.
Their fondness for music is very noticeable. You
DISPOSITION. 79
hear them singing at their work in the house, the
factory, and the field. Even the slave -gangs in old
days used to cheer themselves with songs on their way
down South to be sold. Singing forms the most pro
minent feature in their religious services. They are so
fond of it, indeed, that I have seen them gather in the
place of worship long before the hour for commencing
the regular service, and occupy the intervening time in
singing hymns. At the mission homes, too, crowds of
black children will sometimes gather half-an-hour be -
fore school-time, and sing hymns till the doors are
opened. During school-hours, the teachers find that no
thing keeps the children fresher for their tasks than
frequent interludes of song. In general their singing
is very effective. They have fine voices, and a natural
turn for music. They do not seem to have much
originality in the way of producing new tunes, but the
facility with which they pick up airs often surprised
me. I remember, at one of their festivals, a white
gentleman who accompanied me sang a tune quite new
to them, using words with which they were familiar.
They listened with great interest and delight, and, as
soon as he had finished, they took up the tune and sang it,
with all the parts, far more effectively than he had done.
In disposition the negroes are very loveable, and one
becomes very much attached to them. They are affec
tionate, docile, and anxious to please ; and, amongst the
plantation negroes, I was often touched to see their
gratitude for any attention shown them, especially by
white people. At some of the mission homes, poor
negroes, hearing that a white stranger was there from
a far-off land, looking at their schools, often travelled
80 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
miles in from the country to see me. Some of them
have grasped my hand in both theirs, and, with tears
in their eyes, said, " God bless you, sah, for tinkin'
kindly of we poor coloured folks."
Their love and devotion to the men and women who
had come all the way from the North to teach them,
showed itself in a hundred little ways. Never a day
passed at any mission-home I visited, but some little
presents were brought to school, sometimes from the
parents, sometimes from the children themselves — an
orange, a flower, or a stick of candy, anything to express
their gratitude. One lady had got as many little blue
and white mugs from the children as would have started
a small crockery shop. Little letters too, written or
printed on scraps of paper, were continually being left
on the teachers' desks by negro boys and girls, who
were using their newly acquired power of writing to
testify their love for those who had come so far to
teach them. A number of these I brought away with
me. Some of them read very funnily, but the feeling
is the same.
Here is one from a little girl : —
" MY DEAR TEACHER, MRS. B., — I love you so well, and I
always love you for you are so good. My mother tells me
every day to obey my teacher, and never do what 's agin'st
her rule, and tells me to pray every day for my teachers.
Dear Mrs. B., I try to do right to please you every day,
but sometimes I does wrong. But I never means to do
wrong, for I love you to the bodum of my heart.
"FLORA B."
Here is another from a little black boy, who seems to
have found some difficulty in getting language for his
feelings : —
THE MAN WITHOUT SIN. 81
"MY AFFECTION Miss T — , I take it on myself to
writing you a letter, for I love you to my heart, and I
hope that you love me to, and if you don't, I do you, 0 I
do, and I hope that you do and I will. The roses red
the sugar sweet and sow is you. I love the very ground
you walk on, for you is so kind. You is so kind to your
scholars, indeed you is so kind, anyhow you is so kind to
everybody that is the reason I love you, because you is so
kind. And when you are afar off I shall never forget you.
This is the last from your beloved friend, W. B."
But the little boy's feelings were too deep to allow
this to be the last, for the week after there was another
note, which was also to be the last, but wasn't.
Let me mention another little incident as a further
illustration of the love and reverence with which these
negro children regard their teachers. The missionary
at Nashville was Mr. M'Kim — a man of singular piety
and devotion — who went in amongst the poor coloured
people and taught, and preached, and helped them in
every way, in the face of much obloquy and persecu
tion.
A clergyman from the North, who came to visit his
schools, addressed the children, and took occasion to
explain the doctrine of total depravity. " Now," he
he said, "do you think you understand it ? "
" Yes," cried the children.
" Well, I shall see. Do you know anybody who is a
sinner ? "
" Yes, yes."
That, by all accounts, was a piece of knowledge very
easy to acquire at Nashville.
The clergyman then asked, —
"Do you know any one who is not a sinner?"
"Yes."
VOL. II. F
82 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
"Are you sure?"
" Yes," louder than before, and every hand up.
The clergyman saw there was nothing for it but to
go back and explain the doctrine of total depravity
over again ; which he did — pointing out what the Bible
said about sin, and that there was none righteous, no
not one.
" I think you understand that now," he said.
" Yes."
" Well, then, do you suppose there is any person in
the world who has not sinned ?"
" Yes !" emphatically — every hand up again.
" What ! a person absolutely without sin ?"
" Yes."
"Who is it?"
" Mr. M'Kim," cried the whole school in a breath.
The clergyman found there was no use trying to
make them believe that Mr. M'Kim could be a sinner.
The affection and docility of the negro, and his
marked anxiety to please, make him a polite and ad
mirable servant. As far as my own experience went,
no service in America is equal to the black service.
Even in hotels, the promptness with which a black
waiter sets your chair, and the flourish with which he
hands you anything you want, make you feel that he
has a real pleasure in serving you.
He becomes readily attached to those about him, and
even in slavery was very faithful to a kind master. The
war supplied innumerable proofs of this. Great num
bers of slaves, who could easily have made their escape,
chose to remain with their masters. Many did so even
when Sherman's army came and set them free ; arid
many who left at first returned afterwards. I met
FIDELITY. 83
a negro man-servant in Virginia, who belonged to a
major in the Confederate army, and followed his master
through the war. He was with him at Gettysburg,
and was frequently under fire when carrying him coffee.
He told me he wanted the North to win, but that he
felt, at the time, that he would rather the North lost
that battle than gain victory over his master's body.
Another negro from Savannah was with Colonel
Gibbons in the same battle, which, it will be remem
bered, was fought in Pennsylvania, where, therefore, a
slave escaping from the Confederate lines was at once
free. The Colonel sent away this slave to a neighbour
ing farmhouse to fetch water for some wounded men.
By a marvellous coincidence the slave found his own
mother serving at the farmhouse. She and the others
urged him to avail himself of this opportunity to escape
from slavery, but he said, — " No, my master has trusted
me here, and I will go back."
The Southern people, themselves, bear ready testi
mony to the negro's fidelity. Many ladies, whose
houses had been plundered by the " bummers," told me
how their slaves had done their best to defend them
and their property, sometimes refusing, even under
torture, to reveal where the valuables were hidden.
In one case the troopers threatened an old negro servant
that they would bury him alive if he did not dis
close his secret, and actually dug a grave, put him in,
buried him, dug him up again, and told him the next
time would be final, but they could not force the secret
from him.
Mrs. A — , of Fayetteville, told me that she had a
faithful old negro, of the name of Tinsley, who used to
hire his time from her and work for himself. She said
84 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
that even after the war had set her old servant free
from all obligations, he used to put into her hand,
month by month, the usual portion of his earnings.
She had lost all her property by the war, and but for
good old Tinsley, she said, she would have been left
utterly destitute. Tinsley died in 1867. "But even
at the last," said the lady, " he had not forgotten
us. He left $600 to me, and $400 to one of my
family."
During the war, the negro showed his gratitude to
those who were fighting for his freedom by innumerable
acts of self-sacrifice and devotion.
At Rodman's Point, in North Carolina, a party of
Federals, attempting to escape from the enemy, leapt "
into a scow and pushed off'. Just as the enemy's bullets
began to rain around them, the barge grounded upon a
bank of mud. The soldiers crouched to escape the fire,
and the question was, who would jump out, at the peril
of his life, and shove the scow off ?
A strong black man who was with them said, — " Lie
still, I will push off the boat. If they kill me, it's
nothing ; but you are soldiers, and will be needed to
fight."
He leapt out, pushed the scow into deep water, and
fell, pierced by seven bullets.
I had the following from a lady in New York, who
knew one of the parties : — " A Federal officer attempt
ing to make his escape from Eichmond, was assisted by
a slave who knew the country. Suddenly they found
that the dogs were on their track. The negro there
upon directed the officer how to go, and, bleeding his
own foot, to draw the hounds after himself, struck off
in a different direction. The officer heard afterwards
COURAGE. 85
that the dogs had run down the negro and nearly torn
him to pieces before they were called off."
The negro's docility and imitative power make him
a fine subject for discipline. One sees this even amongst
the children in the coloured schools. Where the teacher
gives proper attention to it, the black children rapidly
attain the perfection of order. I remember in one school
seeing them enter. They marched in, in column, the
boys by one door, the girls by another, keeping step
with the precision of soldiers, deploying steadily along
the passages, and all at the same instant taking seats
like parts of one machine. Every movement was made
with the same precision. If a class was called up, at
the first touch of the spring-bell the class rose ; at the
second, faced about ; at the third, began its march to
the front.
It was this quality that allowed of the raw " contra
bands," who took refuge within the Union lines, and
volunteered to fight for the freedom of their race, being
moulded so rapidly into fine bodies of troops. Within
two years nearly 100,000 slaves were converted into
disciplined soldiers.
But these men showed grander qualities than docility.
It was doubted at first if the negro could or would fight.
The war, which brought between one and two hundred
thousand of them into the field against their old masters,
and tested them at the cannon's mouth and in the face
of Southern steel, has dissipated that illusion, and has
given the negro a higher place than he ever had before
in American estimation.
Colonel Higginson, who commanded a regiment of
emancipated slaves in an expedition up the St. Mary's
86 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
Elver, declared in his official report that he found a
fiery energy about his black troops beyond anything of
which he had ever read, unless it were the French
Zouaves. " During our first attack," he said, " before I
could get them below, they crowded at the open ends
of the steamer, loading and firing with inconceivable
rapidity, and shouting to each other, ' Neber gib it up !'
When collected in the hold, they actually fought each
other for places at the few portholes, from which they
might fire upon the enemy. The black gunners under
Mr. Heron of the gunboat did their duty without the
slightest shelter, and with great coolness, amid a storm
of shot. The secret of our safety lay in keeping the
regiment below, except the gunners ; but this required
the utmost energy of the officers, as the men were wild
to come on deck, and even implored to be landed on
shore and allowed to charge the enemy."
The records of the onslaught at Port Hudson, the
battles at Milliken Bend, Newmarket Heights, Olustee,-
Poison Springs, and the second attack on Petersburg,
abound with proofs of black valour. At the battle of
Honey Hill, South Carolina, where the black troops
occupied one of the most perilous positions, they stood
their ground so gallantly as to elicit the admiration
even of their enemies. One of the Southern accounts
of the battle said, that the negroes had charged thrice
with great fury, re-forming each time under fire, and
that in some places their dead lay in heaps.
Here is one incident of the fight : Private Fitzgerald
(a negro) was shot badly in the leg, but continued fight
ing. Major Nutt, observing his condition, ordered him
to the rear. The man obeyed, but the Major saw soon
after that he had returned to his post. He said sharply,
NEGRO COMPARED WITH WHITE TROOPS. 87
" Go to the rear, sir, and have your wounds dressed."
The man again obeyed, but in a few minutes more was
back with a handkerchief bound round his leg, and was
eagerly loading and firing as before. He had a wife and
children in slavery, and said afterwards he was thinking
of them.
In the desperate attack on Fort Wagner, the black
troops, though afterwards thrown into confusion by the
loss of their commander, made a magnificent charge,
gaining the parapet on the right and coming into hand-
to-hand conflict with the Confederates. Sergeant-Major
Lewis Douglass, the son of Frederick Douglass, the
negro orator, sprang upon the parapet when his Colonel
fell, and cried, " Come on, boys, let 's fight for God and
liberty ! " One of the black colour- sergeants, W. H.
Carney, reached the parapet also, received three severe
wounds, but would not relinquish the flag. When the
regiment was ordered to retire, Carney, streaming with
blood, limped along with the troops till he reached the
hospital, when he fell almost lifeless, saying, with a
proud smile, " The dear old flag has never touched the
ground, boys."
Such cases could easily be multiplied.
Speaking with General Abbott, who at one time
commanded a black brigade, I asked him what differ
ence he had found between negro and white troops.
He said, — " I have observed that negro troops, when
holding an exposed position, or advancing under a
galling fire, are more apt to be scared and 'demoralized'
than white troops, especially by shelling, but when it
comes to a charge, and their blood is up, they are
equal to any troops in the world." He said that, like
the Southern troops, they charged with a yell, and
88 NEGRO PECULIARITIES.
would hurl themselves upon the enemy with the
momentum of a thunderbolt.
Here is Geo. H. Boker's description of the first charge
by a Black Eegiment in the late war : —
"Dark as the clouds of even
Ranked in the Western heaven,
So, still and orderly,
Arm to arm, knee to knee,
Waiting the dread event
Stands the Black Eegiment.
Down the long dusky line
Teeth gleam and eyeballs shine,
And the bright bayonet
Bristling and firmly set,
Flashed with a purpose grand,
Waiting, till stern command
Of the fierce-rolling drum
Told them their hour had come —
Told them that work was sent
For the Black Eegiment.
' Now ! ' the flag-sergeant cried,
' Though death or hell betide,
Let the whole nation see,
If we 're fit to be free ! '
Oh, what a shout there went
From the Black Eegiment.
' Charge ! ' — trump and drum awoke,
Onward the bondmen broke,
Bayonet and sabre-stroke
Vainly opposed their rush
Through the red battle's crush.
On through the flickering brands,
Onward with hundred hands
Down they tear man and horse,
On, in their awful course,
Trampling with bloody heel
Over the crashing steel,
All their eyes forward bent
Eushed the Black Eegiment.
CHARGE BY THE FIRST BLACK REGIMENT. 89
' Freedom ! ' their battle-cry —
Freedom or leave to die —
Not then a party shout,
They gave their spirits out,
Trusted the end to God,
And on the gory sod
Rolled in triumphant blood ;
Glad to strike one free blow,
Whether for weal or woe —
Glad to breathe one free breath,
Though with the lips of death,
"Wishing, alas ! in vain
That they might fall again,
Only once more to see
That burst to liberty ! "
90 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
VII.
BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
SOMETHING ought to be made of the negro on his
religious side by good training. Nowhere in America
does one find such simple and childlike faith, such a
strong belief in the presence and power of God, such
fervour and religious enthusiasm as amongst the pious
negroes. They seem to see God bending over them
like the sky, to feel His presence on them and around
them, like the storift and the sunshine. "De Lord has
gib us a beautiful day, sah," was often the first remark
on some of those radiant spring mornings in the South,
and was accompanied by a bright glance upwards as if
to a visible presence. " If de Master wills," " De Master
knows," "Yes, tank de good Master," were expres
sions constantly on their lips. One old man was so
acustomed to thank the Lord for everything, that when,
to his great grief, the missionaries were taking leave,
he said, " Yes, our friends is gwine to leave us, tank de
Lord."
Many of them have strange inward experiences, and
believe that God gives them special revelations. I
remember at a night meeting at Andersonville, an old
negro, who would have done for another Uncle Tom,
told the audience, with tears in his eyes, how the Lord
had shown him wonderful things in a dream, and let
A VISION OF HELL. 91
him hear a song that no human ear had ever heard
before, and that had been a great comfort to his
soul ever since. He went over it to us, chanting it
solemnly with his hands clasped and his eyes closed ;
and though, on the supposition of its divine origin, it
did not reflect much credit on the Almighty's versifica
tion, few could listen to it from the old man without
emotion. It began : —
" When Paul departed from his friends
It was a weepiri' day ;
But if you hear the word in vain,
You shall tremble when you meet again
The minister you scorn."
Some of these visions help one to realize the spiritual
condition of the negroes, and the influences that have
been at work upon them. Let me give a specimen or
two of such. At Macon, a pious old woman told the
missionary one day that she had been to hell. " Not
to stay," she said. " It was a wision ; but even in de
wision I didn't go to stay, on'y to look around."
When asked what she had seen, she said, — " I saw
old Satan sitting over his hatchway, and he had a great
kettle on boiling, and I thinks it was fire and brimstone
was in it. People ain't happy," she added, " when they
git there, and Satan is mighty cross to 'em. When dey
whined and cried, Satan says, stamping his foot, ' Shut
up ! none of yer whining ; what did ye come here for,
if ye didn't want to ? Didn't ye have ministers to tell
ye better ? Now shut up ! I won't have a bit of it.'
There is a bell in one corner, and it is tolling all the
time, ' Eter-ni-tee — eter-ni-tee.' And they cry, ' Oh !
how long must I stay here ?' And Satan he says, ' A
little bird will come and tote away a grain of sand from
de shore, and it will come back in five year and tote
92 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
another, and you must wait till it totes de whole sand
away.' " She added, — " The Lord shows me everything
I ask Him to. I asked Him, Was He pleased with my
prayers ? If He was, would He show me a star in my
sleep ; and He did it. Then I cried, ' Lord, shall I ever
git to heaven?' and He told me, — ' Be faithful to the
end, and you shall be saved.' But I wasn't satisfied
with that, and says I, ' Lord, I's afeard to die — I's
afeard 1 11 never git to heaven ?' And He said, — ' In
the last hour 1 11 give ye dyin' grace.' Don't ye see,"
she added, " at first He gave me just grace enough to
git into the path, and now I's workin' for my dyin'
grace."
Speaking about sleeping on the Sunday, she said, —
" I never sleep away my Sunday now, only I nods a
little sometimes in my chair."
" Do you think it wrong to sleep on Sunday ?"
" Yes, honey, and 1 11 tell you why. One Sunday,
years ago, I spread a pallet by the fire and lay down for
a nap. I was just falling asleep when I felt some one
pulling my dress. I thought it was one of the chill' en,
and said ' Go way !' But just as I got nearly asleep
again, I felt the same pulling again, and I opened my
eyes to see who it was. There was nobody there. So
I knew then it was the Master ; and, says I, ' Lord, I
won't sleep your day away;' and I have never lain
down to sleep a- Sunday since. But I used to go out to
count my chickens and bring in my eggs a- Sunday.
Well, one Sunday morning I started and got about half
way to de fowl-yard, when I heard a voice, — ' This ain't
the day!" I stopped and listened, but started to go
on, but I heard de voice again, — * This ain't the day !'
Says I, ' Sure enough, Lord, this ain't the day ;' and I
AUNT NANCY. 93
turned round and went into the house. And I never
went out to count my chickens or bring in my eggs
a-Sunday after that. Sometimes Sally will cut up a little
kindling, Sunday," she said, referring to a sprightly
niece, " but it hurts me dreadful. I wouldn't do so
much as to grind a little coffee, Sunday. Them things
ought to be done Saturday."
Here is another vision enjoyed by Aunt Nancy, an
old negro woman who lives in a cabin in the outskirts
of Hampton, Virginia, and who in slave times was a
field-hand : — " One day I was hoeing in the field a
little, and I was thinking some has to go to heaven, and
some has to go to hell, when I hears a voice saying, —
' You 's agoin' to hell !' And says I, ' Lord, I thinks it
mighty hard I has to work and suffer while I live, and
go to hell when I die !' Den I heard a louder voice
say, 'A few more prayers — a few more prayers, and
den I '11 meet yer in the way of mercy.' So that night,
after I 'd done work, I thought I 'd go out to try and
find the Lord. I went out and looked all round in the
woods, and hollered as loud as I could, but I couldn't
find Him. Next day I went to Aunt Grace, and says
I, ' Aunt Grace, I 's come blind/ Aunt Grace said, —
' Dat 's all right ; pray on — a few more serus prayers.'
So de next night I went out again and hollered and
hollered, but I could not find Him. You see," she said,
" I thought I was gwine to see Him like a nat'ral man.
When I went home the cocks was crowin', and I crawled
up into the loft, and fell into a france, and in de trance
I was drawed away and away, and up to a great white
house, whar I knocked at the door. Well, a white lady
came to the door. She had black hair, and she laughed,
but she didn't make no sound in her laugh. I courtesied,
94 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
and said, 'How d'y?' and she said, 'How d'y?— don't
you know me ? ' I says, ' No.' Says she, ' You ought
to know me, look at me good.' Says I, ' I thinks
it 's the Virgin Mary.' ' Yes,' says she, ' come in ! '
And she took me into a large room, where there
was large dresses and little dresses hanging all round
the room. And she took off all the old rags I wore,
and put one of them white dresses on me. And she
put on a turban all covered with spangles, just like
little gold dollars, — you's seen um. And I had little
teenty feet, and she put little slippers on um. There
was a large mirror in the room, and she said, ' Now, go
and see how ye like yer new dress/ While I was look
ing, the door opened and a white man came in. He
had on black clothes, and a white vest, all covered with
little gold dollars, like my turban was. And he had a
ring on his head, covered with the dollars, and he had
two cups in his hands. He brought them to me and
said, — SALVATION and DAMNATION, which will ye have?'"
The old woman, as she told this, seemed much affected,
and said, with awestruck voice, " Oh, it 'pears like I
can see Him now !" She continued, " 'Lord,' says I/ 1 '11
have Salvation.' There was something white in the
cup, and I drank it. It was sweet, and I tasted it in
my mouth two or three days after. I left a little in
the cup, and he gave it back to me and said, ' Drink
all of it.' Then He said, ' My little one, now go back
to de world and coax sinners to come to me.' Mind,
He didn't say ' drive,' He said 'coax' 'em. Den de
virgin told me I must take off my white dress and leave
it there. I didn't want to leave it off, but she said,
' I '11 keep it for ye, and if ye prove faithful, ye shall
have it again.' Den I said to her, ' How 's I gwine
PRAYING FOR SHOES. 95
to git down ? ' Says she, ' How did ye git up ? ' 'I
come up by faith/ says I. ' Well/ sez she, ' yer gwine
down the same way.' So she took hold of me and
lifted me off, and I flew down just like a bird, and dere
I was in de loft again."
Many of the negroes attach great importance to these
visions. " De Master teaches we poor coloured folk in
dat way," said an old woman at the hospital in Mont
gomery, " for we hasn't edication, and we can't read
His bressed word for ourselves."
The childlike simplicity of their faith is another
striking feature of their religious character.
An old black woman in Norfolk, Va., came in a
ragged condition to one of the female missionaries,
who was distributing clothes to the destitute, and
begged a pair of shoes. The lady told her, with regret,
that the shoes were all gone.
" Oh no, honey, not all," said the old woman, " dere
mus' be some left. I prayed my Jesus dis mornin' for
shoes, and de voice came in my heart and said, ' Ask,
and it is given you !' "
The lady said she was sorry, but she had given the
last pair away that morning. The old woman said,
with a look of distress, " I did think my Jesus would
have give me shoes to-day."
There was an unopened box in the place, so the
lady got the lid off it, to see if any shoes were there.
She had searched half way through it, and was ready
to give up, when, near the bottom, she found two or
three pairs, one of them just the size. The old woman,
when she got them on, wept for joy. She said she
knew it would be so, for Jesus had promised.
They have great faith in the efficacy of prayer. A
96 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
good woman (Aunt Mary) whom I met at the Beech
Institute, Savannah, and who gave me a glowing account
of the day when Sherman's army came and set the slaves
free, said to the teachers, " We know'd it was a-comin',
'cos we prayed so for it. 'Specs we so tormented de
Lord, he was obleeged to send Massa Sharman dis yar
way."
One of the most remarkable features of their piety is
its tendency to excitement, which is probably one rea
son why so many of them belong to the Methodist and
Baptist churches, where this tendency gets freer scope
for development. Conversion with the negro is a
thunder-peal, followed by a deluge of the spirit, and a
bursting forth of the sun clearing the sky, and filling the
world with gladness. This is called " getting religion,"
and seems to excite irrepressible emotions. Sometimes,
for a whole week, before a negro gets religion, he goes
about in a state of great depression, much exercised in
mind about his sins and his lost condition. Then sud
denly, perhaps when mournfully waiting at table, or
going a message, or grooming the horses, he raises a
shout of joy, and runs about shaking hands with every
body, and crying " I Ve got religion ! Bress de Lord !
My sins is forgiven ! I am out of de pit ! Bress de
Lord! Hallelujah!" The first man whose hand he
shakes after getting religion he calls his father in the
Lord ; the first woman is his mother in the Lord. After
that he is a Christian. When the negro serving-man in
one family which I visited was converted, there was a
great disturbance in the kitchen — all the servants run
ning about shouting, "Dick's got religion ! — Dick's got
religion ! " When the lady of the house went down,
she found that Dick himself had bolted to the village,
RELIGIOUS SERVICES. 97
with several of the others after him, to proclaim the
( news, and shake hands with his brethren. Most of
them can name the day on which they got reli
gion ; and you often hear them enumerate the per
sons converted at a given meeting. A negro lad who
I sang me a weird hymn, in which the following verse
occurred, —
" You 'd better mind how you fool with Christ
In a moment you '11 be as cold as ice," —
paused, and said, " I saw six converted on that verse."
All their religious exercises partake of this exciting
L character ; and in some of their churches a service seems
to be regarded as a kind of failure unless the audience
gets itself worked up to frenzy. I remember, at an
evening service in Savannah, where the dimly-lighted
church swarmed with a black audience of nearly a
thousand people, a little excitable-looking negro, who
; turned out to be a revival preacher from up-country,
followed the regular pastor, and "improved " his discourse
by addressing frantic appeals to the people, under which
I they began to sway, and cry, and groan in the most ex
traordinary manner. Presently a shriek was heard, and
a young woman sprang into the air near one corner of
the church, and fell back amongst her friends, writh
ing and shrieking as if in a fit. Immediately after
wards another shriek was heard, and then another — the
preacher holding on with his appeal, which was a con
stant repetition of the same words, uttered with inter-
., jected gasps at the top of his voice, the audience sway
ing and groaning, the three convicted sinners struggling
and shrieking, while their friends, crying " Glory to
God ! Glory to God ! " were trying to hold them down.
These scenes are of continual occurrence, and many of
VOL. II. G
98 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
the coloured preachers evidently do their best to bring
them about, under the impression that they indicate the
presence of the Spirit of God. These excitements, more
particularly when they occur during the service of praise,
are called " shoutings." Hence the meaning of a negro
hymn, which puzzled me at first, beginning,
" My father died a-shouting,
Glory hallelujah;"
and going on in the following verses : — " My mother
died a-shouting," " My grandmother died a-shouting,"
and so on.
In the best churches these scenes do not occur, or occur
only in a modified form. The first coloured service I
attended was in Eichmond, in the Broad Street African
Church, where more than a thousand coloured people
attend service every Sabbath.
Before the war this church was presided over by a
white minister ; but since the negroes have got the
power to elect for themselves, they have elected a pastor
of their own colour. The service was very much like
that of a white congregation, saving in one or two par
ticulars. The hymns were sung with unusual fervour,
and when the last was given out the people began to
grasp each other's hands, singing all the time, and be
ginning to drift slowly out, much of the hand-shaking
and singing going on after the people had got into the
open air. The hymns sung were mostly Isaac Watts' ;
and the sermon would have passed muster in many
white churches. I heard much better sermons in other
black churches, where the ministers had been more
thoroughly educated. But at the camp meetings, and
in the little wooden churches and booths in which the
negroes congregate in country districts, the services are
STRUCTURE OF HYMNS. 99
very peculiar, and tend much more to excitement than
edification.
The hymns sung are generally original, and are of so
simple a structure that they can be spun out with ease
to any length, according to the spirit of the worshippers.
One, often sung, begins thus : —
" Come along, old fader, come along,
For de time it is going by ;
For de angels say dere 'a nothin' to do
But to ring dem charming bells.
0 we 're almost home,
We 're almost home ;
We 're almost home
For to ring dem charming bells."
The next verse begins, — " Come along, old muder,
come along ; " then " Come along, dear sister, come
along ;" " Come along, little chill'en," and so on, each
verse only needing the alteration of one word. When
the meeting was in good singing trim, I sometimes heard
this continued for a considerable time, the first line being
started, and the new word supplied sometimes by one
person, sometimes by another. A stranger generally
had a verse apportioned to him, beginning, — " Come
along, dear stranger, come along ;" or, " Come along,
white brudder, come along," the chorus being taken up
by the whole congregation and sung with great feeling.
Another hymn of the same kind begins —
" Say, young man, do you know the road ?
Do you know the road to glory ?"
— the next verse beginning — " Say, young woman, do
you know the road ?"
Some of their hymns and semi-religious songs date
from the War of Emancipation, which stirred the negro
heart to its depths.
100 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
" Oh. ! go down, Moses,
Go down into Egypt's land ;
Tell King Pharaoh
To let my people go."
This chant, sometimes during the war, took this
form :—
" Oh ! Fader Abraham,
Go down into Dixie's land ;
Tell Jeff. Davis
To let my people go.
Down in de house of bondage
Dey have watch and waited long,
De oppressor's heel is heavy,
De oppressor's arm is strong.
Oh, Fader Abraham," etc.
The only negro song I heard that had a vindictive
turn about it, was one dating from the same time, when
the Confederacy was still strong enough to prevent the
armies of emancipation from reaching the slaves in the
heart of the South. It was said to be first sung by an
old negro prophetess at a jubilee meeting of emancipated
slaves near Washington. The chorus and main part of
the chant is : —
" If de debble do not catch
Jeff. Davis, dat Confederate wratch,
And roast and frigazee dat rebble,
What is de use of any debble ?"
Most of the negro hymns are a strange mixture of
grief and gladness, representing life as full of sorrow,
and death as a joyful release. One strange, wild chant,
which I heard a woman sing while scrubbing her floor,
and which was said to be oftener heard in slave days
than now, began —
" Wish I 'd died when I was a baby,
0 Lord rock a' jubilee.
Wish I 'd died," etc.
PLANTATION HYMNS. 101
Another, which they often sing in church, begins —
" Nobody knows de trouble I see;
Nobody knows but Jesus ;
Nobody knows de trouble I see.
But I 'se goin' to heaven by-an'-bye."
This idea of death being release from a weary life
comes out also, very strangely, in some of their funeral
services. The immediate friends of the dead weep and
wail, and wring their hands, representing the human
side of the event ; but the rest of the crowd are merry,
and sing joyful tunes to indicate the happy change that
has come to the departed.
Most of their hymns are symbolic or narrative — the
negro delighting in anything that presents itself in
pictorial form.
The following is one of the most popular, and has a
very fine effect when sung, as I have heard a congrega
tion of negroes sing it, swaying to and fro, many of
them with hands clasped and tearful eyes turned up to
heaven. The chorus is always sung first : —
" I 've got no time to tarry,
I 've got no time to wait for you,
My home is over Jordan ;
Poor sinners, fare ye well.
Jordan's river I 'm bound to cross,
Bound to cross, bound to cross ;
Jordan's river I 'm bound to cross ;
Poor sinners, fare ye well.
That long white robe I 'm bound to wear,
Bound to wear, bound to wear; etc., etc.
That golden crown I 'm bound to wear,
Bound to wear, bound to wear ; etc., etc.
Them golden harps I 'm bound to play,
Bound to play, bound to play ; etc., etc.
Them golden slippers I 'm bound to wear,
Bound to wear, bound to wear ; etc., etc.
102 BLACK CHKISTIANITY.
Them waters of life I 'm bound to drink,
Bound to drink, bound to drink ; etc., etc.
Them golden streets I 'm bound to walk,
Bound to walk, bound to walk ; etc., etc.
There 's jus' but the one more river to cross,
One more to cross, one more to cross ;
Jus' but the one more river to cross,
And den we 'se home in glory.
So I Ve got no time to tarry,
Got no time to wait with you ;
I Ve got no time to tarry ;
Poor sinner, fare ye well."
Another favourite hymn begins —
" Am I a soldier of the cross,
Of the cross, of the cross ?
Am I a soldier of the cross,
A follower of the Lamb ?
Then I '11 'dure the toil, and I '11 'dure the pain,
'Dure the pain," etc.
Another, to which they generally beat time with their
feet, begins —
" When I was a mourner jus' like you,
I want to go to heaven when I die,
I fast and I prayed till I came thro',
For I want to go to heaven when I die.
0 my soul ! 0 my soul !
1 want to go to heaven when I die."
I append the music of some of these hymns for the
sake of those who may wish to reproduce for themselves
the tunes sung by negro worshippers through so many
years of slavery, and still heard at most of their planta
tion services. It was kindly taken down for me by
Mr. E. S. Francis, of Memphis — some of the best singers
from the Mission School being brought across to sing
to us : —
MUSIC.
103
" NOBODY KNOWS THE TROUBLE I SEE.
Allegro.
fine.
JORDAN'S RIVER."
Moderate.
-9- -s 9 +_ 9 •
* 9 ' 9 _Q_ .
104
BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
AM I A SOLDIER OF THE CROSS ?"
Moderate.
3*^S5Eji^^l3=j3S3
-»— •— j-»-J-« — *— *- -• — 4^ -*---y-l
" WHEN I WAS A MOURNER."
Moderate.
These plantation hymns are less sung now than they
used to be, and will probably before long be numbered
amongst the things of the past. The young negroes
are being educated, and want a higher kind of psalmody ;
and even the older people, in some cases, are drawing
back from hymns that are so much connected in their
minds with slavery.
PEAYERS. 105
The pious negroes delight in prayer ; and the women,
at some of their religious meetings, are as free to lead
as the men. Their prayers are full of fire, and often
exceedingly vivid and impressive. Here was one,
offered by Sister Nancy Brooks at a camp meeting at
Poplar Springs : —
" 0 Father Almighty, 0 sweet Jesus, most gloriful
King, will you be so pleased as to come dis way and put
your eye on dese yere mourners 1 0 sweet Jesus, ain't
you de Daniel God 1 Didn't you deliber de tree chill'un
from de firy furnis 1 Didn't you hear Jonah cry from de
belly ob de whale 1 Oh, if dere be one seeking mourner
here dis afternoon, if dere be one sinking Peter, if dere be
one weeping Mary, if dere be one doubting Thomas, won't
you be so pleased to come and deliber them ? Won't you
mount your gospel horse an' ride roun' de souls of dese
yere mourners, and say, * Go in peace, and sin no more ] '
Won't you be so pleased to come wid de love in one
han' and de fan in de odder han' to fan away doubts ?
Won't you be so pleased to shake dese yere souls over hell,
and not let 'em fall in1? "
They are not always so happy as Sister Nancy in
their Scripture references. A man at Chattanooga used
to pray that Mr. Tade (the missionary) might be rough
shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace.
The negroes are very homely and direct in their
prayers, and the person who leads will sometimes offer
up special petitions for himself and his wife and chil
dren. Strangers too are generally noticed. I some
times heard myself prayed for as " de white gemman in
the corner," or " de white brudder near de door."
The turns of expression are often very quaint and
sometimes comical. One man prayed, — "Lord, when
we 'se done chawin' all de hard bones, and when we 'se
106 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
done swallerin' all de bitter pills, take us home to thy
self." Another prayed God to " sneak away by de Norf
and bress de good folks dere." " 0 Lord," cried another,
who was eager to see some signs of revival amongst his
people, " Stir dese yere sinners up right smart, an' don't
be as merciful as you generally is."
Another, who was leading the services at a crowded
meeting, bewailed in a stentorian voice the sins of the
people, which he enumerated, adding in the same tone,
" Eemember I tells you dese things privately, 0 Lord."
A common form of prayer is, " 0 Lord, we come to
Thee like empty pitchers to a full fountain to be filled."
One old man (Uncle Nat, at Fuller's Plantation, South
Carolina) varied this figure with doubtful advantage by
saying, " We come to Thee like empty pitchers widout
any bottom, to ask if it be Thy will to fill poor me wid
Thy love." In the same prayer he said, " We know
dat thow are a just God, gaderin' where thow has not
strawed." He prayed God to " bress de good brudder
who was so good as to ax me to pray," but whether the
audience thought the " brudder " deserved a blessing for
this, may be considered doubtful. They often become
excited, and indulge in wild extravagancies of expres
sion. One man, in his prayer, cried out about the
" dam-forgotten God," another about " the seven vials
bustin' in Gethsemane."
I could often see that these poor people, though pour
ing forth a torrent of words, were rather looking to God
and trusting to the Spirit of prayer, than seeking to ex
press special wants. The consequence was that very
often their sentences had neither beginning nor end;
and one clergyman said it would take heaven's best
grammarian sometimes to make out what they wanted.
FIGURES BORROWED FROM SLAVERY. 107
Some of their expressions show the presence and influ
ence of Eoman Catholicism : — " Lord, if you is busy to
night, and can't come down yourself," prayed one
woman, " please send Mudder Mary wid her broom to
sweep de chaff from our hearts."
Many of their images are drawn from slavery. The
planter's big house gave them their notion of magnifi
cence ; the planter himself, riding about on his horse,
gave them their ideal of dignity and power. Hence
such expressions as these : — " Mount thy lioss, Lord,
from the top of Zion hill, ride around this congregation,
and touch up some sinners' hearts." One exhorting
brother spoke of death as " cuttin' around on his swift
hoss, up one street and down the other." Another said
in his supplication, — " Didn't you promise, Lord, to
mount yer milk-white steed, and ride round dis yere
Memphis in a particular manner ? " Another prayed
that the Father might " draw aside de curtains of his
window, and cast a modest smile on us." An old man
in Hampton, Virginia, prayed, — " 0 Lord, will ye please
heyst the diamond winders of heaven, roll back yer
lubly curtains, and shake yer table-cloth out, and let
some crumbs fall among us."
Eev. Mr. Thome, of Cleveland, told me of a shrewd
prayer offered by an old plantation preacher in Paris
Island, South Carolina, during the war. The old man
did not forget that he was bound to pray for his enemies,
but did so in these words : — " Bress, we do pray Thee,
our enemies, de wicked Sesech. Gib dem time to 'pent,
we do pray Thee, and den we will excuse Thee if Thou
takes dem all to glory."
The preaching at these plantation meetings, although
improving, is still in a very rude state. It has to be
108 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
remembered, that most of the black pastors and " bred-
dern" who officiate were themselves slaves ; and that
many of them have never till now had a chance of
getting any education. It was touching to see, some
times, old plantation preachers, who had never been
taught to read, using a Bible when they spoke, waving
it in their hands, and constantly appealing to it.
" Breddern and sisters!" cried one of them earnestly,
" I can't read more'n a werse or two of dis bressed
Book, but de gospel it is here — de glad tidings it is
here — oh teach your ehill'en to read dis yar bressed
Book. It 's de good news for we poor coloured folk."
I remember another beginning — " My brederens, you
will find de text of dis mornin' in de Eegulations of
John," and, opening the Bible about the middle, he began
to repeat his text from the Eevelations. Poor old man !
He had never learned to read, and did not know where
the verses were that he could repeat, but he used the
Bible to indicate that they were there. He preached a
sermon full of earnestness and real power, showing that,
in spite of his want of school education, he had been
under the teaching of the Spirit, and had learnt the
true meaning of the gospel. Some of the most vivid
reproductions of Scripture narrative I have ever listened
to were from the lips of such men, who might, under
proper training, have become orators. Their ignorance,
however, leads them into many absurd mistakes, espe
cially when breaking up new ground. I was told of
one who had learned to read a little, but not well, and
who, in the course of exposition, finding the verse,
" My feet are as hinds' feet," read it, " My feet are as
hens' feet." After a moment's reflection he proceeded
to show how beautiful a picture this was of Christian
NEGRO SERMON. 109
faitli ; " for," said lie, " you will observe, my breddern,
dat a hen in de henroost, when it fall asleep, it tightens
it grip so 's not to fall off. And dat 's how true faith,
my breddern, holds on to de rock."
Here is the account of man's creation and Satan's
expulsion from heaven, given by another plantation
preacher at Davis' Bend, on the Mississippi, near Jeffer
son Davis's property : —
" In John de Rebelashun we 's tole, my sisters an'
brethrin', dat de old Satan he set hisself up to be equal
with God. He says he can do anyting God can do. He
says he has just as much power as God, an' he would not
hab God to rule ober him any longer. Den Jesus Christ,
de Son, He comes right out in de front ob de battle with a
great big trumpet in his han'. Den God he told Satan to
make a man. Well, when Satan made de man, God he
tells him to blow into him de breff ob life. So de old
Satan he stoops down and blows in his nostrils, and what
d' ye think came out 1 Why, scorpions, and snakes, and
reptile things ! Den God he told Satan to stick a reed in
de ground, an' what d' ye think came up 1 Why, thorns,
an' thistles, an' briers ! Den He told Jesus Christ, the
Son, to stick His reed in de groun', and what d' ye think
come up ? Why, cabbage, and all good provisions for us
to eat, my breddern ! Den God he blew into de man old
Satan had made, and made him alive, an' put him down on
de earth ; an' Jesus he took his big trumpet, an' he blowed
old Satan rite out ob hebben, and he hung three days an'
three nights on de wall of hebben, an' when he foun' he
had to let go he just cotched his tail roun' de whole third
of hebben, and drug it right down to earth. Den the Son
Jesus, he turns round on de Father, an' He says, ' Father,
lift up de bloomin' curting of hebben, dat I may look down
on de earth an' see what dey is all doin' down dar.' An'
de Father He lifts up the curting, an' de Son he goes to de
do' of hebben, an' looks down on de earth ; an' after awhile
110 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
de Father says to de Son, ' My Son, what does thee see
down dar ? ' An' Jesus, the Son, he turns roun' and says
to de Father, ' Father, I see de old Satan havin' it all his
own way down dar. The people on the earth thay 's all
goin' different roads, but all goin' to one place — all to one
place — right down to de pit."
The excited preacher went on to describe an inter
view that should take place between Jesus and Satan
after the latter had been " chained for a thousand years."
" Jesus, de Son, my breddern, he goes down to de gate
of hell, an' he opens it up and looks in and says, ' Well,
Capt'n Satan, how does thee do this mornin' 1 ' Den Capt'n
Satan he says, * I does well 'nuff.' Den Jesus shut the
gate and left him in. Oh my breddern, and oh my sisters,
see dat you don't be on de wrong side ob de gate dat day."
These and many other features of the religious ser
vices common amongst the emancipated slaves are ludi
crous enough, but they are also sad ; for, if the pastors
are sometimes so ignorant, what must be the benighted
condition of their flocks ! Old Moreau, the slave-scholar
at Wilmington, used to bless God for slavery, which had
brought him to a land where he had heard of Christ.
Many others, who, like him, were blessed with Christian
masters, might use the same words ; but while slavery
brought these four millions of Africans within sound of
the gospel, the sound that many of them were allowed
to hear was very unsatisfactory. I met a man in
Mississippi, who said that he had heard in slave-days
of one Jesus, but thought, from the way his fellow-
slaves spoke of Him, that He was a great planter in
some other State, who was to buy all the coloured
people one day and set them free. An old black woman
in Southern Tennessee, now a member of one of the
churches there, told me that where she was raised the
A MINISTER'S SPELLING-CLASS. Ill
slaves were taught that they had no souls, and had to
die and go to nothing like the beasts. Shall we wonder
if multitudes of the negroes, pastors and people, emerging
from such darkness, are very ignorant, and that their
services often seem to the stranger a jumble of Pro
testantism, Romanism, and Fetichism ?
There are, however, two features, about their present
condition, full of good augury for the future. The first
is that they are generally conscious of their ignorance,
and the second is that they are anxious to remove it.
In some of the mission- schools I visited, I found black
ministers sitting amongst the other scholars learning
to read the Bible. I remember, at one home, an aged
plantation preacher, who every day after the chil
dren were gone came to learn the same simple lessons
as they had been at ; and the earnestness with which,
gazing at the chart through his spectacles, he repeated
after the teachers " a-b, ab ; e-b, eb ; i-b, ib," and so qn.
One of the missionary teachers in Georgia had a
spelling-class exclusively for black ministers, who met
to get their lessons in the church where one of them
officiated every Sunday as pastor.
" Fancy," she says in her report, " a ministers' spelling-
class. Imagine my feelings as I called upon the Rev. Mr.
— to spell w-o-r-l-d, and the Rev. Mr. to spell
b-e-a-s-t-s ; a difficult word, by the way, both to spell and
pronounce, and over which every one tripped and fell !
When every one had read and spelt, it was proposed by the
Rev. Mr. that they should read the first chapter of
John's Revelation. I readily consented, advising that one
should read in a distinct, audible voice, stopping at the end
of each verse for the rest to criticise. My advice was fol
lowed, and proved very acceptable in its results. The
pastor of the church ascended the steps of the pulpit,
1 1 2 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
opened the ponderous Bible, put on his ' specs/ and pro
ceeded slowly, but firmly, to read, pausing, according to
agreement, for the criticisms of his brethren, and — alas for
the dignity of man — of his sister, too. Yes, there was no
way to escape the responsibility j for once it was clearly my
duty to correct the preacher, standing, too, in his own
pulpit. There was no hesitation on the part of his
brethren! criticisms showered down freely, and I was
appealed to as umpire. You said ' sanctified ' instead of
1 signified ' cried one, alluding to the first verse ; you said
' the things' instead of ' those things,' cried another, refer
ring to the third. The worthy pastor stood rebuked, and
submitted himself with a lowliness well worthy of imita
tion. We wound up our exercises by repeating, simultane
ously, all the hard words in the chapter — Alpha, Omega,
Ephesus, Smyrna, Thyatira, etc.
" This recitation was particularly acceptable to all the
students, for one of the primer licentiates had previously
whispered to Miss B., ' Miss, won't you please give me a
Bible lesson, for they call on me to preach sometimes, and
I 'm mighty tight up on the words ! ' '
I remember, near Savannah, calling at the house of
an old black preacher. He was out, but his wife
showed us his Bible, and said that now he was able to
read it a little, he was studying it day and night.
This- desire for Bible knowledge I found wonderfully
widespread amongst the people, and was touched to
find in how many cases this desire had possessed them
even in the dark days when there seemed but small
hope of its gratification. One man in North Carolina,
whose boys I saw at the Beaufort Mission School, had
carried a Bible with him when he escaped from slavery
during the war, and though he could not read it, kept
it by him until, freedom coining, and schools being
opened, he was taught to read it by his own children.
DESIRE FOR BIBLE KNOWLEDGE. 113
Another case was that of a poor black woman — a
nurse in a planter's family — who had become a Chris
tian, and was never weary hearing the children reading
the Bible, and telling her about Jesus. To her great
delight, the little girl one day showed her the name of
Jesus, and made her spell letter after letter, and look
at the word until she knew it, and was able to point it
out when she saw it. After that it was a favourite
employment with her to take the Bible and search for
the name that was so precious to her. She had no
idea in what parts of the Bible it was to be found ; and
so, opening it anywhere, she would travel with her finger
along line after line, and page after page, through the
wilderness of words that were all unintelligible signs
to her, till she found the name of which she was in
quest.
" And, oh ! " she said, in narrating her experience,
" how dat name started up like a light in de dark, and
I thought, ' Dere 's de name of my Jesus ! ' '
" It was de on'y one word I knew," she added, " but
oh ! how dat one word made me hunger for more ! "
This love for the Bible, and eagerness to acquire a
knowledge of it, was one of the first things noticed
amongst the black men who, during the war, fled from
slavery to enlist and fight in the armies of emancipa
tion. One of them at City Point, who had got a spell
ing-book, and was very eager to learn, was taught his
letters by one of his officers. Two days later, the black
•soldier returned, able to spell half-way through the
book, and asked eagerly if he was fit now to begin the
Testament. " For if I could on'y read God's own write,"
he said, " I tink it would be wurf more 'n everyting."
Let me mention another case : After the first day's
VOL. II. H
114 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
fight at the Wilderness, two black soldiers of the 31st
Coloured Regiment, William and Thomas Freeman,
found some black women nearly starving in a house
deserted by the owners, and at once gave them all they
had in their haversacks. One of the women, to express
her gratitude, presented them with a Bible she had got
from her mistress — a large, strongly bound Bible, weigh
ing about nine pounds. The soldiers received it with
delight, and William Freeman put it into his knapsack
in place of his blanket. He had learned to read a little,
and that night, by the watch-fires, he read aloud out of
his big Bible to several of his fellow-soldiers. Through
all the marchings and fightings from the Wilderness to
Petersburg, the big Bible went with him. On the 30th
of July his regiment was in the Crater fight, and
William went in with the Bible on his back. In the
first charge he was shot in the breast and fell. Almost
immediately after, his brother Thomas, pressing on with
his comrades, was also struck. As the litter-bearers
were hurrying him to the rear, he caught sight of his
dead brother, and begged the men to stop and give him
his brother's knapsack. They took the knapsack from
the dead man's shoulders with the Bible in it, put it on
the stretcher, and hurried on. When the missionary
made the round of the hospital wards, the dying soldier
got him to take out the big Bible, and read the twenty-
third Psalm, which his brother had read to him from it
the night before. He died that night, it is -said, with
the Bible in his arms. The book was taken care of, and
is now preserved in Amherst College.
This feeling is abroad amongst the freed people just
now. In those night-schools, all through the South, I
found that the great and crowning desire of the old
UNCLE JOS. 115
people was to learn to read the Bible. Said one old
woman at Montgomery, who had begun her schooling
at seventy years of age, and was spelling out her Bible,
" It 's so sweet to pick out dis verse and dat verse, and
tink ' dem 's de 'dentical words my Saviour spoke.' "
Another woman, who found great difficulty in master
ing the primer, begged to be taught the words, " Our
Father which art in Heaven," out of the Bible, to begin
with.
" Tears to me if I could once do dat," she said, " all
the rest would come easy."
Another little picture comes back to me. An old
frizzly-haired negro in the night-school, known as
" Uncle Jos," was spelling out his Bible lesson, and
came upon a verse which he had heard thirty years
before in slavery, and which had been the means of
his conversion. He now saw it with his own eyes for
the first time. It was the verse, "God so loved the
world," etc.- The old man spelt it out with indescrib
able eagerness, word by word, and when he had got
through it, putting his finger upon the verse as if to
hold it there, he looked up to heaven, with big tears of
gratitude beginning to trickle down his cheeks. He
was what would be called an old " woolly-headed
nigger," but his look at that moment was the look
which a painter might have taken for the face of old
Simeon when he said, — " Now lettest thou thy servant
depart in peace : for mine eyes have seen Thy salva
tion."
We found the same love for the Bible amongst
many of the negroes whom we visited in their homes.
Nothing seemed to delight the old people more than to
hear it read. Sometimes we found them being taught
116 BLACK CHRISTIANITY.
to read it for themselves by the children. The mis
sionary of a newly-opened school in a Texas plantation,
where she had only two Bibles, said that every day,
as soon as lessons were over, there was a little crowd
of scholars up with messages from parents and grand
parents at home, begging the loan of one of the Bibles
for the night, that they might have it read to them by
their children. What a soil is this in which to sow
good seed !
All this is beginning, along with general education,
to elevate the religious condition and worship of the
emancipated people. Old and young are being in
structed ; the young are getting such a training as
no appreciable portion of the coloured race ever got
before. An educated ministry is gradually springing
up amongst themselves ; and it is anticipated that
when the religious enthusiasm, which forms so striking
a feature of their character, and which has been ex
hausting itself so much in mere noise and frenzy, is
directed into practical channels, it will develop (what
is much needed) a higher morality amongst the negroes
themselves, and perhaps impart some of its own warmth
to the whole Christianity of the country.
There are influences at work, however, which may do
a good deal to modify the future relation of the coloured
people to Christianity. Chief amongst these is the in
fluence of Popery. In 1867 a Plenary Council of the
Catholic Church was held in Baltimore, when the posi
tion of -the emancipated negroes was discussed, and
measures inaugurated for securing them to the Church
of Eome. The following year, nearly a hundred priests
landed at New Orleans, and it was understood that the
Society for Propagating the Faith had appropriated the
HOME IN THE FIELD. 1 1 7
sum of $600,000 (£120,000) for carrying on mission-
work among the blacks. A priest at New Orleans told
me that they had over 50,000 black children in their
schools ; and it is said that upwards of a hundred black
students are now being educated at Eome in prepara
tion for this new and promising field. The imposing
ceremonials of the Romish Church, its system of Ab
solution, its worship of the Virgin, and its repudiation
of distinctions of race and colour, are all likely to make
it popular amongst the negroes. There is need of
every civilizing and Christian agency, but this prospect
is regarded with alarm by many in America, who con
cern themselves very little with religious questions.
For the blacks are now voters, and if the Church of
Eome brings them under her sway, it is feared that the
negro and the Irish votes will enable her to exercise an
undesirable influence over the destinies of America.
1 1 8 ADMIRAL SEMMES.
VIII.
ADMIRAL SEMMES.
MY first sight of the once famed commander of the
Alabama was at Mobile. I had notes to him from
various Southern officers, and being in quest of in
formation which he was the most likely to have, I
deemed it of importance to find him out. This turned
out to be no easy matter ; and as the case illustrates
two very curious features of American, and specially
(at present) of Southern life — namely, the unsettled
condition of the people both as regards home and
occupation — I may tell the whole story.
It was reported at the North that Semmes on his
return to the States had become a professor of moral
philosophy, but had failed. It was conjectured that
the Alabama had furnished an indifferent training for
a moral philosophy chair. At anyrate he had, accord
ing to report, given it up, and gone upon the staff of a
Mobile newspaper.
On reaching Mobile I asked the clerk at the hotel if
he knew where Captain Semmes lived.
No ; he didn't.
" What paper does he edit ? "
" No paper," said the clerk. " He did edit a paper
once, but he gave that up."
" What is he doing now ? "
A FRUITLESS SEARCH. 1 1 9
" God knows/' said the clerk.
" I reckon they '11 be able to tell you at the Tribune
office," said a tall gentleman who was lounging against
the rails.
Away to the Tribune office I accordingly went ; glad,
when I reached it, to escape from the glare of the
Southern sun, which, though it was still but the month
of March, was flaming in the sky with furnace-heat.
I made my way up to the editor's room, but was taken
aback by the following intimation on the door : —
POSITIVELY NO ADMITTANCE
until after two o'clock,
Except to whip the editors.
A conflict with a fighting editor struck me as an
unhappy and precarious way of advancing my in
quiries; however, I made bold to knock. The door
was opened by a pale young gentleman with a quid of
tobacco in his cheek, who told me that the editor was
not in. I said that was a pity, as it prevented the
possibility of whipping him. At this mild joke the
pale young gentleman condescended (after ejecting a
mouthful of tobacco juice) to smile. He said, in
answer to my inquiries, that he could not tell where
Semmes was to be found ; thought he lived out in the
country somewhere ; but was certain they could inform
me definitely in the office below.
No more knowledge on the subject seemed to exist
in the office below than I had found in the office above.
It occurred, however, to one gentleman that Captain
Semmes was now a lawyer, and that his address might
be found in the Directory. He obligingly went for the
Directory — the Americans are generally very polite —
120 ADMIRAL SEMLMES.
and turned up the name. There it was, sure enough,
" Semmes, R., attorney, 4 Dauphin Street."
" Ah, 4 Dauphin Street," said the gentleman, sending
a squirt under the counter, " he ain't there now ; that 's
certain."
Here let me remark that the principal use of some
directories in America seems to be to let you know
where not to go.
" But here is his son," said the gentleman, who was
still looking at the book, " Semmes, jr., at Caleb Price's,
corner of Water and Center Streets."
I thanked my polite friend, thought my search was
to be crowned with success at last, and set off through
the oppressive heat to Center Street. I reached Price's,
which turned out to be a hardware store, went in, and
asked for Mr. Semmes.
" Ah, he ain't here now," said the man behind the
counter." " He was here, but he is gone to Memphis."
"Is his father, the Admiral, at Mobile?"
" I reckon he is. Lives in the country somewhere."
" Do you know where I could find the exact address ?"
"No, sir."
I began to think there was to be as much difficulty
in capturing the Admiral as there had been in captur
ing his ship. This last straw broke the camel's back.
I was already like to drop from sheer fatigue, and the
thought of setting out on further search with no clue to
success was too trying to be thought of. Half melted
with the heat — Southern heat is something fearful — I
got back to Battle House, and refreshed myself with
such a dinner and such delicious iced water as can only
be got in an American hotel.
Fortunately further search became unnecessary. In
• APPEARANCE. 121
tlie afternoon I met Major E — , a personal friend of
Captain Semmes, who told me that the Admiral was
now a public lecturer ; that he was to deliver a lecture
in Mobile that very night ; and that he would have
pleasure in going with me and introducing me. My
only fear was that the Admiral might change his
profession again before the hour of meeting and not
make his appearance.
According to arrangement the Major accompanied
me to the theatre, and took me round to the green
room, that we might meet the Admiral before the
lecture began.
We had waited but a few minutes when Semmes
appeared. He is a small, dark-looking man, thin, wiry,
weather-beaten in face, with a fierce-looking moustache
twisted outwards at the ends, and a dangerous look
about his black restless eyes. One can see at a glance
that Semmes is no ordinary man.
He was dressed for the occasion in what a Scotch
man would call his Sunday clothes — a sleek and most
unpiratical suit of black, including dress coat, large
white shirt-cuffs, and black tie hanging in front of his
turn-down collar. He looked keenly and warily into
my eyes as we shook hands, took a seat and entered
into conversation, but was evidently a little troubled
about his lecture, and would every now and then twist
his moustache with an abstracted air. Two or three
gentlemen came in, each of whom he pressed to take
the chair at the meeting. One of them said his friend
Mr. would be a much more suitable man. Mr.
said he could not think of it, and suggested that it
would be far better for the Admiral to have no chair
man at all — that it was quite the custom now for
122 ADMIRAL SEMMES.
lecturers just to go in and begin without ceremony. It
was true, and yet I could not but think that I detected
an unexpressed reluctance to be associated with the
Admiral in so public a manner when he was going to
lecture on the very subject about which the party now
in power felt so sore. Perhaps I was mistaken, but
even if I was right, this feeling, in the present painful
circumstances of the South, is not to be wondered at.
The few minutes' conversation I now had with the
Admiral related to the Alabama. When the difficulty
she had given rise to between Great Britain and America
was mentioned, Semmes said, — " Great Britain had
nothing to do with the Alabama in her capacity as a
Confederate war-ship. The Yankee papers say she was
equipped in a British port. It was not so. She left
Liverpool like any merchant ship, without a gun or a
single armed man aboard of her. I reached Liverpool
three days after, and found that she had gone to the
Azores. I followed her ; and there a transport met us
with guns. If any nation is responsible, it is Portugal.
But Portugal is not responsible either ; for she had no
force there to prevent me. I was three days at the
Azores, and then steamed out upon the high seas, and
put the Alabama formally upon commission."
He also said, — " Not one penny of the cost was con
tributed in England. She was paid for out of the
treasury of the Confederate States ; and she was used
for Confederate purposes, just as the rifles and ammuni
tion bought by the North in England were used for
Federal purposes."
He said that though the North laid so much stress on
the Alabama having been built in England, he could
prove to me, from documents in his possession, that the
SEMMES ON THE PLATFORM. 123
Federal Government were at one time negotiating with
Laird of Liverpool to build war-ships for them. A copy
of these proofs he afterwards forwarded.
Speaking of life on board the Alabama, he said he
had no chaplain on board, but Sunday was observed as
a day of rest.
Describing the routine of capture, he said, — " I had a
man at the masthead in all weathers. ' Sail ho ! ' from
him announced a ship in sight. The officer on deck
would then cry up to him through the trumpet, c Where
away ? ' What does she look like ? ' and so forth. If
she turned out to be a merchantman we hoisted the flag
most likely to lull any suspicions, stood for her, and
sent off a boat. As soon as our officer stepped aboard of
her we hoisted the Confederate flag, and the officer
pointed to it as the one under which the capture was
made. When she was an American ship we took off
her crew and burnt her. We had no resource ; there
was no port open to take her to. If she had English
property aboard I took a ransom bond and let her go/'
He had still some of these bonds " stowed away," he
said, " where even Ben Butler in search of spoons could
not find them." I asked him for one as a curiosity,
seeing they were waste paper now ; but the Admiral
did not know what in the course of Providence might
turn up yet, and thought it best to keep them.
It was now time for the lecture, so the Major and I
went into the theatre and took our seats. There was a
somewhat thin audience; but most of the Southern
people of the lecture- attending kind had been almost
beggared since the war, and the charge that night was,
I think, a dollar.
It was some time after the hour before Seinmes made
124 ADMIRAL SEMMES.
his appearance. At last lie came stepping in quietly
upon the stage alone, his hat in one hand, his manu
script in the other. The audience, as is customary at
such meetings in America, received him in silence.
The Admiral, with his dark, weather-beaten face and
corsair look, seemed to find himself out of his element
standing in black clothes behind a reading-desk. His
eyes, with a cast of sadness in them, glanced restlessly
to different parts of the building ; and once or twice he
smacked his lips as if his mouth were too dry. His
voice was somewhat weak, but he spoke distinctly, and
gave us an exceedingly graphic and interesting lecture,
with abundant evidence in it of thought, culture, and
literary power. There was even a touch here and there
of the moral philosopher. In describing his war upon
the whale ships, he was led, by an unlooked-for associa
tion of ideas, into a dissertation on the natural history
of the whale, and the beautiful providential arrange
ments by which God provides that animal with food, and
prepares it for the use of man. " The same beneficent
hand that feeds the raven/' said the Admiral piously,
" feeds the whale, carrying to it by the Gulf Stream the
sea-nettles which it cannot go for itself." I thought if
any New York shipowner was present he would wonder
whether it was the same beneficent hand that had
carried the Admiral in the same direction. There were
very few peculiarities in his speech, except his Cockney-
like addition of " r " in " Alabamar " and " idear ; " also
his American pronunciation of " calmly," as if it were
spelt " kemly," and of " u " as if it were " oo "—"We
threw a shot astern which indooced the merchantman
to heave-to."
His lecture was an attempt to vindicate the career
HIS LECTURE. 125
of the Alabama on historical grounds. He compared
the Confederate struggle against the North to the
struggle of the American colonies against Britain, and
said that although the one had succeeded and the other
failed, this made no difference in the prior rights of
belligerency. If George Washington's commission was
valid, so was Eobert E. Lee's ; if Lee's was valid, so was
the Alabama's.
He then drew a parallel between himself and Paul
Jones, the American commander who figured so pro
minently in the American War of Independence. He
said that Jones had destroyed many of his prizes, and
with far less excuse than he had, for Jones had always
open ports into which he could have carried his prizes
for adjudication, whereas the Alabama was a home
less wanderer, with all the ports of the world shut
against her. He had, therefore, done from necessity
what Jones had so often done from choice. " And yet,"
he said, " the Yankees, who call Jones a hero, call me a
pirate ! It is the old story about the bull goring the
wrong ox. What Jones destroyed was British com
merce ; what I destroyed was Yankee commerce. That
makes the difference."
At the close of his lecture he described with great
eloquence of language the beautiful Sunday morning
when he sailed his ship from the Azores out upon
the high seas ; and when for the first time the Con
federate flag waved from her peak, and the name was
given her that was soon to be written in lurid fires
upon the ocean before the eyes of an astonished world.
" I was at her baptism," he said ; " I was also at her
burial. Two years had passed. Again it was Sun
day — the 19th of June— this was her funeral morning."
126 ADMIRAL SEMMES.
He described his fight with the Kearsarge and its
result. "Many," he said, with a touch of pathos,
"many went down with the ship that day who had
stood with bared heads at her christening on that Sun
day morning two years before."
And now for a moment the Admiral's dark eyes
kindled with fire, as he added, —
" No enemy's foot ever polluted her deck. No
splinter of her hull, no shred of her flag remains as a
trophy in the hands of the enemy ! "
This passage, in newspaper phrase, " brought down
the house."
I had many thoughts that night as I sat listening to
Semmes. Had the South achieved her independence,
this man, who (all honour to him) is now struggling by
means of these lectures to earn an honest livelihood,
would to-day have been one of the most important and
prominent men in the Dis-United States of America.
Success would have thrown out of sight the unpleasant
facts in the history of his ship, and Admiral Semmes
would have been handed down to the admiration of
posterity as the great captain who, with one ship, and
in a few months, swept the American flag from the
ocean. But the South fell, and Semmes (not Admiral
at all1) is called a pirate. Here is some food for thought,
if not some ground for charity.
Let rne add a word here about the Alabama diffi
culty. I found the Americans all over the North feel
ing very keenly about it. Their feeling was not so
1 I was told at Washington that say that the President knew no one
when Semmes called on President in God's creation owning such a
Johnson about his pardon, he sent name and title. The Admiral took
in his card as "Admiral Semmes." the hint, and sent in his card as
The usher returned after a while to " Mr. Semmes."
THE ALABAMA QUESTION. 127
much against Semmes and the South as it was against
us. It was no doubt provoking that two or three
Confederate cruisers should have destroyed so much
valuable commerce and almost driven their flag from
the ocean. But, then, had the circumstances of North
and South been reversed, no doubt the North would
itself, if a chance occurred, have done with Southern
commerce precisely what Semmes and Maffitt did with
hers. Their strongest feeling on the subject was in
reference to this country. And let me say, that I think
they were feeling about the matter very much as we
should feel if under similar circumstances they had
done by us as we during the early part of the war did
by them. Let us suppose that Ireland rose in open
rebellion, and that the Americans showed their sym
pathy with the Irish as we showed ours with the Con
federates. They would, of course, have a perfect right
(just as we had) to give their sympathies where they
pleased : but how should we like it ? Their case is even
stronger, for this reason, that the people in this country
seem to anticipate that America would sympathize with
Ireland, while the people of the Free States in America
anticipated confidently that we (in a case where slavery
was involved) would sympathize heartily with them.
The revulsion of feeling was necessarily greater. France,
therefore, would be a better parallel ; where in a war
between Free Government and Personal Power we
should confidently expect American sympathy.
Suppose then that we were at war with France, and
that instead of the Americans sympathizing with us
they should crow over every British defeat, and in
spite of our entreaties should disregard the questions
involved, — how would this be likely to affect our feel-
128 ADMIRAL SEMMES.
ings towards the Americans ? Suppose, further, that
American shipbuilders should build fast ships intended
to be let loose on British commerce ; that one of these,
followed by others, should begin upon the high seas
the wholesale destruction of British commerce, light
ing up the ocean with the flames of our burning ships ;
and suppose, finally, that the Americans (those at any
rate whose voices were heard in this country) should
cheer on these destroyers of our peaceful merchant
men — should gleefully record their depredations and
fete their officers at American ports — how should we
like all this ? and how should we feel if the Americans,
when we expressed our indignation, should content
themselves with saying, " What have you against us ?
Our Government is neutral. It didn't let these ships
go. In fact, it meant to stop them as soon as it be
came perfectly clear that they were meant to prey on
your commerce, but somehow before the evidence was
quite complete the ships got away."
Would that pacify us, when we saw that while these
ships were burning millions' worth of our merchandise
and driving the British flag from the seas, the Americans
(within the limits allowed by legal neutrality) were
cheering on these cruisers, and laughing at our painful
attempts to catch them ? I think, on the contrary,
that we should have felt towards them very much as
they have felt towards us.
This is the canker that underlies the legal question,
and makes it so difficult to solve. In itself, of course,
the legal"question is important— far more important to
us (as well as to America) than the worth of all the
shipping destroyed or all the damages that may be
claimed. But American exasperation was not caused
THE REAL DIFFICULTY. 129
by violation of law on our part, nor will it be allayed
by pecuniary compensation. However the legal ques
tion is settled, the restoration of harmony of feeling
between the two nations can only be brought about, so
far as we are concerned, (1.) by our realizing that the
American feeling towards us is just what ours would
have been in like circumstances towards them ; and (2.)
by our feeling and acting now towards the American
Government and people as we, under the supposed
change of circumstances, would wish them to feel and
act towards us. When the Christian law is fulfilled,
the claims of international law will, I humbly believe,
be easily and cheerfully satisfied on both sides.
VOL. II.
130 NEW ORLEANS.
IX.
NEW ORLEANS.
FROM Mobile I went on to New Orleans by water.
It was a bright warm afternoon when we left the city
behind us, and steamed out into what I should have
taken for a vast calm sea, had it not been for the posts
that stuck out of the water at intervals along our
course for miles, indicating the narrow channel by
which steamers have to find their way out through the
shallows into the Gulf of Mexico. The route is west
ward by Chandeleur Bay ; and early next morning the
steamer reaches Port au Place, the landing-point for
New Orleans. Let me, in passing, give a word of
advice to any reader who may have to take that sail.
When you are asked before you retire at night if you
wish to be awakened in the morning for the first train,
say " Yes." The train starts at an inhuman hour-
five o'clock, or earlier — the second not till seven. But
if, beguiled by the hope of two additional hours of
sleep, you say that you will wait for the second train,
the following experience awaits you. At a quarter
past four in the morning, when you are enjoying the
best part of your night's repose, you are awakened by
a terrific knocking at your cabin-door, within three
feet of your head, followed by a voice inquiring if
you are going by the first train. As soon as you have
PORT AU PLACE. 131
collected your scattered senses, you reply, probably with
some irritation, " No !" and, turning over, you try to
compose yourself to sleep again. In this you are not
assisted by the loud knocking at the next cabin- door,
and the next, though if you are a sufficiently wicked
person, it may give you a little malignant gratification
to think that others are getting their night's rest broken
as well as yourself ; also to hear that the man in the
next cabin but one has assailed the knocking demon
with a volley of invectives, which you feel are richly
deserved, but which are expressed with less choiceness
of language than you would wish to employ yourself.
As soon as there is silence you begin to woo back your
sleep, and have just relapsed into unconsciousness, when
you are nearly startled out of your berth by another
loud knock at your door, and a different voice inform
ing you, in an imperative tone, that the train is just
going. Your first impulse is to spring up, open the
door, snatch a boot or anything that comes to hand, and
hurl it at the intruder's head ; but, by a powerful effort,
you control yourself, and reply, with ferocious indigna
tion, that you don't go with that train. You are now,
in spite of all your efforts to the contrary, kept awake
for the better part of half-an-hour, by the trampling of
feet and voices of people on the pier, all of which are
by-and-by superseded by a hideous noise in the outer
air, such as might proceed from a gigantic donkey
attempting to bray with a bad cold in its throat, which
your previous experience enables you to refer to the
railway engine. When this doleful overture is over,
and you hear the train go off, you turn in your berth
with a sense of relief, and try once more to sleep ; but
no sooner have you begun to doze, than once more a
132 NEW ORLEANS.
furious knock awakes you, this time for the second
train. All is over now, and you get up and dress, to
discover, with renewed indignation, that you have been
aroused three-quarters of an hour too soon, and that
there is nothing for you on the programme but to stand
shivering on the deck or the long wooden pier, doubtful
whether the pale green scene around you, gleaming
through the poisonous mist, is water or land ; and re
flecting that, if you had only taken the first train, you
might already have been at your hotel in the city, and
preparing to enjoy a comfortable breakfast.
The first day I spent in New Orleans was Sunday.
All morning the streets were alive with people swarm
ing to and from the market-places, and pouring out
from the Catholic places of worship. During the earlier
part of the day vast numbers of shops were open, and
people sitting reading the morning papers as on other
days. The French, rather than the British or American,
idea of Sunday seems to prevail. There is a magnificent
Catholic cathedral in the city, and Eomanism is strong,
owing partly to so large a portion of the population
being of French and Spanish extraction. Some of the
districts (faubourgs, as they are still called,) are almost
entirely French ; and French taste and Spanish magni
ficence are discernible in the houses, the equipages, and
the dress and manners of the people. The New Orleans
ladies are very beautiful, their loveliness being of the
pale and delicate caste known in Italy as morbidezza,
and they dress with great elegance and taste. A New
Orleans belle reclining at ease and fanning herself, is
loveliness and grace personified. Many of the younger
men have a fierce, dangerous look about them, different
DRAINAGE. 133
from anything I observed as a common feature in other
American cities.
The war had told heavily on the trade of New Orleans,
and some of the old merchants seemed to think that her
glory had departed. Nothing, however, can permanently
affect the prosperity of a city enjoying such splendid
advantages of location. Those vast rivers of the north
and north-west — the Upper Mississippi, the Ohio, and
the Missouri — draining one of the richest regions in the
world, pour their treasures into the Lower Mississippi,
which rolls them down to New Orleans. More than
20,000 miles of navigable inland waters, finding their
gateway to the ocean through that city, can scarcely
fail to preserve for it a foremost place amongst the com
mercial centres and seaports of the world. Its greatest
enemy is yellow fever ; but efforts have been made of
late years, by sanitary improvements, to rid the city of
this annual visitation, and these have been attended
with considerable success. As immigration increases,
and the marshy country around becomes drained and
cultivated, it is hoped that " Yellow Jack" may have a
final quietus given him.
The vast area covered by the city is almost as flat
as a billiard-board. It lies at a lower level than the
Mississippi, which flows round part of it behind the
protecting embankments called levees. The drainage
of the city is, therefore, not into the river, but away
from it, to the lake ; and advantage is taken of the
higher level of the river to bring streams of water from
it into the streets to flow in little runnels at the sides,
helping to keep the streets clean and wholesome.
The city in every direction is intersected with street
railways, such as are almost universal in American
132 NEW ORLEANS.
furious knock awakes you, this time for the second
train. All is over now, and you get up and dress, to
discover, with renewed indignation, that you have been
aroused three-quarters of an hour too soon, and that
there is nothing for you on the programme but to stand
shivering on the deck or the long wooden pier, doubtful
whether the pale green scene around you, gleaming
through the poisonous mist, is water or land ; and re
flecting that, if you had only taken the first train, you
might already have been at your hotel in the city, and
preparing to enjoy a comfortable breakfast.
The first day I spent in New Orleans was Sunday.
All morning the streets were alive with people swarm
ing to and from the market-places, and pouring out
from the Catholic places of worship. During the earlier
part of the day vast numbers of shops were open, and
people sitting reading the morning papers as on other
days. The French, rather than the British or American,
idea of Sunday seems to prevail. There is a magnificent
Catholic cathedral in the city, and Eomanism is strong,
owing partly to so large a portion of the population
being of French and Spanish extraction. Some of the
districts (faubourgs, as they are still called,) are almost
entirely French ; and French taste and Spanish magni
ficence are discernible in the houses, the equipages, and
the dress and manners of the people. The New Orleans
ladies are very beautiful, their loveliness being of the
pale and delicate caste known in Italy as morbidezza,
and they dress with great elegance and taste. A New
Orleans belle reclining at ease and fanning herself, is
loveliness and grace personified. Many of the younger
men have a fierce, dangerous look about them,, different
DRAINAGE. 133
from anything I observed as a common feature in other
American cities.
The war had told heavily on the trade of New Orleans,
and some of the old merchants seemed to think that her
glory had departed. Nothing, however, can permanently
affect the prosperity of a city enjoying such splendid
advantages of location. Those vast rivers of the north
and north-west — the Upper Mississippi, the Ohio, and
the Missouri — draining one of the richest regions in the
world, pour their treasures into the Lower Mississippi,
which rolls them down to New Orleans. More than
20,000 miles of navigable inland waters, finding their
gateway to the ocean through that city, can scarcely
fail to preserve for it a foremost place amongst the com
mercial centres and seaports of the world. Its greatest
enemy is yellow fever ; but efforts have been made of
late years, by sanitary improvements, to rid the city of
this annual visitation, and these have been attended
with considerable success. As immigration increases,
and the marshy country around becomes drained and
cultivated, it is hoped that " Yellow Jack" may have a
final quietus given him.
The vast area covered by the city is almost as flat
as a billiard-board. It lies at a lower level than the
Mississippi, which flows round part of it behind the
protecting embankments called levees. The drainage
of the city is, therefore, not into the river, but away
from it, to the lake ; and advantage is taken of the
higher level of the river to bring streams of water from
it into the streets to flow in little runnels at the sides,
helping to keep the streets clean and wholesome.
The city in every direction is intersected with street
railways, such as are almost universal in American
136 NEW ORLEANS.
which fifty or a hundred people sit down to every meal
daily all the year round. The presence of so many
resident boarders secures to> the traveller far better
accommodation than he could have in this country at
the same price, or indeed at any price. The cost of
living at an American hotel ranges from $2 to $6
a day— the most common charge being S3 — that is,
nominally, 12s., but really, at present, only about 9s., by
reason of the value of gold. For this you have not only
a comfortable bedroom, public parlours, smoking-rooms,
reading-rooms, and service, but you have three or four
sumptuous meals every day, which, if ordered privately,
on the British system, would cost from 4s. to £1 a piece.
To show that I am not speaking at random, let me
give the ordinary bill of fare for dinner in the hotel
where I stayed at New Orleans, and where, I think,
the charge was three and a half dollars a day. And
let the reader remember that the guests are free not
only to choose a dish out of every course, but to order
as many dishes in each course as he pleases — could, in
fact, if he had a stomach like Apicius, partake of them
all, and pay nothing extra.
DINNER
Soups. — Ox- joint ; vermicelli.
Fish. — Baked red snapper, with brown oyster sauce.
Boiled. — Leg of mutton, with caper sauce ; sugar-cured ham j corned
beef.
Cold Dishes. — Corned beef ; roast beef ; mutton ; ham.
Roast. — Beef ; loin of lamb ; pig. with apple sauce ; loin of pork ;
loin of mutton ; loin of veal.
Entries. — Beef a la mode ; calves head, with brain sauce ; cro
quettes of rice, with lemon sauce ; calves feet a la Pascaline ;
veal and ham scolloped with mushrooms ; maccaroni, with
Italian sauce ; oyster patties.
Vegetables. — Irish potatoes, mashed or boiled; hominy; rice; beans ;
spinach ; cabbage.
DO AT ROME AS THE ROMANS DO. • 137
Relishes. — Worcestershire sauce ; mushroom catsup ; walnut and
tomato catsup ; pickled beets ; mixed pickles ; pickled cucum
bers ; Cumberland sauce ; lettuce ; cheese ; Harvey sauce ;
beefsteak sauce ; John Bull sauce.
Pastry and Pudding. — Gooseberry pie ; bread pudding, with brandy
sauce ; Pethivier pie ; Genoese perlies : biscuits Milanais ;
annisette jelly ; English cream.
Dessert. — Raisins ; filberts j almonds ; pecans ; oranges.
COFFEE.
This was a specimen of every day's dinner, and din
ner was but one of three meals, all included in the
moderate daily charge named. Breakfast went on
from seven in the morning to ten ; dinner from two to
half-past four ; supper from seven to twelve. •
To get the full advantage of these hotels you must,
of course, conform to their arrangements. Breakfast at
the public table when breakfast is going on ; dine when
dinner is going on ; sup when supper is going on. If
you want to read, write, or smoke, go to the public
rooms assigned for the purpose, for if you don't, you
must make up your mind to pay for your eccentricities.
If you are not satisfied with the public parlour and
want one for yourself, you will probably be charged ten
to twenty shillings a day extra. If you dislike sitting
at the public table, and order your meals to your own
room, you will be charged for it. And if you miss a
meal, or half-a-dozen meals, it makes no difference in
your expense. The charge is so much a day, and you
pay that amount whether you avail yourself of the
accommodation provided for it or not.
It was still the month of March when I visited New
Orleans, but the weather had become intensely hot.
Pears were ripe, and the second crop of strawberries
was in the market. The first crop had come on at
Christmas-time in consequence of an unusually mild
138 NEW ORLEANS.
winter. Mosquitoes too, which have no moral right to
appear before the month of May, were already begin
ning to sound their piobrach in the bedroom. I got
no sleep the first night with these little winged tormen
tors. The second night the mosquito-curtains were
up. Going about the blazing city during the day, I
often thought I should have dropped. My hat felt like
a stove, and I was consumed with burning thirst.
Wherever there was an awning I walked under it ;
wherever there was a streak of shadow six inches
broad on the heated pavement I clung to it, but even
the best shaded streets had their crossings, and the
great central thoroughfare that stretches back from, the
levee seemed, in the fiery heat, to be about half-a-mile
wide. Fortunately or unfortunately, every house, store,
and office had its fountain of iced water, and wherever
I called, my first petition, after the usual salutation,
was for a draught of this delicious, but, as I afterwards
found, rather dangerous beverage.
The people themselves said that the weather was un
usually hot for the season, but they were on the outlook
for rain, and anticipated that after the first shower the
temperature would fall, and they should have another
month or two of tolerably cool weather.
At New Orleans, I met General Beauregard, who
played so prominent a part in the opening scenes of
the great war drama. It was he who, on the morning
of the 12th of April 1861, fired that "first gun" of im
mortal memory, which shook the continent, and awoke
the whole thunder of the war. He commanded the
Confederates at Bull Eun, and was the General who
effected the " bottling-up " of Benjamin Butler at Ber-
GENERAL BEAUREGARD. 139
muda Hundreds, but his chef-d'ceuvre was the defence
of Fort Sumter, which he held tenaciously to the last
year of the war, against all the force that the North
could bring against it. Hence his sobriquet of " THE
MAN or SUMTER," by which he became known in Con
federate history.
He is now employed as president of the New Orleans
and Great Northern Railway. His property near Mem
phis is still held by the Government. The Freedmen's
Bureau have erected a large negro school on part of it,
where I found some of Beauregard's former slaves
amongst the scholars.
Beauregard is a small, spare, genteel-looking man,
with short dark hair, and iron-grey moustache. I had
notes from some of his old comrades in arms, and he
received me with great politeness. He has French
blood in him, and his manner is more cordial than is
common amongst the Americans.
In talking of the Federal and Confederate com
manders, he spoke with great respect and admiration
of General Lee. He said Longstreet also was an
admirable soldier. "He inspired his men with per
fect confidence, which always indicates a superior
officer."
He evidently regarded Jackson, however, as the
genius of the war. " Lee was the trained soldier ; Jack
son was the born soldier. He was an extraordinary
man. He had not only the inspiration of a patriot ;
he believed that he was directly commissioned by the
Almighty. He was an enthusiast, but the people who
disparage him don't know him. He could have com
manded an army just as well as he commanded a
corps."
140 NEW ORLEANS.
Of Federal General M'Clellan he said, — " M'Clellan
was a fine engineer ; but he had been unaccustomed to
handle masses of men, and he was just getting his hand
in when he was displaced. His great defect was his
lack of personal daring ; but if they had let M'Clellan
alone they would have been in Richmond sooner than
they were."
He seemed reluctant to express his opinion of Grant.
" But," he said, " if Grant and Lee had changed places ;
if Grant had been at the head of only 50,000 men, and
Lee had had 150,000, how long do you think Grant
would have held his ground ? Or take Joe Johnston
and Sherman. If Johnston had been at the head of
Sherman's army, and Sherman at the head of Johnston's,
do you think Sherman would ever have got into the
South ; or if he got in, have ever got out again ? That
is the way to look at it. We had to fight against over
whelming odds."
Speaking of the defence of Charleston, he said, — " I
have always intended to write a history of it. But the
Federal troops captured my baggage with all the papers.
I got the baggage back, but the papers were retained,
and without them I could do nothing but write a novel
on the subject."
He said the world would never get much more than
the Northern side of the war. The North had posses
sion of all the materials, and could do with them what
it liked. On the Southern side, the " Eecollections of
Governor Allen," and " Cooke's Wearing of the Grey,"
were good, but rather sketches than history. Pollard,
he said, professed to give Confederate history, but he
was unreliable. Jordan's " Life of Forrest " was good,
and had the best account ever published of the battle
BEAUREGARD ON CONFEDERATE HISTORY. 141
of Shiloh.1 Swinton's " Army of the Potomac," though
written by a Northern man, was fair ; but was written
when everything was in confusion, and was therefore in
many points erroneous.
In answer to a question about negro soldiers, he said,
— "The negroes, if disciplined, make very efficient
soldiers ; but they have not the morale of white troops."
After referring to the changes that the war had made
in the South, and the want there was for white immi
gration to develop the resources of the country under
the new system, he showed me the map of the New
Orleans and Jackson Eailway, and, running his finger
up the eastern side of the Mississippi, said, — " We have
land there along the railway track for ten thousand
families. Your Scotch small farmers, with a little
capital and personal acquaintance with farm work, are
just the men we want, and the men that would soon
find themselves in excellent positions here."
Previous to my leaving New Orleans, the General
gave me a kind note to the railway officials along his
line, in case I should go North that way. This I was
unable to do ; but afterwards, having occasion to travel
1 The battle of Shiloh, named Sharpsburg, named from the village,
after a church, is the same known The Northern battle of the Chicka-
by the Federals as the battle of hominy, named after the river, is
Pittsburg Landing. It has been the Southern battle of Cold Harbour,
noted as a curious fact that the named after a tavern. In like man-
North, where possible, named its ner, the Northern armies were named
battles from natural, the South from from the rivers, as the Army of the
artificial objects. The North named Potomac, the Army of the Tennes-
the battle of Bull Run from a brook : see, the Army of the Cumberland ;
the South called it the battle of while the Southern Armies were
Manassas, from the adjacent railway named from the artificial divisions
station. The Northern battle of of the country— the Army of Ten-
Antietam, named from another nessee, the Army of Northern Vir-
brook, is the Southern battle of ginia, and so on.
142 NEW ORLEANS.
through part of Tennessee by rail, and finding the con
ductor — from whom I particularly wanted some infor
mation — very surly, I thought next time he came round
I would try the effect of Beauregard's note. When the
man read the note, he looked at me, and read it again ;
then, folding it up very carefully, he fired a shot of
tobacco-juice aside, and said impressively, "A friend,
sir, of General Beauregard's is a friend of mine." He
sat down beside me, and began to tell me that he had
fought under Beauregard himself at the battle of
Corinth. He gave me all the information I wanted ;
but being evidently anxious to show his respect for his
old General in some more tangible way, he went and
brought me some choice cigars, which he pressed me to
take. It was a little incident, but it is one of a thou
sand illustrations I had of the feelings which the people
cherish for their fallen chiefs.
ODD CUSTOMS. 143
ODD CUSTOMS.
THERE are some odd practices which, in the vulgar
notions about America, obtain no doubt absurd pro
minence, but which nevertheless do prevail more or less
all over the States, and specially in the South and West.
One of these is the practice of sitting with the feet thrown
up on the nearest elevation. Walking about in New
Orleans one day, my eye was arrested by the strange
spectacle of twenty or thirty pairs of boots sticking out
skywards over the gilded balcony of one of the principal
hotels. They turned out to be the boots of twenty or
thirty gentlemen sitting up in the balcony, who, with
their feet over the rail, and their chairs tipped back,
were smoking their cigars and reading the evening
papers. Even in the House of Representatives at
Washington, one of the first objects that attracted my
attention on entering was a pair of large boots exhibit
ing their soles on one of the desks immediately in front
of the Speaker's chair. On passing further in, I obtained
a view of the honourable gentleman to whom the boots
belonged, and who, leaning back in his chair, with
folded arms, had thrown his feet upon his desk as the
posture most conducive to ease and meditation. Here
and there, in that large and fine assembly, some other
member could be seen in the same strange attitude.
144 ODD CUSTOMS.
When I remarked this to Mr. Colfax, then speaker of
the House, who was with me, he said, — " You would
think that unmannerly in England. But your members
sit down in the House of Commons with their hats on.
We should consider that unmannerly here."
The negroes very naturally imitate their old masters ;
and, in the mixed Conventions in the South, it was a
ludicrous picture of the revolution that has taken place,
to see here and there, between two white members, a
coal-black gentleman reclining easily in his chair, with
his arms folded, and his large feet thrown luxuriously
over his desk.
It is only one feature of the ease and absence of
formality that strikes a stranger oddly about most
Americans. Even their representative kings and
noblemen hedge themselves round with no divinity.
Their outgoings and incomings are generally free from
all pomp and circumstance. You go up to the White
House to see the President in any kind of dress you
please, give your card to the usher, who wears no livery
of any kind, and wait your turn. The President, who
is dressed quite as plainly as you are, receives you with
out any fuss, hears what you have to say, perhaps offers
you a cigar if he thinks you a nice fellow, and shakes
hands with you before you go. All public men in
America are more accessible than with us ; and their
unvarying courtesy, in spite of the extent to which
they must be bored by visitors, continually astonished me.
In some circles, especially in the great centres of
civilisation, style and etiquette prevail just as in
refined circles here ; and, as a people, the Americans
dress better than we do. But they like to assert their
freedom ; and the contempt they often show for what
NO LIVERIES. 145
we call " appearances," strikes a stranger very oddly.
Even in New York, I remember meeting' a D.D. and
magazine editor leaving his office with a large basket
over his arm, such as a servant uses here for market
ing. At dinner-parties you often find gentlemen coming
without any regard to uniformity of attire, and at one
party in the house of a wealthy politician, I remember
our host receiving the company in his shooting-coat.
At Montgomery, Alabama, when visiting the State
House where the Confederate Government held its
first sittings, we were introduced to the Secretary of
State, who was hard at work at his desk, and who
received us cordially in his shirt- sleeves. One of the
heads of departments at Des Moines, in the State of
Iowa, welcomed us in exactly the same costume. The
day was warm, and it was more comfortable to be
without one's coat. Why then should he keep it on ?
It was the Eepublican idea in its rough form. The
man was there — the Secretary of State was there- —
coat or no coat made no difference in his ability to do
his work. The coat was nothing ; the man was every
thing.
All official costumes or liveries are unpopular in
the States. They seem to be regarded as menial and
unrepublican. Even the railway guards and porters
dress just like other people. The conductor occa
sionally wears a little band round his cap, or a little
silver brooch fastened on his coat, that you may know
him ; but it is only to prevent confusion, and let you
see that you are giving your ticket to the right man.
Ministers dress like laymen, very rarely wearing a
white tie, either in the pulpit or out of it. As for
pulpit-gowns, I don't remember having seen such a
VOL. II. K
146 ODD CUSTOMS.
thing in the United States, except in Episcopal
churches. The common practice is for the minister
to walk up to the pulpit in his overcoat, and take it
off there at his leisure — sometimes taking off his over
shoes there also. At public meetings even greater
license is sometimes claimed. Smith, the late Governor
of Virginia, began a speech on one occasion with his
overcoat and muffler both on. Finding himself getting
too warm, he threw them off and proceeded. When the
vehemence of his delivery began 'to bring out a per
spiration upon him, he said, — " If the audience will
allow me, I will take off my coat," — which he did.
Warming still more over his subject, he next threw off
his collar, unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, rolled up
his sleeves, and in this state delivered a peroration
that brought down the house.
When I remarked to a friend in the Old Dominion
that it was strange to see so much absence of formality,
he said, — " You will find more of that sort of thing in
the Carolinas." Failing to see much of it even there, I
mentioned the fact to a young lawyer at Ealeigh.
" Oh !" said he, " if it is ancient forms you want, come
up to the Supreme Court to-morrow morning, and see it
opened in the old Norman style."
I was there before the hour, and found the judges,
attorneys, and clients all talking familiarly together
round the stove. The Marshall, Mr. Litchford, vulgarly
known as " Old Litchford," whose business it is to open
the Court, was also there, dressed like a respectable
working-man, without any badge of office. Litchford,
by the way, was the identical tailor to whom Andrew
Johnson, afterwards President of the United States, was
apprenticed in Ealeigh when he was a tailor- lad.
WHITTLING. 147
When nine o'clock arrived, the Judges took their
seats upon the Bench, and the Chief Justice ordered
the Marshall to open the Court. Whereupon old Litch-
ford, rolling his quid into his cheek, and squirting, cried,
— " 0 yez ! 0 yez ! this Supreme Court is now opened ;
God bless the State and this honourable Court !" and
wound up with another squirt by way of peroration.
The Supreme Court of North Carolina was thus re
opened in the old Norman style. It was comical enough,
but then the Supreme Court was not the less Supreme,
nor were the lawyers less able or less eminent men on
that account. I daresay many of our forms appear just
as absurd to the Americans.
Mr. Vance, ex-govern or of the same State, said jocosely,
when this subject was mooted, — " Don't go away with
the notion that we discard forms. Judge - — , sir, is
as great a stickler for forms as any man in your country.
One day a soldier, who had been battered considerably
in the war, was brought in as a witness. The Judge
told him to hold up his right hand.
" Can't do it, sir," said the man.
"Why not?"
" Got a shot in that arm, sir."
" Then hold up your left."
The man said he had got a shot in that arm too.
" Then," said the Judge, sternly, " you must hold up
your leg. No man can be sworn, sir, in this Court by
law, unless he holds up something !"
Whittling is another odd practice still common enough
with some Americans when they have nothing better to
do, or have any nervous energy to work off. The ex-
governor just referred to, when I first saw him in a
148 ODD CUSTOMS.
friend's office, was amusing himself, as he talked to his
friend notching the corner of the rude chair with his
whittling knife. Bourienne records the same thing of
Napoleon, so let us suppose that it is a mark of genius.
I remember, at the General Assembly of the Old School
Presbyterians at Albany, observing Dr. Charles Hodge,
the well-known American theologian, sitting in the sofa
of honour in rear of the platform, intent, during the
greater part of a debate, in cutting the top of a stick
into what appeared to be intended for a dog's head.
They tell the story of a young American, who, being
poor, found great difficulty in overcoming the objection
of his inamorata's father to the match. One day he
took his minister with him to testify to his character
and urge his suit. While the minister did so, the ex
cited youth sat nervously whittling the top of his stick.
The old gentleman watched him, and at last got up and
said, — " No, sir, you shan't have my daughter. I have
watched you whittling that stick, and if you had made
a man's head of it, or a dog's head, or the likeness of
any mortal thing in heaven above or in the earth be
neath, I'd have said, 'Take the girl;' but a man that
whittles a stick for fifteen minutes and makes nothing
of it, ain't worth a ten-cent cuss."
A much less agreeable and at the same time a much
more common habit in America, is the chewing and
spitting of tobacco. This practice prevails more or
less all over the continent, from the Atlantic to the
Pacific, and from Canada to the Mexican Gulf.
Happily it is disappearing in New England, and
from amongst the classes of highest refinement all
over the States. But the extent to which it still pre
vails in some parts of the South and West would
TOBACCO-SPITTING. 149
scarcely be credited. You see people chewing and
spitting in the streets, in the stores, in the hotels,
especially around the stove, and in every ferryboat,
steamboat, and railway car. I remember, on the
Charlotte Road, a man getting out at a way-station,
where his wife was meeting him. He appeared to be
delighted to see her, and stepping up, rolled his quid
into his " off cheek," gave a diagonal squirt, to prepare
for the enjoyment, and then kissed her. There was a
juiciness about the transaction that keeps it very fresh
in my memory. Even in New England you see the
floors of railway cars traversed with heavy splashes of
tobacco juice, which have been projected with inade
quate force in the direction of some distant spittoon ;
and at other times filthy with puddles of the same
fluid, gradually thickening and expanding between the
feet of assiduous chawers. I can still recall the intense
gratification with which I beheld the man who sat next
me letting fall his clean copy of Harper's Monthly into
the puddle he had been making between his feet and
mine.
It is not only the commoner classes that indulge in
this offensive habit. I remember one of the most
eminent ministers in South Carolina, with whom I had
a warm discussion at his own fireside on the subject of
slavery, pulling a knife out of one pocket, a cake of
tobacco out of another, cutting a plug for himself, and
beginning to chew and spit vigorously, as if to work off
the extra 'excitement, and keep himself cool enough for
argument. I remember the Governor of another
Southern State explaining to me the strange relation
in which he stood to the Military Department, and
nailing down each statement with an emphatic squirt
into the adjacent spittoon. I remember still more
150 ODD CUSTOMS.
vividly — the incongruity was so ludicrous to one un
accustomed to the fashion of the country — a Southern
poet reading me some of his verses, with a large plug
of tobacco in his mouth; and every now arid then,
when his mouth became too full, stopping in the
middle of some beautiful line to squirt another mouth
ful of tobacco juice towards the grate. In Courts of
Justice you sometimes see the officer give a squirt, and
call up the next witness, the witness take up the Bible,
and give a squirt before kissing it; and the Mayor
squirting in the spittoon at his feet before proceeding to
put the man upon his oath. All this is so much a
thing of custom that the people themselves are almost
unconscious of it, and probably will not believe how
conspicuous it is to a stranger. It seems to them no
more offensive than smoking appears to us, or snuffing
did to our grandfathers.
It is a partial approximation to our own views of the
practice that it is considered desirable to have the ex
pectorated juice discharged into spittoons and carried
forth from the sight of men. In many of the railway
cars, placards are stuck up requesting particularly that
gentlemen will spit in the spittoons. In deference to
which request I observed that gentlemen spat in the
direction of the spittoons, but not always with the
success which one could have desired. On one line
the check-tickets which passengers get to stick in their
hats had the following admonition on the back : —
Those who expect-to-rate as gentlemen,
will not expectorate on the floor !
Spittoons are everywhere. They occupy an honoured
CARRYING ARMS. 151
place at the White House. They cover the floors of
both Houses of Congress, and the floors of all the
Legislative Halls throughout the country. They
abound in steamboat saloons and cabins, in railway
cars, in stores, offices, private houses, colleges, and even
in places of public worship. I was only surprised that
the national principle had not introduced one with a
chawed-up plug of tobacco in it under the beak of the
American eagle, with the view of properly indicating
its nationality.
The increasing refinement of the country, however,
is setting its face against this disgusting practice. '
Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in Askelon, but it
is said that ladies in some parts of the South use
tobacco also. Not in the public and vulgar way
common amongst the men, but in the form of snuff,
into which a little stick of fibrous wood is dipped and
then chewed. The practice is known in North Carolina
by the name of "dipping." It is said to keep the teeth
beautiful and white. I sometimes saw a negro woman
with the dipping stick between her lips ; but white
ladies are not disposed to own the soft impeachment,
and reports vary as to the prevalence of the practice.
Another custom which is queer enough at a proper
distance is that of carrying arms. Such a thing is
scarcely known in New England or the settled
Northern States, but in some parts of the South and
South-west it seemed to me that almost everybody
carried some murderous weapon about with him. I
remember one day, in Alabama, getting into conversa
tion in the cars with a mild-looking gentleman who sat
opposite, and expressing my surprise at this practice.
152 ODD CUSTOMS.
" I guess," said he, " it 's safer. I always carry seven
shots about with me myself."
The mild-looking gentleman, as he spoke, drew up
a corner of his vest and gave me a glimpse of a revolver
that was stuck into his trousers' pocket.
I found he was connected with the Government
operations for completing the national cemeteries ; so
that he might be, or might suppose himself to be, more
in danger than ordinary men. The disturbed state of
the country at the time probably caused an unusually
large number to go about armed, but the practice seems
to have been always common over a great part of the
South, as well as along the Western frontiers, where
the unsettled state of society and the inaccessibility of
proper Courts of Justice, throw upon every man the
duty of self-defence. I cannot say that, even in the
worst parts, I encountered any of those dangerous
characters who are said to pick their teeth with bowie-
knives ; but in liquor- saloons and gambling-houses
(which the reader will not mistake my motive in visit
ing) I have seen a man change his revolver to a more
convenient pocket, or unbuckle it and lay it under his
elbow, as if to give fair warning that he was not to be
trifled with. People who frequent such places must, of
course, take their chance, and are themselves to blame,
if they get into a brawl at last, and are cut up with a
bowie-knife, or shot. But I am disposed to estimate
as very slight the danger which any man runs, even in
the worst parts of the South-west, who is engaged in
honest work and attends to his own business. At New
Orleans, which had a bad character for murder and
outrage before the war, I was spending an evening
with Mr. M'Coard, a Scotchman, who has been there
for the greater part of his life. When I spoke to him
CARRYING ARMS.
153
about this practice of carrying arms, lie put his finger
into his waistcoat pocket and brought forth a small
penknife with one of the blades broken.
"This/' said he, "is the only weapon I have ever
carried, and I have been here for thirty years, and have
often had occasion to pass at night through the worst
parts of this city. But, then, I attended to my own
business, and interfered with nobody else."1
1 Let me add a word here about
the alleged dangerous intolerance of
the Southern people, of which I had
often read in books, and of which I
had several times been warned in the
North. If it is common now, as
it seems to have been in the days
and on the subject of slavery, I saw
very little of it ; and even when dis
cussing questions on which my views
were entirely at variance with theirs,
I found myself always listened to
with patience, and treated with the
most perfect courtesy.
I confess to having doubts whether
the same consideration would always
have been shown me had I come
from New England instead of Scot
land. The feeling against Northern
measures, Northern institutions, and
Northern people, was very strong,
and seemed to have been imbibed
even by the children. " 0 God,
bless our folks," prayed one little
Southern child, at her mother's
knee, "but don't you, God, be go
ing and blessing the Yankees !"
Northern capitalists trying to settle
in the South, were getting the cold
shoulder given them ; and Northern
officers were, as a rule, excluded
from Southern society. I feel bound
to say that, as far as my observation
went, this antipathy was almost en
tirely on the Southern side. In the
North, I heard almost nothing ex
pressed but compassion for the
South in her desolation, regret that
the war had become necessary, and
sincere desire (the war being over
and the new principles established)
to live with the Southern people on
terms of cordial friendship. Of
course the circumstances of North
and South after the war have much
to do with this difference of feeling.
Magnanimity and kindness are vir
tues much easier of practice to the
victor than to the vanquished. But
Soxithern feeling is not the less to
be deplored, and it is pleasant to
see that in many quarters it is
changing. I remember, in the hotel
at Raleigh, hearing a long and ami
cable discussion carried on between
old Federal and Confederate officers
who, three years before, had been
seeking each others' lives on the field
of battle. And now that slavery,
the great wall of partition, is thrown
down, and intercourse between
North and South is daily increasing,
it may be confidently anticipated
that the two peoples, coming to
know each other better, will come
to love and honour and respect each
other more.
154: UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
X.
UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
"ARE you going as far as the Mississippi Eiver?"
a New York friend asked me before I began my
Southern tour.
I said it was my hope to get as far as that at least.
" Then take my advice," he said, " and don't go
aboard a Mississippi steamer."
"Why not?"
"Because you '11 run the risk of going heavenwards
faster than you want," he replied; "these steamers
have an ugly habit of blowing up."1
"Do you intend sailing on the Mississippi?" asked
another friend when I had got to Philadelphia.
I told him that very likely I should.
" Because, if you do/' he said, " I would recommend
you to take a berth as far aft as possible."
" For what reason ?"
" Because if there 's a blow-up," he said, " you have a
better chance of getting ashore."
Similar advices were given by so many friends in the
Eastern States, some of them in joke, others manifestly
1 The correspondent of a Western- had been blown. When asked how
paper, who had been blown up on he had got down again, he replied, —
the Mississippi, published shortly " I greased my pants and slid down
afterwards a description of the on a rainbow."
heavenly land to which, he said, he
HIGH PRESSURE. 155
in earnest, that when at New Orleans I did go aboard
a Mississippi steamer on my way to Vicksburg, the
possibility of an explosion was sufficiently present to
my mind to make me ask the clerk as a particular
favour to let me have a berth as far aft as he could.
" I reckon," he said, as he passed me the book to
enter my name, " most of the aft berths are taken up ;
but I '11 give you the farthest aft there is vacant/'
I thanked him with great cordiality, and, on his
giving me my key, went off in good spirits to see where
my cabin was. I confess to a very distinct subsidence
in my feelings of gratitude and satisfaction when I
found that the aft berths had been so far taken up that
mine was the one exactly over the boiler-pipes. The
steamer, however, looked so magnificent, with her deck-
cabins towering into the sky, and her vast saloon
sparkling with white and gold, that I felt as if the
explosion of so majestic a structure was not a thing to
be imagined.
When the engines began to work and the floating
palace moved out into the river, I felt this confidence
beginning to give way. I don't know whether her being
a high-pressure steamboat had anything to do with it,
but instead of making the usual noise of machinery, she
began to draw huge soft breaths that seemed to inflate
her from stem to stern ; and while it sent her speeding
on with her airy bulk over the smooth water, gave at
the same time a light tremulous jigging motion to
everything, as if the mighty fabric were constructed of
pasteboard.
Nor was this the last source of uneasiness. When
night came on I retired to my cabin. It was a beauti
ful little room — one of a hundred such — all white and
156 UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
gold, with muslin curtains, marble washstand, and a
mirror with resplendent frame. But a skeleton pre
sided at this feast of upholstery. Over the mirror was
fastened a neatly printed card conveying the following
little piece of information : —
Passengers will find
LIFE-BELTS
under their berths.
The doors can also be lifted
easily off their hinges, and the
MATTRESSES
make good life-preservers.
I confess that I did not go to bed any easier in mind
after reading that. It was no doubt well to know that,
if occasion called for it, a life-belt was within arm's -
length ; also that the door could be lifted easily off its
hinges ; but the possibility of having to make a run
down the Mississippi Eiver in the middle of the night
on the back of a cabin- door, was not the most cheerful
thought with which to lull one's-self to repose. I have
said that my berth was immediately over the boiler-
pipes. The steam in these vessels is not blown off near
the top of the funnel, as in ours, but is blown out
through the side. The consequence was, that whenever
during the night the steamer had to stop at any place,
I was first of all startled by the hollow shriek of a
steam- whistle, which was instantly succeeded by a
horrible sound as of a volcano opening under my berth,
and a roar of steam, which seemed bellowing on me to
spring up, unhinge the cabin-door, and prepare for the
worst.
The first night accustomed me to all this ; and after-
RIVER STEAMERS. 157
wards, in the different Mississippi steamers of which I
had experience, I slept as comfortably as in my own
bed at home, especially when I got a little farther away
from the boiler-pipes.
Apart from the danger of explosion, which, after all,
is much less than at first it seems, these steamers are
admirably contrived for comfort. That one from New
Orleans to Vicksburg — the " Eobert E. Lee" — was the
largest and finest I saw on any American river except
the St. Lawrence and the Hudson. Her accommodation
was immense ; her gorgeous saloon, extending without
a break from end to end of the steamer (for the machinery
is all on the lower deck), was richly carpeted, and had
tables, reading-desks, and luxurious lounges without
number. The very spittoons were richly silvered. The
mode of building up these steamers, terrace above ter
race, gives the choice of three open decks to walk upon ;
and every cabin passenger has a bedroom to himself.
Each room is fitted up with two beds, but, except from
choice, two persons are never " roomed" together unless
the steamer is crowded. The greater part of the saloon
aft of the centre tables is fitted up in even more luxu
rious style, and is reserved for ladies, and for gentlemen
who have ladies with them.
The steamers on the Hudson River are still more
magnificent, and at the same time safer and more sub
stantial. Their saloons are like lofty glittering arcades,
with three or four airy galleries on both sides — each
gallery, with its long line of cabin-doors, painted in
white and gold.
The fare on these steamers is almost as sumptuous
as at the hotels, an extraordinary variety of dishes being
provided at every meal. The charge is about five dol-
158 UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
lars a day — say twelve to fifteen shillings of our money
— and this includes everything, passage-money, bed
room, meals, and service. Eiver travelling in America,
in these first-class steamers, free as it is from all danger
of storm and sea- sickness, is the most delicious and
luxurious kind of travelling of which I have ever had
experience.
The greatest want on the Mississippi is the want of
scenery. Till you get up twelve or fifteen hundred
miles from the Gulf, there is almost no variety. This
may be said to be a feature of American scenery gener
ally. It is told of some plaid- weaver, that he projected
a tartan of so vast a check that it would have required
four Highland regiments to be dressed in it to let the
entire pattern be seen. American scenery is on that
kind of scale. You sometimes travel hundreds of miles
before you see any change or get a glimmering of the
general pattern. There are, of course, exceptions. Splendid
river scenery is got on the Hudson, which is the Ehine
of the United States ; magnificent landscapes are also
got along the Blue Eidge and up the Valley of Virginia ;
and in California, which I did not get across to see, the
Yo Semite Valley is acquiring the reputation amongst
travellers of being unsurpassed in grandeur by any
scenery in the world. And of course there are parti
cular sights, such as Niagara, and the Kentucky Caves,
and the Natural Bridge, that rank among the wonders
of the world. But all this is exceptional. America,
over the greater part of her immense area, is flat and
tame. Even some of her mountain ranges rise so im
perceptibly, that they lose the ordinary appearance of
mountains. A gentleman who had come over the Eocky
Mountains said the only two things he had failed to
MISSISSIPPI SCENERY. 159
discover were mountains and rocks. The main features
of American scenery are two, namely, flat forest land
and flat prairie land.
On the lower Mississippi the scenery is particularly
monotonous. Standing on the topmost deck or flat
roof of the steamer to get the widest view, you behold
around you what seems to be a lake. The banks or
shores, when the river is full, are a mere rim to the
water, and are clothed with wood, over which, especially
on the newly deposited lands, where the spontaneous
growth of cotton-wood is low, you get glimpses of a
vast expanse of forest beyond, melting into blue haze.
As you steam swiftly on, the low- lying woods are con
tinually closing in behind and gliding apart in front,
revealing reach after reach of river, still separated from
the sky by the same low rim of wooded brink. Some
times, far ahead, you may discern, rising from the flat
expanse, a hilly ridge or " bluff." But in two or three
hours it has glided to the rear, and is sinking again into
the level expanse out of which it rose. Darkness comes
and you retire to rest, the steamer speeding on at the
rate of fifteen or sixteen miles an hour all through the
night. In the morning you get up and mount again to
your point of observation, only to see the same thing
repeating itself — the low alluvial banks along both
sides, the expanse of forest, and the reaches of river one
after another opening up ahead. And so through that
boundless expanse, which is one day to be the home of
millions of human families, you move on and on un
ceasingly.
The river flows in so sinuous a course, and parts its
.arms so often to take in an island, that from the steam
boat the rising or setting sun shifts about in the most
160 UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
bewildering manner from front to back, and from one
side to the other. Sometimes the river makes a vast
detour, returning after a sweep of twenty or thirty
miles to near the spot from which the detour began.
At these points it sooner or later makes a new channel
for itself across the neck of land. This is called a shoot,
and as soon as it becomes deep enough, steamers and
rafts avail themselves of it to shorten the distance.
Over great tracks the river flows at a higher level than
the land, and is kept in its place only by the banks it
has washed up for itself. An overflow or a giving way
of this barrier sometimes converts a region as large as
an English county into an inland sea.
The Mississippi looked its best at that season, being
deepened and broadened by the melting of the winter
snows in the far North. The rising of the river seemed
everywhere the item of news most interesting to the
people ; and the telegrams announcing that " At Cincin
nati, on the 14th, the river was rising — weather clear,"
and that " On the 1 5th, the Arkansas Eiver had risen
twenty feet," were read with as much eagerness as a
rise in stock would excite in people holding scrip. The
rising of the river means, for that part of the continent,
the opening up of the North-west and the commence
ment of the summer trade. At other seasons, especially
after a long summer drought, the river is low, and navi
gation becomes more difficult and dangerous.1
1 It is said that during the war the coast, where the rivers and
the men fronffar up country, where sloughs become flooded by the
they were accustomed to no rise in tide-water. One case was that of a
the level of their inland waters, ex- Hard-shell Baptist preacher, acting
cept after rains or the melting of the as a captain in the Confederate ser-
snows in the far North, were often vice, who, with his company, was
bewildered and thrown out of their sent across what he took to be a
reckoning when brought down near shallow stream to reconnoitre. Find-
SNAGS. 161
We hear a great deal about the number of accidents
on the Mississippi, but the wonder to those who have
travelled on it must be, that the accidents are so few as
they are. Even where the river is a mile or half-a-mile
wide, the channel is often narrow, and is continually
shifting. Then there are the " snags." These snags are
trees which have dropped into the river and been swept
down, till meeting with some obstruction they have
stuck, their heavy roots getting embedded in the mud
at the bottom, while their trunks, under the influence
of the current, are kept pointing down the river. There
they remain, slanting up like a spear, ready to transfix
any steamer that runs up against them. When they
are long enough to protrude from the water they are
less dangerous, because visible — at least by day. Even
when they come close to the surface, they betray their
presence ' by causing a disturbance in the otherwise
smooth flow of the water, as if a gigantic fish were
arrowing its way against the current. But some of
them keep their heads sufficiently far below not to dis
turb the smooth current, and yet sufficiently near the
surface to strike a steamer passing over. These are the
ing himself in the neighbourhood of brethering, I have been a preacher
a vastly superior force of the enemy, of the gospel for twenty years, and
he concealed his men and lay close was always agin' cussin', but the
for several hours. His position, Yankees is a-coming, and a tre-
however, became so perilous that menjus rain somewhar has riz this
he prepared stealthily to withdraw. here creek, so that we can't cross,
He was gliding rapidly away with and I swar for once boys, by the
his men, when, coming to the slough, Lord, we 've got to stand now and
he found, to his horror and amaze- fight like devils."1
ment, that it was now about ten feet One of his men, however, was able
deep ! He gazed into the deep water to direct him to a ford, which they
for some time with the look of a man all crossed in safety ; the astonished
who has got into a world of danger- captain getting his first practical
ous enchantments. At length, turn- lesson on the tides,
ing to his men, he said, " My
VOL. II. L
162 UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
hidden monsters that bring most peril into Mississippi
navigation. How the pilots are able to detect and
evade them so well as they do is to me a mystery ; and
the wonder is increased tenfold when it is remembered
that these vast steamers run through the night as well
as through the day. Sometimes I have gone up at night
to what may be called the roof of the steamer, on which
the pilot-house is reared, and have not only found it
impossible, through the darkness, to make out anything
distinctly on the river, but even to detect, in the black
line of forest visible on both sides against the sky, any
break that might have served as a landmark. The
Mississippi pilots must have eyes like a cat.
The insatiable desire of every Mississippi captain and
pilot to beat every other, adds an element of danger
that might well be dispensed with. ISTo steamer is ever
allowed to pass another without a struggle. If you are
making up upon one ahead, you will presently see
denser volumes of smoke begin to issue from her fun
nels in preparation for the inevitable race. If you look
up at the smoke from your own steamer, you will per
ceive evidence of similar preparations ; and if you go
to the lower deck where the engines are, you will find
the furnace-doors open, and the stokers busy tossing
bars of wood into the roaring fires, to work up the
motive power to its highest point.
I remember our coming up one day with a steamer
that had just come off from a station at the bank where
she had been taking in wood. She gave two "toots"
with her steam-pipe, which were instantly responded
to by our steamer. I asked a gentleman, who had just
come on the balcony beside me, what that signal
meant ?
STEAM-BOAT RACING. 163
" It 's a race," he said. " I reckon we '11 put that
craft astern or we '11 go up."
Both steamers were already quickening their speed.
The long soft breathing of ours had soon changed into
a deep panting sound ; the shuddering from stem to
stern became tremendous ; and the passengers of both
steamers, crowding to the side, forgot all sense of danger
in the furious desire to see their own steamer win. The
two were now perilously near one another, and rushing
over the water with terrific velocity. The race was of
very brief duration. Our steamer drew ahead foot by
foot and yard by yard ; the interest began to abate-;
and the other steamer, when she saw there was no
hope, gave it up and dropt astern, followed by the ex^
ulting cheers of our men, one of whom, with stentorian
lungs, derisively offered her a tow-line.
These little excitements help to pass the time, as
also do the meals, which emerge into prominence when
one has little else to do than lounge and eat, and lounge
and eat again. The monotony is further relieved by
the numerous stoppages. These steamers burn up their
fuel so fast that they have to stop frequently to take
in more. One steamer will burn 60 to 80 cords of
wood a day, each cord being a pile 8 feet long by 4
high, and 4 across, and costing about $3. Eighty cords
of wood is reckoned as equivalent to 800 or 1000
bushels of coal. At certain points on the river, the
wood is ready on a raft, which is brought out and
lashed to the side of the steamer. This allows her to
hold on her course while the fuel is taken in, after
which the raft is thrown off to be carried back by the
river to its place again. At other points, the wood is
piled on the river bank, and the steamer stops along-
164 UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
side. As time is precious, the taking in of the wood
is generally a scene of great stir and excitement. The
gangways are no sooner out than a swarm of negroes
pour out upon the bank from the lower deck, with
exciting cries, and attack the first cord. Those who
carry the wood in use one gangway, those who are
returning for more use another, all of them trotting at
each other's heels, and stimulating each other with
shouts. In this way, to use a vulgar expression, they
keep the pot boiling till the wood is all aboard, when
the steamer instantly moves oft*. Frequently, also,
in the course of the day, stoppages are made at
villages and plantations, scattered thinly over the vast
expanse. These minor landing-places rarely boast of
piers. The banks of the river being low, the steamer
simply turns in, brings her cheek against the bank,
runs out her gangway, takes in or puts ashore any
passengers or goods ; and being by this time turned in
the right direction by the current, she moves out into
the river again and resumes her course. Sometimes
she touches at a place where only one or two wooden
houses are visible in the clearing, but which a large
board stuck across two poles at the landing informs
you is " Bowden City," or " New Babylon." Odd as it
looks, there is something suggestive in the spectacle
of a man squatting in one of these vast solitudes and
calling his log cabin a city. It shows his belief in the
future of-his country. He is walking by faith, not by
sight. Already, with prophetic eye, he sees around
him the civilisation of which he is only the pioneer —
beholds warehouses, and public squares, and miles of
busy streets, where, in the meantime, there is nothing
but swamp and primeval forest, and his lonely wooden
house standing in the clearing.
LOOKING TO THE FUTURE. 165
This looking to the future strikes one everywhere in
America. Travelling through that vast Bepublic, with
its States as large as European kingdoms, one seems to
hear the whole continent filled with the noise of those
forty millions of hands busy rearing a throne for the
future empire of the world. The scaffolding is up, and
everything as yet looks rough, raw, and unfinished.
The roads are bad ; the railway tracks are rougli ; even
on the best farms and plantations the fields seem but
half- reclaimed, and towns, farm-houses, and churches,
over half the continent, are built of wood, often hand
somely built, beautiful to look upon under their paint
and stucco, .and decoration, but still frail and im
provised. Even the big cities seem but the tem
porary habitations of the powerful life that has thrown
them up, and filled them with noise and traffic. The
continent is only being cleared. It is a world of pre
paration, living not on the memories of the past, but on
the visions of its great future. And so Ephraim
Bowden, when he has bought a patch of wilderness on
the Mississippi, and knocked up his wooden shanty,
forthwith sticks two poles and a cross- board at the
landing-place, and paints on it the name " Bowden
City." Noble, onward-looking Ephraim ! God grant
that the Father of Waters may not come over his banks
some night and convert the " city " into a river bed.
But besides prospective cities, like Mr. Bowden's,
you come upon real and actual cities — centres of
population forming at intervals along that endless
highway of commerce. One night it is Natchez, glitter
ing on its dark ridge, and mingling its lights with the
stars. Next day it is Vicksburg, slumbering on its
sunny hills. Two days after it is Memphis, the
1G6 UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
western capital of Tennessee. Two nights and two
days more of swift sailing bring you to the vast city
of St. Louis, with its front of seven miles. But even
these are mere spots in the interminable expanse.
The extent of the area that has to be traversed in
order to get north from the Gulf to the Lakes was
brought home to me at that season by the change of
climate. As I passed up the Mississippi, stopping here
and there to make little excursions east and west to
see the country, the season was steadily advancing at
each point, but to those passing north it was retrograd
ing. The summer sun was blazing in the sky when we
left New Orleans, the swamps were vividly green, and
the forests in leaf. As we passed up the river, day by
day, and week by week, the hands of the season seemed
to be going back. The woods began to grow less green,
the leaves folded themselves back into the bad, the
buds shrunk back into the naked boughs ; and when I
reached the shores of Michigan the country was covered
with snow.1
Few things impress one with the vastness of America
more than the length of the river voyages, especially on
the Mississippi and her tributaries. From New Orleans
you have 200 miles of sailing up country through the
region of sugar-planting, before reaching the mouth of
1 1 had the privilege, indeed, of way north ; and a few weeks later,
enjoying three springs in that one after enjoying the more advanced
year. The peach and plum trees season in Virginia and Maryland, I
were bursting into blossom as I found myself in British America in
passed south into Georgia. This time to catch the spring once more,
was the first spring. I got back to in the Canadian woods, preparing
winter in Illinois and Ohio ; but them with the utmost despatch for
crossing the country from thence in the advent of summer, which, when
a south-westerly direction to Vir- it does come, comes by Express,
ginia, I met the spring again on its
INLAND SAILING. 167
the Eed Eiver; and other 600 miles up the Bed Eiver
to reach Lanesport in Arkansas. From New Orleans
up to the mouth of the Ohio you have 1050 miles, and
1000 more up the Ohio to Pittsburg in Pennsylvania.
On the Mississippi itself, the sail from New Orleans to
St. Anthony, in Minnesota, is over 2000. Or if, after
steaming 1200 miles up the Mississippi, you turn off
into the red Missouri, the steamer takes you 1500
miles further before stopping at Fort Pierre. On the
Missouri alone, from its point of junction with the
Mississippi, you can sail 3200 miles inland to Benton,
being a longer sail by several hundreds of miles than
from Great Britain to America. Is it a wonder that
the American speaks proudly of his great country ?
168 WESTERN NOTES.
XII
WESTERN NOTES.
IF America's river travelling is exceptionally good,
her road travelling is exceptionally bad. Probably the
worst roads on the face of the civilized earth are the
high-roads and by-roads of the United States. I have
a vivid recollection of one drive with a planter along,
what he called, the "right straight road" from one
place to another, where, for half-a-mile at a time, we
had to sit with our feet up on the splash-board, while
the horse rather swam than waded with the buggy after
him. I said this was a frightful road.
"Wall, it is damp !" said the planter.
The water was fortunately clear in most places, and
my companion pointed once or twice with his whip to
what he called " a considerable fish scooting across the
road." At one point, where the water seemed to be
becoming deeper and muddier, he looked anxiously
ahead, and said he hoped " that 'ere bridge was in its
place to-day."
I asked him with some concern if there was any
possibility of its not being there.
" Beckon after the rains it gets adrift sometimes," he
replied. " Once I tried this road I met the bridge
going the other way, about half-a-mile back of here."
STAGING IT. 169
Fortunately on the present occasion we found the
bridge in its place.
Another experience recurs to me in this connection.
Crossing the Blue Eidge of Virginia, in the early sum
mer of 1868, I came to Goshen, on the way to Lexing
ton. While waiting for the Lexington stage-coach to
come round, I asked a man, who was smoking in the
verandah of the hotel, what sort of road it was. He
didn't know exactly, but " reckoned it was powerful
rough." Another man in a slouched hat, who was
lounging behind, was of the milder opinion that the
road was " not bad but bumpy." I regret that I never
met this man again to ascertain what in his opinion
was needed to make a road bad as well as bumpy.
We had not left Goshen long before the coach began
to jolt tremendously. I asked a boy, who was my
fellow-passenger for the first mile or two, why the
roads were not kept in better order.
"Oh!" said he, just as a sudden lurch nearly threw
him into my lap, " this ain't nuthin'. This is kinder
smooth. When you get up past the Furnace there's
ruts that deep " (indicating the length of his arm) ; " and
after dark, Joe (the driver) ken't see whar the holes
is."
This prediction proved too true. By the time we got
past the Furnace the jolting became so incessant and
terrific that I had to tie my hat on with a handkerchief,
and almost suspend myself over the broad belt that
formed a back to the centre seat, to keep myself from
being shaken to pieces. At first I was apprehensive
that the stage might topple over and roll down into the
river ; but when darkness came on, and the road became
worse, I began to doubt whether, supposing we did go
170 WESTERN NOTES.
over, I should be able to know any difference till we
plopped into the water.
The distance to Lexington is a mere bagatelle — not
too much to be got over, on an English road, between
tea and supper ; and yet, although I was the only pas
senger, which, no doubt, made the jolting worse, it took
four stout horses (not to mention the frantic driver)
from half-past six that evening till three o'clock next
morning to accomplish the distance — being eight hours
and a half to a drive of twenty odd miles. My wonder
was that we got to Lexington with bones unbroken and
wheels still upon the coach.
There is another road from Lexington to the railway,
by Stanton ; but the saying at Lexington is, that which
ever one you take, you by-and-by wish devoutly you
had tried the other.
Another variety of sensation is enjoyed in swampy
regions, on what are called "Corduroy roads," which
consist of logs or trunks of trees laid transversely and
close together, and which are distinguishable as Hickety-
crickety or Hunker- chunker roads, according to the
thickness of the logs. Corduroy roads, however, have a
method and monotony in their madness, and when
your bones and teeth have once begun to " dirl," you
have nothing new to apprehend, unless any of the logs
are missing.
The roads out west, and especially over the open
prairie are- different from all these. They are often
delightful in dry weather, but after rain! — imagine a
continent of mud, and you have some idea of what
awaits you.
A story is told of a man struggling in his waggon
along a heavy prairie-road, and seeing in a vast mud-
PRAIRIE ROADS. 171
slough at the roadside a man's hat. Inferring from its
motion that there must be somebody in the mud below
it, he shouted, " Hollo, pardner, can I help you out of
thar?"
" Never mind," replied a voice from under the hat,
" I 've got a powerful horse under me !"
"When the traveller on one of these prairie roads finds
his own horse floundering up to the girths in mud, and
sinking deeper and finding no bottom, he begins to see
the point of that story.
In a new country, where the population is thinly
scattered over a vast area, one can scarcely wonder at
all this. What can people do to their roads on a bound
less alluvial prairie, where the clay is from ten to fifteen
feet in depth, and where, for twenty miles at a time,
not a single tree is to be seen, rocks are nowhere, and
stones are as scarce as diamonds ? 1 But one does feel
aggrieved to find some of the streets in the great cities
and centres of population almost as bad. I remember
in the City of Memphis stopping at a street corner to
try the depth of a mud-hole with my stick. The friend
with me recommended care in case my stick got lost in
it. He said a wag had once put a stick up behind that
hole with the announcement, " Bo AD COMMISSIONER
GONE DOWN HERE ! " In speaking of New York, I
referred to the condition of the roads in that city. On
New Year's Day, the weather being sleety, many of the
principal streets were literally swimming with mud — a
peculiar trial to the New Yorkers, who swarm about on
1 The Western people, possibly "gathering rocks." In a case be-
owing to the scarcity of real rocks, fore the court at S* Louis, a girl
speak of every little stone as a rock. was fined for "throwing rocks " at
"Rocking" a person means throwing another,
stones at him. They speak of boys
172 WESTERN NOTES.
that day calling at the houses of all their friends, where
it is the fashion for the ladies to sit in dress and receive
them. The people were all in " rubbers." Even
people who drove needed these to make their way from
the carriage to the door. One gentleman was seen by
a newspaper reporter wading triumphantly along in
fishing-boots. " Ye gods ! ye gods ! " cried the New
York Herald next morning, " must we endure all this?"
In Chicago, the friend whose hospitality I enjoyed said
that he had often seen, at the west end of Lake Street
in that city, a barrel floated over a mud-hole, with the
warning intimation upon it
No BOTTOM.
If a horse got in, it sunk and had to be drawn out with
ropes. It was a joke that there was good trout-fishing
in some of these holes.
And yet a vast deal of money is spent in many of
these cities in keeping the streets in repair ; and every
kind of paving, asphalting, and macadamizing has
been tried. In St. Louis I observed some streets floored
with iron gratings, others macadamized, and others
paved with wooden bricks laid on a floor of sanded
planks, and cemented with asphalt. This is called the
Nicholson pavement, and is found in New York, Chicago,
and other cities as well as St. Louis. As long as it
lasts, it is as safe, smooth, and noiseless a road as could
be desired. But the depth of soft clay that underlies
many of these cities makes it extremely difficult for
any paving to support the heavy traffic. This probably
is the reason why street railways are so common in
America.
IRON MOUNTAINS. 173
On reaching the city of St. Louis from the south, one
begins to feel the swifter and stronger current of
Northern life, and get again into the everlasting din of
dollars and cents. St. Louis has a population reckoned at
nearly a quarter of a million, and though one of the oldest
centres of civilisation in the west, having been selected
by the French as early as 1764 as a station for the
Indian fur trade, it may be said to be really a product
of the present generation. Its population was only
2000 in 1810; it had risen to 16,000 in 1840; to
70,000 in 1850 ; and is at least 240,000 to-day. It is
therefore one hundred and twenty times bigger than it
was sixty years ago. About one-third of its inhabi
tants are Germans — frugal, industrious citizens, but
mostly rationalistic, and much given to spending their
Sundays in the parks, and drinking lager-beer. The
Irish, who are also numerous, belong chiefly to the
labouring class. The Scotch are few in number, but
prosperous. One of them, who had amassed a large
fortune, was preparing magnificent botanic gardens in
the suburbs for presentation to the city.1
1 Much interest was being excited It was anticipated that if this ex-
in St. Louis at the time I was there periment succeeded, railroad iron,
by experiments that were going on which costs 40 or 50 dollars a ton
in the smelting of iron. So far as from Britain, could be home-made
ore goes, Missouri's wealth is bound- at half that cost — thus taking the
less : so is her supply of coal. But American iron-trade out of the
unfortunately (for her, not for us) hands of this coxintry, and giving it
the coal is so sulphurous that in the to Missouri. It is certainly aggra-
ordinary process of melting the ore vating to the Americans, and espe-
into pigs, and afterwards rolling it cially to the people in that State,
out into bars, the iron is spoilt. The to have to buy British iron when
object of the experiment referred to they have literally mountains of
was the discovery of a method by iron-ore beside them. The famous
which the pigging process could be iron mountains — three in number —
dispensed with, and the iron rolled are within a hundred miles of St.
out into bars from the first melting. Louis. One of them— known as the
174 WESTERN NOTES.
St. Louis is very proud of her public library, and of
her schools. Millions of dollars are devoted to educa
tional purposes, — in school lands, buildings, and current
expenses. No child in the city needs to be without
education. Everything except books is provided free.
There is also a Normal school for preparing teachers ;
but of the two Universities, one is, or was then, at a
stand-still for want of funds. I mention this, because
it is a representative fact. All over the West classical
education is still at a discount. The people have no
time for it ; they say themselves it must wait its turn.
" We air a smart people, sir," said a man from Omaha,
" but we ken't whip creation in everything at once. We
air reclaiming the wilderness just now, and we'll begin
to produce scholars by-and-by."
In the meantime, a man who can reckon up quickly,
raise stock, run a store, and see well round a corner,
commands a higher salary than a man who can construe
a passage in Euripides, but is ignorant of the art of
fleecing either sheep or customers. People are all hasten
ing to make rich while the country offers such facilities
for it. They crowd their children into the schools and
classes that teach the branches demanded for everyday
life, — reading, writing, ciphering, geography, and so on.
But Latin brings no dollars ; Greek is not quoted in the
market ; these, therefore, get the go-by. Even in the
colleges, very few students have the patience to com
plete their course. At Iowa State University only 15
had graduated out of 600 students, being less than
three per cent. At Harvard, Massachusetts, nearly
Pilot Knob— is a mountain of solid shoe) had been made from it with-
ore, with the iron so pure that I out any smelting at all. A great
was told a horse-shoe (worthless, of part of the mountain is 80 per cent,
course, but still a hammered horse- of pure iron.
WANT OF HIGHER SCHOLARSHIP. 175
twenty per cent, graduate, being a six times larger pro
portion. It is the difference between the Old and the
New States.1 Professor Parvin of the Iowa University
mentioned, amongst other cases, that of a promising
student who left before he had got half through his
curriculum. The Professor urged him to remain.
" Why, look here," said the student, unfolding a letter ;
" here's an offer of $1500 a year, and prospects. You
graduated twenty- five years ago, and have only $1400
a year now !"
He said great numbers of the students left in that
way to become telegraphic operators, or teachers, or
insurance agents, or agents for agricultural stores, or
" runners" for Chicago houses, — employments in which
they can make as much money without as with a
degree, and begin to make it sooner.
Of course a more thorough education is demanded
for some purposes. Men have to be reared for the
professions ; and scientific education is needed for the
discovery and development of the material resources
1 In our own Universities the same pleted their curriculum. At Oxford
differences are discernible. Last and Cambridge the great majority
year (Session 1868-69) 39 students of the men graduate, but the annual
took their M. A. degree at Aberdeen, percentage I do not know,
out of 661 attending the Arts classes ; In one point, however, Iowa
at St. Andrews, 9 out of 152 ; at University is ahead of Harvard. It
Edinburgh, 53 out of 661 ; at Glas- opens its classes to female students,
gow, 25 out of 755. In other words, and allows them to graduate, con-
12 per cent, graduated at Aberdeen verting a number of young ladies
(exceptionally high from other cir- every year into "Bachelors of Arts."
cumstances) ; 6 per cent, at St. An- The merit of being first in America
drews ; and 8 per cent, at Edin- to recognise the right of women to
burgh ; while only 3^ per cent. University education belongs to
graduated at Glasgow, which is the Oberlin College, Ohio. For more
commercial capital of Scotland, and than thirty years its classes have
tempts many students away into been open to all competent comers,
active life before they have com- irrespective of colour or sex.
176 WESTERN NOTES.
of the .country. But even in these departments the
demand there is for practical knowledge, and the price
that is paid for it, draw men prematurely into active
life, tempting them away from further study in order
to make the most of the knowledge they have already
attained, and which the country in its present state
cries most for. Hence the anomaly noticeable every
where in the States, but especially in the West —
education so universal, and yet scholarship so rare.
The wonder is, that, in spite of her circumstances,
America should have produced so many men of science,
poets, scholars, and theologians, as she already has.
The general fact, however, is as stated. America lifts
up the whole mass of her population to a higher educa
tional level than ours ; but far fewer, comparatively,
rise above that. The system is one of lateral extension.
Hence, probably, the reason why St. Louis had her
numberless schools, wealthy and flourishing ; but one
of her two colleges closed for want of funds.
Two hundred miles up the river from the great city
of Missouri stands Keokuk, " the Gate City " of Iowa.
Keokuk started in its career with a great flourish of
trumpets, advanced rapidly for a time, and was to have
been another St. Louis. But it began to flag, and for
ten years has been almost at a stand -still, allowing
other cities in the same State to outstrip it, and only
beginning now to resume its progress. Its history has
a meaning which is of some practical value to business
people emigrating from this country. Wherever there
is a field for emigration that becomes popular, cities
start up, and adventurous clerks and shopkeepers flock
thither from the Eastern States, and from this country,
CITIES TOO FAST FOR COUNTRY. 177
in far larger numbers than are needed. Those who
are there first, while everything is rising, and who
are worldly-wise enough to sell out before the reaction
comes, get away with fortunes.
But most of the merely business men who crowd to
these places, and invest in city property, on the sup
position that things are always to go on as they have
begun, are apt to be disappointed. If better centre-
points be found for trade, cities of this kind rapidly
sink into mere trading stations. I have a letter from
a gentleman who was in Missouri at the time of my
visit, who says that last summer he visited a city
called New Philadelphia, which had grown rapidly at
first, and reared not only churches, brick stores, and
market-house, but a college that cost $100,000. In
this city, according to his report, not a living soul is
now to be found — the nearest inhabitant being a
farmer, about quarter of a mile off. Trade has taken
a different direction ; the people have rushed after it ;
the deserted buildings are going to ruin, and the only
students attending the college are the farmer's pigs,
which roam at will through the college grounds, pre
paring to graduate in pork. New Philadelphia, in the
expressive language of America, is, in the meantime,
" played out."
Even cities like Keokuk (more fortunate in their site,
and with a really great future before them), grow at
first with a rapidity so disproportionate to that of the
surrounding country, that, after the first rush of life is
over, they need years to recover from the effects of over
growth, and have often a struggle to keep themselves
alive till the country makes up to them. In North
east Missouri, the business men in eight counties (not
VOL. II. M
178 WESTERN NOTES.
the farmers, whose case was the very reverse) were
classified by a gentleman who had special facilities for
information, and the result stood as follows : — Eighty-
five per cent, of these business men were just making
ends meet ; five per cent, were making money ; and
ten per cent, were going down hill with more or less
velocity.
The ledger of one leading merchant showed that he
began the year with a capital of $8,000 ; that he effected
sales to the amount of $57,800 ; and that he had stock,
etc., on hand to the value of $12,360, with $4,700 of
liabilities. In other words, he had made his living,
and ended the year worth $340 less than at the be
ginning — not much to show for a twelvemonth's labour
and interest on his $8000 of original capital.
Business people would, therefore, do well to think
twice before seeking a home in the setting sun, and, if
they do follow that luminary, let them go prepared for
pretty much the same kind of struggle they have had
here. In Western cities, like St. Louis, there are hun
dreds of applicants for every situation of the kind they
want.
The class of men for whom there is really a demand,
and for whom there are fine prospects all over the West,
is the class of small farmers, and foremen on farms —
men who have saved enough to buy thirty or forty
acres of land, and are able to work it.
Perhaps at present the best-paying business of all,
west of the Mississippi, is stock-raising. Illinois has done
the most of this hitherto, but land there is now becoming
too valuable, and the business is being " crowded" far
ther and farther west. Men who go out far enough to
get land cheap, are finding this business richly remuner-
CIVILISATION. 179
ative ; and as the land, almost everywhere, is steadily
rising in value, the risk is almost nothing.
From Keokuk I struck out westward by Des Moines
to get a glimpse of the country. Iowa is a magnificent
agricultural State, with less waste land than any other
State in the Union. It has an area of 55,000 square
miles, about 30,000 of which consists of far-rolling
prairie land, as bare as the rolling sea. The land lies
ready for the plough, and is quick in its returns to the
good farmer, yielding from forty to eighty bushels of
corn to the acre. I saw one farm in the Des Moines
Valley, owned by an English lad who had worked upon
a farm at home for £20 a year. On going out to Iowa
he bought 160 acres of land at $5 (or £1) an acre, with
money lent him by his uncle. He set to work at once,
was able the first year to pay the whole loan back, and
the next year to save $1300. His farm is valued now
at $5000, or six times its original price.
Land in that Valley was selling at $10 to $25, and
in the western part of the State at $3, in a region which
had just been surveyed for a railway. It is curious, in
these Western States, to find railways run out into
regions where there are no people. Here, when towns
are large enough, a railway is opened between them to
meet the demands of an existing traffic. In these
Western States a railway is run out into the prairie,
people run out with it, and towns and traffic are the
result.
It is also surprising, in regions which are associated
in most people's minds with the Eed Indian and the
buffalo, to light upon handsome towns not unfrequently
ahead of our own in some of the appliances of civilisa-
180 WESTERN NOTES.
tion. Even on the farms that are spread out like little
pocket-handkerchiefs on the prairie, one sees refine
ments that would make some of our farmers open their
eyes. I remember one day, when crossing the prairie
to Iowa city, seeing a man with an umbrella sitting in
what looked like a dog-cart, and driving slowly over a
field. I said to the friend beside me, " That 's a strange
place for a drive?"
" Oh, he 's ploughing ! " he said.
" Ploughing ?"
" Yes, that 's what we call a buggy-plough. It makes
ploughing pleasanter. A woman or -a boy could plough
with it just as well as that man."
I got a nearer inspection of one of these ploughs
afterwards. The shares are fixed beneath the convey
ance, and by means of a handle you can adjust them
so as to regulate the depth of the furrow. When all is
ready, you mount to your cushioned seat, take the
reins, and plough your field without needing to put a
foot to the ground. Some buggy-ploughs are so con
structed to cut four furrows • simultaneously, — thus
doing the work of four men.
In breaking up the prairie land for the first time, a
plough is used similar to our own, and needs three or
even five yoke of oxen to draw it.
In Iowa I saw for the first time a prairie on fire.
The sight was ludicrously different from what it is
generally described to be in sensational romances.
Instead of a vast waving plain, across which an ocean
of devouring flame was sweeping, with herds of frantic
buffaloes flying before it, nothing more alarming was
visible than a little crawling streak of fire like a scarlet
SPORT. 181
thread lying across the nearest undulations, — the
ground before it green, the ground behind it black, as
if a funeral pall had been drawn over it. The edge
of fire was slowly eating its way forward. This was
all. Coleridge maintains that if a man runs to see a
house on fire, he has a perfect right to hiss the fire if
it tamely allows itself to be put out. I felt as if I had
a right to hiss that burning prairie. It was a miserable
exhibition that nobody would give two cents to see
again. It may be different at other seasons and in
other regions where the grass is long and dry, and
where there are woods, already half kindled by the
summer sun. But an Iowa prairie on fire in spring-time
looks as described above. The people set it on fire
themselves to clear the ground, and give it a nice top-
dressing for the new grass. It lets it come up sooner
and makes it sweeter for the cattle. The Indians used
to fire the prairie in the fall, to clear off the long grass
and make it easier to track the game.
The principal sport in Iowa now is duck- shooting.
The ducks have their feeding grounds on the prairie,
and fly at night to the rivers. The quail, looking like
our pheasant, and the prairie chicken — a bird with the
habits of our grouse, but larger — were everywhere
abundant, but are growing scarce ; and being a delicacy
in the Eastern States, are bought up for the New York
restaurants, which have their agents everywhere for the
purpose. That mighty Babylon of America stretches
out its hand even to the western prairies to pick up
delicacies for its epicurean taste.
The beautiful name of Iowa is said to be a word
signifying satisfaction, and to have been given by the
182 WESTEllN NOTES.
red men when they moved across from the eastern side
of the Mississippi. " Iowa ! " — it is enough, here let
us rest, be this our home. Alas ! the poor Indian !
He has not long been allowed to rest. The pale-faces
(the " long-knives," Yenghese or Yankees) with their
railways, street cars, and buggy-ploughs, have " crowded
him out." Thirty years ago, the whole of Iowa, except
a strip along the shore of the Mississippi, was in posses
sion of two confederated tribes of Indians, known as
the Sacs and Foxes. Now, there is hardly an Indian
to be seen, except on the reservations ; and even these
are being bought up one by one, and the Indians
pushed farther and farther back. The Americans say
that you can't civilize the Indian — that there is no use
attempting it ; and it is to be feared that this con
venient induction has made them somewhat unscru
pulous in pushing him off, and appropriating his land.1
But Indian civilisation is not a thing impossible.
Civilized half-castes are plentiful enough ; and the
1 An old Indian, belonging to one over our heads, that broke our
of the nations that were pushed out government all to pieces. They
of Mississippi and Georgia forty took us prisoners for every little
years since, spoke of that event debt, and they made debts in order
with as keen a sense of injustice to take us prisoners. In every way
and wrong as if it had been a thing they rode over us roughshod. We
of yesterday. He said, in detail- appealed to the Great Father at
ing the circumstances: — -"That land Washington. He said, 'I cannot
was ours. But the white people protect yon where you are. But
began to want it for their cotton you have lands west of the Missis-
and their slaves. We said, ' No ; sippi, I will remove you there. '
this is our hunting-ground. The This was what they wanted— to get
bones of our fathers lie here. We us away and take our land. We
will not part with it.' They said held another council. It lasted
they must have it, one way or an- four days. I was a young man
other. We held a council, but it then, but I was one of the council,
broke up ; nothing could be done. We said, ' This land is ours. Let
Then the white people passed laws us live and die here.' The Secre-
THE INDIAN DOOMED. 183
Creeks, Choctaws, and Cherokees, are instances of
whole tribes conforming to the usages of civilized life.
I met a full-blooded Chocktaw in the Indian office
at Washington, who had come on official business from
the Indian country in the west of Arkansas. He was
well educated, well mannered, and dressed exactly like
a white man. In the course of conversation he invited
me to go and see their country when in Arkansas. I
said I should like to go, if he would promise to let me
away with my scalp on.
" Oh," said he, " scalping is played out. We live
now by farming. We have adopted the American
form of Government ; and our chief has become a
Presbyterian minister ! "
It has to be admitted, however, that the Indian is
very slow to tame. He has more judgment to begin
with than the negro ; but shows himself not half so
susceptible of improvement. And before there is time
to civilize Mm, he is likely to be " improved " from the
tary of War was there, and his will go.' It took three years to
mouth was full of promises. But move the nation across the Missis-
we said, ' The Secretary of War sippi. On our way, the cholera
will die ; the Great Father at Wash- took us and swept off our people
ington will die ; and all this will be by thousands. One of our poets
repudiated.' The Secretary had and orators looked back from the
bribed one of our chiefs — a half- Western shore of the Mississippi
white and half-Indian — to sign the and said, ' If there is a God in
treaty ; and as soon as he got it heaven, He will reward the Georgi-
signed he went away ; the traitor ans and the Mississippians for this
also fled, for he knew that we would great wrong!' And he has," con-
kill him. Orders came for us now tinned the Indian, alluding to the
to move. We said, ' No, we have wreck of these States in the late
been betrayed.' Then came General war. "We did not know how it
Scott, with 6000 men, to drive us would be, but it came. God is
off at the point of the bayonet. We just. He has given them the same
fought, but the white man was too cup to drink that they gave to us."
strong for us. Then we said, ( We
184 WESTERN NOTES.
face of the earth. American civilisation is impatient,
and cannot wait for him. People who eat their meals
in four minutes and a half, and push railway lines
across the prairie at the rate of two miles a day, can
not wait a hundred years to give the Indian time to
bury his tomahawk, wash his face, and put on a pair of
trousers.
Civilisation is pushing westward and driving the
Indian farther and farther towards the setting sun.
Even there no land of rest any longer awaits him.
The pale-faces are on the shores of the Pacific ; the
two civilisations are spreading themselves over the
continent towards one another, and have already
shaken hands across the Eocky Mountains. Along the
Indian frontier on both sides there is continual friction
and sporadic warfare, — always with the same result.
The whites are multiplying and advancing ; the
Indians are diminishing and withdrawing. Cholera,
small-pox, and drink are wiping them out even faster
than war. Their passion for drink is something
fearful, — so fearful, that in Canada and some of the
States the sale of liquor to an Indian has had to be
prohibited by special enactments. An Indian will sell
his blanket, his gun, anything he has, for whisky.
And when once he begins to drink, he never knows
when to stop. I was told, however, by a friend in
Keokuk, that he had observed when parties of Indians
came there, enough of them were detailed to keep
sober and take charge of the rest, who thereupon pro
ceeded to drink till they were mad.
People who have lived amongst the Indians have a
very much lower opinion of them than those who have
only made their acquaintance through works of fiction.
INDIAN SENSITIVENESS. 185
A gentleman at Vicksburg, who had been a missionary
amongst them for some years, declared that if you gave
half of your last loaf to an Indian, he would steal the
other half two minutes after if he got the chance. But
that if you helped an Indian in distress he would
generally do as much or more for you in like circum
stances.
The engineer of one of the lake steamers in Western
Canada gave me the following pleasing fact from his
own experience : — " One day I met a wild Indian in
the woods very downcast. The nipple of his fowling-
piece had broken. He was far from his people, and,
without his gun, he had 110 means of providing for
himself. I screwed the nipple out of mine, found that
it fitted exactly ; and, as I had others aboard the
steamer, I let him have it. He thanked me and went
off into the woods. Next morning, before the steamer
started, he came on board with some very fine game for
me ; and he has never let a season pass since without
paddling down in his canoe, sometime during our
running season, with some little present of game or
fish to show that he has not forgotten what I did for
him."
Indians are said to remember injuries much longer
than kindness, and have probably got more of them to
remember.
They are proud also and very easily offended. I
remember, while lounging with a friend at the door of
a hotel, an Indian woman made her appearance with a
basket of native bead-work for sale. The gentleman
beside me, without waiting to see what she had, waved
her off. The woman stopped, and with a look of
magnificent scorn turned away. I was sorry that she
186 WESTERN NOTES.
had been hurt, and called on her to come back and
show us what she had, but she deigned no response.
An Indian cannot be bargained with like another
man. If you want him to carry you across a river, he
will shove off in his canoe till an arrangement is made
that pleases him ; and if, in trying to make an arrange
ment, you offend him, he will paddle stoically away,
and no entreaties or promises even of whisky and
tobacco (the two things that tempt an Indian most)
will bring him back, or so much as make him seem to
be any longer conscious of your presence.
You can very rarely engage Indians for money to be
guides or servants. They will go with you as com
panions, and will not refuse the money given them ;
but if you do or say anything to offend their pride, and
make them think they are regarded as menials, they
will leave without a word, and without the slightest
regard to the difficulties of your position. If you ask
them to clean your boots, they will decline without
any indication of being offended, but in the morning
you find them gone. But this trait, as we have seen
elsewhere, is to be found amongst others in America as
well as amongst the Indians.
Professor Bell of Kingston, in Canada, who has seen
much of the Indians in the course of his geological
surveys in the North-west and on the islands of Lake
Huron, gave me an amusing incident illustrative of
another feature of their character allied to the fore
going, namely, their extreme sensitiveness to ridicule,
— which, however, in this case, defeated its own end.
The photographer, accompanying the party, was anxious
to get some Indian groups. Near one village, where he
erected his camera, the Indians, always curious, began
A QUEEK PHOTOGEAPH. 187
to gather round in great numbers. The photographer
tried to get a group of them arranged in front ; but as
often as they saw him put his head under the black
cloth and begin to adjust the focus, they drew aside out
of range, thinking that it was some new kind of gun
which he was about to discharge. When one of the
chiefs appeared on the ground the photographer told
him what he wanted, and, in order to satisfy him, gave
him a look through the camera. The picture floating
on the glass delighted the chief, but he noticed that
everything was upside down. This amused him at first,
till it occurred to him that the white man wanted to
take the Indians in this way, to make them look
ridiculous. However, he told his people that there was
no powder in the thing, and explained what he had
seen. The photographer then prepared to take the pic
ture ; but what was his surprise, on adjusting his focus,
to see the Indians beginning to stand on their heads,
evidently delighted that they had discovered how to
baffle the white man, and be taken right end up. The
photographer told the chief it was quite impossible to
take them with their legs waving in the air in that
style. They were therefore persuaded to sit on the
grass, but insisted on holding their legs up as high as
they could, in which position they were taken.
The chief himself was afterwards taken at his own
request, standing on his head, with two Indians holding
his legs to steady him. I have beside me a copy of
this extraordinary photograph, which the Professor gave
me as a curiosity.
Such Indians as I met in Canada spoke in a far more
friendly way of the British than those in the West spoke
of the Americans. It is pleasant to think, as it seems
188 WESTERN NOTES.
everywhere admitted, that we have managed to keep on
better terms with the Indians than the States have done.
But whatever credit is due to us for this, a very im
portant difference in the 'situation ought not to be over
looked. The greater portion of British America, peopled
by the Indians, is a region unattractive to emigrants,
and specially valuable for its furs. The Indians, there
fore, are not much in our way, and we need them to
hunt for us and supply our markets ; whereas, in the
Western States, the Indians lie across the path of civili
sation, and what America wants is their land — a want
involving her in negotiations of much greater difficulty.
THE LIGHTNING CITY. 189
XIII.
THE LIGHTNING CITY.
EETUENING from the West by the southern shores of
Lake Michigan and Lake Erie, I spent a few days in
Chicago — pronounced " Shikahgo." The growth of this
city is one of the most amazing things in the history
of modern civilisation. Forty years ago, the Indians
roamed over the districts which are now covered with
busy streets. As recently as 1830, the commercial
strength of the place, then a mere Government out
post, consisted of 4 tavern-keepers, 1 merchant, 1
butcher, and 4 Indian traders, who carried on their
business in log-huts. Chicago now has 300,000 of a
population — has streets seven or eight miles long — has
street railways traversing the city in all directions,
carrying annually 7,000,000 passengers. The log-huts
have made way for magnificent warehouses and palaces
of marble ; the little traders have become great mer
chants, some of them worth millions of dollars, and doing
business on a scale of extraordinary magnitude. Far-
well, who began as a poor clerk, is worth $2,000,000,
and does dry-goods business to the amount of $8,000,000
a year. Field, Leiter, and Co.'s sales amount annually
to $12,000,000, and have sometimes reached $80,000
in a single day.1
1 In New York, A. T. Stewart's and Claffin's $36,000,000. These, I
sales for the year amount to double, suppose, are the biggest dry-goods
and Claffin's to treble, that sum, — A. businesses in America.
T. Stewart's reaching $25,000,000
190 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
The progress of Chicago in the grain and lumber
trade has been even more amazing, and has already
made her the greatest grain and lumber-market in
the world. In 1831, three vessels were all that she
attracted during the year. Now, 9000 vessels and
propellers swarm annually to her port ; and her lake
tonnage has reached the enormous figure of two and a
quarter millions of tons in clearances alone. In 1838,
she made her first shipment of wheat, amounting to
only 78 bushels ; the year I was there she had shipped
66,000,000 bushels of flour and grain of all kinds, while
her receipts in lumber amounted to 730,000,000 feet,
riot counting 124,000,000 pieces of lath, and 400,000,000
shingles. This trade was largely in excess of preceding
years, and was advancing in the same proportion. The
railway across the Eocky Mountains, which places
her now on the great highway between the Atlantic
and Pacific, is likely still more to accelerate her
progress.
It was early morning when I entered Chicago from
the Rocky Island road, and the great city was just
wakening into life for the day. The first thing that
attracted my attention when driving from the station
to one of the hotels, was the sight of a two-storey house
moving up the street before us. I pointed it out in
amazement to the driver.
" Did you never see a house moving before ? " said he
unconcernedly.
" No. Do your houses move about like that ? "
" Wall," he said, " there 's always some of them on
the move."
Which turned out to be the fact. Never a day
passed during my stay in the city that I did not meet
LIFTING GRANITE BUILDINGS. 191
one or more houses shifting their quarters. One day I
met nine. Going out Great Madison Street in the
horse-cars we had to stop twice to let houses get across.
All these were frame houses, and in some of them I
could see the people sitting at the windows. One of
those crossing Madison Street was a double shop —
cigars at one end, confectionery at the other, and as it
moved along the shopkeeper stood leaning against the
door-post smoking a cigar. The way in which these
houses are moved is this : — After being screwed up to
let a platform with wheels or rollers be placed under
neath, they are drawn along by means of a windlass,
fixed on the street at some distance ahead, and turned
by a horse. When the house has been drawn near
the windlass, this machine is shifted forward, fixed,
and set in motion again.
But it is not only frame houses that are moved.
Great blocks of masonry in some parts of the city have
been lifted up from four to fourteen feet. The Brigg's
House, a gigantic hotel, five storeys high, solid masonry,
weighing 22,000 tons, was raised four and a half feet,
and new foundations built in below. The people were
in it all the time, coming and going, eating and sleep
ing — the whole business of the hotel proceeding without
interruption. The Tremont House, another large hotel,
was lifted in the same way. The work was done
so smoothly and so gradually, by 500 or 600 men
working in covered trenches below, that Mr. Beecher,
who was a guest in the hotel at the time, said the
only personal knowledge he had of the hotel being in
process of elevation, was derived from the fact that the
broad flight of stairs from the street seemed to be get
ting steeper, and that the lower windows, which were
192 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
on a level with his face when he arrived, were three or
four feet higher when he went away.
The process of lifting these blocks is ingenious, and
yet simple enough. The foundations are laid bare, and
the trenches, if necessary, concealed by awnings. Logs
are laid along the foundations, inside and out ; holes
cut at short intervals, and transverse logs passed through,
with jackscrews beneath. This being done all round,
several hundreds of workmen flood the trenches
within and without, put their levers in the jackscrews,
and at a given signal turn all the screws simultane
ously, gradually pressing the transverse logs up, till the
building rests upon them. As the screwing goes on,
the whole mass of masonry moves up hairbreadth by
hairbreadth. New logs are continually inserted as
the space admits of it; and so the building rises in
the air day by day till it stands on this log-founda
tion at an elevation five, ten, or fifteen feet higher
than it did at first. In the meantime, the new stone
foundation is being built in the interstices, and is
ready, when the building has been screwed up to
the height desired, to receive its weight on the
slackening of the screws. The log-foundation is
then, bit by bit, drawn out, and stone substituted;
so that, by the time the wood is entirely removed,
the building stands on its new stone foundation as
on a rock, without a joint dislocated, or its stone,
plaster, or furniture disturbed.
The stone foundation is generally in the form of an
under-storey. Sometimes a dwelling-house is lifted,
and shops put in below. I was told of a congregation
in the city which, being in want of money, had their
church lifted so as to allow of the insertion of shops
I
THE REASON WHY. 193
below, got these let, and speedily relieved the church
from its embarrassments.
In other cases large blocks of building — warehouses
and the like — have not only been lifted, but moved
back to widen the street. The process in that case is
the same, except that the log-foundation is made more
in the form of a sliding platform, — like that from which
a ship is launched, but of course with the incline less,
and the motion so gradual as to be imperceptible ex
cept from day to day.
The reason for all this house-lifting in Chicago is
that the city was found to be on too low a level, expos
ing it to inundation from the inland ocean, along whose
flat shore it lies, and also making proper drainage im
possible. The people had therefore to choose between
three things — (1.) to submit to these inconveniences,
which must yearly become more disastrous, or (2.) to
pull down their city, raise the level, and rebuild,
or (3.) to contrive machinery that would lift the city,
and let the new level be drawn underneath. The last
expedient was adopted, and ever since then the city has
been in process of elevation. The machinery thus
called into existence makes house-moving so easy that
the Chicago people think nothing of it. If a man with
his frame-house and cigar-shop at one corner finds
business dull, he moves house and all away to some
other street, where he thinks it will be brisker. The
reason, however, why so many frame-houses are con
tinually on the move at present, is, that the ground is
wanted for stone-buildings and warehouses ; and it is
found cheaper to move the wooden houses away to the
suburbs than to pull them down and have to re-erect them.
House- moving is occasionally to be seen in other
VOL. II. N
194 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
parts of America ; but Chicago, owing to its circum
stances, has been the great nursery-ground and arena
for it. Even there it will become less common by-and-
by, as the city is now for the most part graded, and
new houses are built on the new level. But house-
moving is only one of the wonders of that great city.
Her elevators amazed me almost as much. They also
are the product of ingenuity taxed by new circum
stances. The amount of grain that has to be taken up
and re- shipped at Chicago made the ordinary method of
lading and unlading cars and ships too slow. Accord
ingly, gigantic buildings were erected along the wharves,
provided with machinery that plunges its hands down
into the ships and barges that come alongside, and
empties them with a rapidity otherwise unattainable.
I went one day to see the elevators at work in one
of Armour, Dole, and Co.'s granaries, — a stupendous
building, 110 feet high, presenting the appearance of a
mountain boxed up for transit. The interior, on the
ground-floor, was like a railway terminus, with trains
running in and out. We had to ascend what seemed a
mile of stairs, through storey after storey, to get to the
top, where, in what might be called the attics of the
building, the huge machinery was working. The next
flat below the machinery was the one to which the
grain was lifted by the elevators, to be weighed and
shot into the store, or down into railway cars or ships.
From this storey, when a ship comes alongside the
granary, an elevator, working on the principle of our
river- dredging machines, but with the buckets small
and touched with Chicago lightning, is sent down into
her hold; and instantly, on steam being turned on,
begins clutching the grain with its myriad hands, and
THE LIGHTNING STYLE APPLIED TO PIGS. 195
flying up with, it to the top of the granary, pouring into
a huge vat or " scale-hopper." This receptable holds
500 bushels at a time, and immediately on receiving
that weight opens below, discharging the 500 bushels
into the granary, and instantly closes again to receive
more. In this way the grain weighs itself on its
passage from the ship to the store, — machinery lifting
it, machinery weighing it, and machinery storing it.
When the grain is not to be stored, but transferred
from ships to railway cars, the cars enter the building,
and the ship comes alongside. The elevator stretches
down into the ship's hold and runs the grain up into
the scale-hopper, which, instead of emptying it into the
store, discharges it into a spout, which shoots it down
into the cars. In this way, with incredible rapidity,
train after train is loaded and sent off.
In that granary there were ten elevators, each capable
of running up 4000 bushels an hour — the ten being
thus able to gather up and store the grain at the rate
of 40,000 bushels an hour, if all working at once.
There were 100,000 bushels stored in the bins at the
time of my visit, and capacity for 700,000 more. A
new granary was being built by the same firm close
beside the one described, and was almost ready to begin
work. It was on a still more gigantic scale — being
provided with fifteen elevators, ten for receiving and five
for shipping — and being capacious enough to hold a
million and a quarter bushels.
Chicago is famous also for her application of steam-
power in the conversion of pigs into pork. She has so
many hundreds of thousands to slaughter every year
that she has no time to kill and cure them in the old
fashion. She requires capacious buildings, divided into
196 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
different storeys and compartments, in each of which
the hogs are passed through a different process. At any
of these establishments you may see, almost incessantly
at the busy season, a stream of pigs pouring in along a
gangway, little imagining what awaits them. Every
pig the instant it gets within the building receives a
stunning blow ; is clutched by the snout ; stuck ; run
by machinery up to the top of the building ; plunged
into a long tank of hot water ; shot from hand to hand
and scraped ; hooked up and run on by machinery,
ripped down, cut into parts, dressed and salted, and all
this with such rapidity that within twelve minutes from
the time when it was an intelligent pig on the gangway,
it is converted into pork, packed in barrels, and ready
for shipment. They tell about an ingenious Yankee
inventing a machine, which was warranted, when wound
up and set in motion, to chase a pig over a ten-acre lot,
chop him into sausages, work his bristles into shoe-
brushes, and manufacture his tail into a cork-screw.
That machine I am not prepared to vouch for ; but the
machinery in those pig-killing establishments in Chicago
any one visiting the city at the killing season can see
at work for himself. The number of pigs killed in
some of them is almost fabulous. One of the two I
saw kills 70,000 pigs per annum, besides myriads of
sheep, which, during the busy season in autumn, are
slaughtered at the rate of 2000 a day. In that single
year there were killed and packed in Chicago 2G,000
cattle and 670,000 hogs, reaching about four times
the weight of her population. Cincinnati was long
known as the Porkopolis, or head-centre of pig-killing
in the West ; but Chicago drew a-head about six years
ago, and seems likely to distance all competitors.
GREENBACK CHRISTIANITY. 197
Chicago is almost as great a city for worldliness and
wickedness as for trade. What she does she does with
all her might. Her good people are very good, her bad
people are very bad. Everything works at high pres
sure. The first thing that strikes a stranger is the
universal rush for wealth. Chicago is a young New
York. The deep-mouthed roar of the Empire City
becomes a Babel of shrill voices in the West, but the
universal cry is the same — " Dollars and cents, dollars
and cents ! " You hear it in the street, you hear it in
the market, you hear it in the store, you hear it in the
cars, you hear it in the house. People run about say
ing that Smith has made $10,000 by that transaction :
that grain is up, and that Brown is hauling in millions.
If you ask whose church that is, your friend tells you,
and adds that it cost $30,000. If you refer to a mar
riage, you are told that it is a fine match — that the
man is worth half-a-million. Your companions at the
boarding-house table talk excitedly of the immense
sales being effected by Clutch and Cut. The young
lady who goes with you to the evening lecture looks
pensive, and when you ask her the reason, raises her
sad eyes to heaven, heaves a sigh, and tells you that
P.RR stock is down 2^ per cent. Dollars and cents !
it is the voice of prayer in the morning ; it is the voice
of thanksgiving at night. There seems no God but
gold, and cent per cent is his profit.
In this scramble for money, principle is too often run
to the wall, knocked over and trampled under foot.
Respectability is gauged by dollars, so even is Chris
tianity. What a godly congregation that must be
which builds its church of jolliette marble, salaries its
minister at $5000 a year, draws $10 a piece for the
198
THE LIGHTNING CITY.
back-seats, and has nobody in it worth less than $2000 I1
If a man makes money, it seems to matter little how
he makes it. Even in the case of a downright swindle,
the criminal, in public estimation, seems to be the man
who has allowed himself to be swindled. The other
man may be called a great rogue, but is admired for his
smartness, and when a keen stroke of business has to be
done, people say, " Go to him, sir ; one of the smartest
men in the country, sir."
Chicago, in this respect, is only a reflex of New York,
and both of them are only strongly coloured pictures
of the commercial world of America.
Chicago is notorious also for its fast life and its im
morality. One of its own citizens said, " It is a second
Corinth." 2 One surface evidence of what goes on
1 When Dr. Ormiston of Hamil
ton, one of the most eloquent
ministers in America, was called to
Chicago, he said,— " Double the area
of your church and let the poor in
free, and I will come." But that
was too vulgar a Christianity for
El Dorado.
2 There is one form of vice, almost
unknown in this country, so preva
lent in Chicago— so prevalent indeed
in certain circles of society all over
the North— that it is difficult to
avoid allusion to it, though I would
fain keep it out of the text. I
mean the practice among women of
resorting to medical aid to avoid
the trials and responsibilities of
maternity. It is impossible for
any one to travel in the States
without becoming aware of the
frightful prevalence of this prac
tice. The papers swarm with ad
vertisements of the requisite medi
cines ; and books and pamphlets
giving instruction in this diabolical
art are openly advertised and sold.
The almost total absence of chil
dren within the circles referred to
cannot possibly escape notice ; and
if you remark it privately to any
one the same explanation is invari
ably given. A medical man in one
of the large cities of the North
enumerated thirty practitioners in
that one city who, to his own
knowledge, devoted themselves to
this species.of murder. In all these
cities there are establishments called
by such names as "Invalids' Ke-
treats," but well enough known to
be reserved almost exclusively for
cases of this description. One of
the most magnificent houses in
Fifth Avenue, New York, is a place
of this kind. You see on a side-
door a silver plate marked " Office,"
and ladies are not ashamed to drive
DIVOECES.
199
beneath is tlie commonness of divorce. The marriage-
tie seems more easily dissolved in that State of Illinois
than a business partnership. Some of the lawyers bid
for such cases. I noticed one advertisement by a
Chicago law-firm, stating that it had already obtained
upwards of 300 divorces, and charged nothing except
when a decree was obtained. In order to satisfy the
law, the practice is for one of the parties, say the wife,
to get a bill drawn up claiming divorce on the ground
of her husband's drunken habits, incompatibility of
temper, etc. If the husband is willing that the divorce
should be effected, he simply "confesses" the bill —
up to it in their carriages. The
practice is not confined to those
who wish to hide their sin ; it is re
sorted to by tens of thousands of
married ladies to prevent interrup
tions in a life of gaiety, and to escape
the trouble of bringing up a family,
— no doubt a greater difficulty in
America than here. This vice has
extended itself so widely, and is
producing, in co-operation with
other causes, such disastrous re
sults—in some places absolutely
stopping the increase of the native
American population — that medical
men and ministers of the gospel
have had to issue earnest appeals
on the subject. One of the most
eminent clergymen in New England
recently published a volume, en
titled The Serpent in the Dove's
Nest, in which, as his vindication
for dealing with a subject so repul
sive to him, he declares his belief
that scarcely a woman in America
will read that book who does not
know some one in the circle of her
friends who is practising this ini
quity. What foreigner would ven
ture to make a charge so fearfully
comprehensive as that ? This state
of things not only lowers the moral
tone of society, but makes it look
with less horror than lit ought on
the crime of infanticide. A case
exceptional, but still frightfully
significant in some respects, occurred
in Chicago the winter before last.
In a boarding-house in the city, the
landlady one morning heard the
crying of a baby in the room occu
pied by two of her married boarders.
When the husband went out, the
landlady went in to see the infant,
and ask if she could do anything
for it. She saw the baby lying on
the quilt dead. The mother said
that its father had killed it. In
the evening the father returned,
wrapt the dead infant in a news
paper, and threw it over the bridge.
The matter was talked about, there
was a preliminary examination be
fore a magistrate, but the case
dropped and nothing more was
done.
200 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
whether there be any truth in it or not — whereupon
the decree is granted, the two are divorced, and the
husband can marry another woman, and the wife another
man, the hour after if they please. One lady, well
known in Chicago, was living with her eighth husband,
most if not all the others being still alive. I am happy
to add that this was not considered respectable even in
Chicago.
Another case which excited talk, merely on account
of its oddity, was that of a doctor and his wife living in
Wabash Avenue (the Belgravia of Chicago), who fell out
with one another. The lady get a bill of divorce and
served it on her husband, who, consenting to separa
tion, confessed the bill. Thereupon the lady married a
gentleman whom they had in the house as a boarder.
The doctor did not leave the house, but merely changed
into the boarder's room and became the boarder, wrhile
the boarder took the doctor's place and became the hus
band — all three living under the same roof as before.
A still more extraordinary case occurred in the same
city in 1865: — A sewing girl had married a soldier,
who did not return in the same train with the rest of
the Chicago troops at the close of the war. Thereupon
this girl got a bill of divorce, wishing, as the saying is,
" to take up with another man." Her husband returned
in a day or two and passed the night with her. Next
day she served the bill upon him ; he (probably wishing
to " take up" with some other woman) " confessed" the
bill, and the decree was got. Thereupon the girl and
her mother, accompanied both by the husband that was
and by the husband that was to be, went to the magis
trate's office and got the new marriage effected. They all
dined merrily together ; after which the mother-in-law
NUMBER OF DIVORCES. 201
and the happy pair accompanied the divorced husband
to the railway station to see him off to his home ! As
Miss Edgeworth used to say, when a story was very
hard to swallow, " This is a fact." But such cases ought
never to be told without this appendix, that they are
only found amongst a class of people who live unsettled
lives, and are not considered respectable. Still divorces
are common amongst other classes, and public morality
is undoubtedly tainted with this deep " heresy of life/'
In 1865, the number of divorces applied for in
Chicago was 275, of which 274 were granted. In 1866
there were 327 applied for, and 209 granted. In 1867
there were 311 applied for, being about five per cent, of
the marriages ; that is, for every twenty marriages there
was one divorce. I referred formerly to the greater
sacredness of the marriage-tie in the South. While the
single city of Chicago in one year granted 274 divorces,
and the State of Connecticut decreed 1316 in the five
years ending May 1, 1865, South Carolina has never
granted a divorce at all since the organization of her
State government in 1776.1
1 Last year advantage was taken of his views, or persons determined
of Mr. Beecher's performance of to misrepresent them. Probably no
the marriage ceremony between Mr. man in America has done more than
Richardson and Mrs. M'Farland in he has to uphold the sacredness of
New York, to charge him with loose marriage ; and his views on the sub-
views on the subject of divorce. Mr. ject are far more rigid than those
Beecher's real fault in that case commonly held. In a recent article
seems to have been, that he allowed on "The Christian Law of Mar-
himself to be led by a chivalrous riage," published in his own paper
feeling, and by over-confidence in (The Christian Union), he says, —
his friends, to act on insufficient " We learn in Mark that, after
evidence. But the charge brought Christ had answered the Pharisees,
against him, of indorsing wliat he his disciples asked him again of
himself calls " the pernicious heresy the same matter in the house. And
of free love," could only have been then he thus reversed the positions
made by persons utterly ignorant of the two actors : ' If a woman
202 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
But if Chicago draws to a head some of the worst
vices that pervade American society, she develops the
antidote with almost equal rapidity, and has already a
powerful Christian element labouring with untiring
zeal to evangelize the masses, and elevate the moral
tone of society.
The growth of her churches, charities, and Sunday-
schools, is almost as astonishing as the increase of her
trade. Thirty- six years ago, there was only one build
ing in Chicago for religious purposes, — a little wooden
chapel erected by a handful of Methodists in 1834, and
brought across the river on screws — being the first case
of house- moving in the city which has since achieved
such wonders in that department. Now there are 130
churches, erected and supported by voluntary contribu
tions, valued at $8,000,000, and attended every Sunday
by over 100,000 people; while 40,000 children are
being taught in their Sunday- schools. Charities are
shall put away her husband, and be do it of their own choice, not by
married to another, SHE COMMITTETH legal compulsion. The separations
ADULTERY.' which the courts grant are, there-
" We do not believe that this fore, allowable. But they should
means that a woman has no right not (indeed they cannot) annul the
to ask society to step between her marriage of the two persons. Neither
and her husband if his conduct is is free to marry again while the other
unbearable. This is another thing is living. Separation is one thing,
from being discontented with her divorce is another. This, as we un-
marriage relation because she wants derstand it, is the Christian law of
to marry another man. Her hus- marriage."
band may be so cruel that her life He holds that, for no other cause
is embittered, or even in danger. but that of adultery, is a woman
He may be such a profligate that free to marry again. And he says,
she cannot believe that it is her that it was only on the assurance
duty to live in his company. He given him that this cause existed in
may be such a spendthrift that she the case, of MTarland, that he con-
is deprived of the necessaries of life sented to perform the marriage cere-
for herself and her children. Some mony between the divorced wife and
women have carried such crosses to Mr. Richardson,
the gate of heaven. But they should
CHRISTIAN EFFORT IN THE LIGHTNING STYLE. 203
also numerous, and generally well-supported. There
are several hospitals, a Soldiers' Home, a (fresh-water)
Sailors' Home, a Home for the Friendless, two Orphan
Asylums, a Nursery and Half- Orphan Asylum, an
Erring Woman's Refuge, an Old Ladies' Home, Ee-
form and Industrial Schools, and a voluntary City
Belief Society that looks after the destitute. There is
also a Young Men's Christian Association — one of the
finest and most active I have seen anywhere. Of its
1400 members, more than 500 were occupying them
selves more or less in Christian work ; 8000 families
were being visited monthly, 400,000 bibles, tracts,
papers, and books of various kinds, were distributed
that year, and situations were found for 3300 persons
out of work. It had also built a magnificent hall, at a
cost of $200,000, with handsome library, lecture-rooms,
amusement-rooms, reading-rooms, etc., where young
men could at any time spend an enjoyable and profit
able evening.
Every great city in America can show similar, and
some of them even greater, evidence of Christian
activity. But the wonder in Chicago is that these
agencies for good should have developed with such
rapidity, and in the midst of such a scramble for gold,
and such temptations to vice. Christianity in such a
city becomes fast like everything else. When the
costly hall of the Young Men's Christian Association
went on fire in 1867, the secretary and other officials,
as soon as they found that the building was doomed,
ran about amongst the Christian merchants in the city
for subscriptions. " Our hall is burning, sir ; the
engines are at work, but there is no hope. We shall
want a new one. Let us have money enough to begin
204 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
at once." Thousands upon thousands of dollars were
subscribed without a moment's hesitation ; and it is
said that before the fire was out money enough had
been raised to build a new hall in a style of even
greater magnificence than the first. This is only a
specimen of the lightning Christianity of Chicago.
The man who may be called par excellence the Light
ning Christian of the city, is Mr. Moodie, the secretary
of the association referred to, and a man whose name
is a household word in connection with missionary
work. I went to one of his mission-schools, and have
rarely beheld such a scene of high-pressure evangeliza
tion. It made me think irresistibly of those breathing
steam-boats on the Mississippi, that must either go
fast or burst. Mr. Moodie himself effervesced about
the school the whole time, seeing that everybody was
at work, throwing in a word where he thought it neces
sary, and inspiring every one with his own enthusiasm.
As soon as the classes had been going on for the
specified number of minutes, he mounted the platform,
rang a bell, and addressed the children. He is a keen,
dark-eyed man, with a somewhat squeaky voice, but
with thorough earnestness of manner and delivery.
His remarks were few but pointed, and full of interro
gation, keeping the children on their mettle. It is one
of his first principles never, in any of the exercises, in
schools or meetings, to allow the interest or attention
of the audience to flag for an instant. At a great
religious convention held at Chicago, to which 500
delegates came from all parts of the country, he got a
resolution passed that no one was to be allowed more
than three minutes for his speech. The result was
that an immense number got an opportunity of speak-
THREE-MINUTE SPEECHES.
205
ing, and an admirable check was put on the American
tendency to copious and flowery oratory. Every man
had to dash in medias res at once, say what he had to
say without loss of words, and leave out all minor
points to get time for the points of most importance.1
1 Here are a few specimens of the
three-minute speeches on the ques
tions of " How to reach the poor,
and how to make religious services
more effective : "-
MK. HOODIE'S SPEECH.
" We don't make our services in
teresting enough so as to get uncon
verted people to come. We don't
expect them to come — would be
mortified if they did. To make
them interesting and profitable, ask
the question — How shall we make
them more interesting ? and then
ask some man that never takes a
part how he would do it. You will
wake him up. If you can't talk,
read a verse of Scripture, and let
God speak. Bring up the question
— What more can we do in our dis
trict ? Get those who never do any
thing to say what they think ought
to be done, and then ask them if
they are doing it. Don't get in a
rut. I abominate ruts. Perhaps I
dread them too much, but there is
nothing I fear more."
KEV. MR. WYNN'S SPEECH.
" You must preach truth as
though it were truth. We must
throw aside our manuscripts. The
gift at Pentecost was a gift of
tongues and not of pens. I heard
of a man once who was asked by
his wife to scold the hired girl. He
said he would write out a scold.
(Laughter.) He wrote it out, and
the wife read it, but it did not pro
duce any perceptible effect. She
threw aside the manuscript, and
went at it in the good old-fashioned
way. And then the cook began to
think she meant something. In the
pulpit we ought to take heed of the
example of our political brethren.
What effect would a political speech
have if it were read ? "
ME. WM. KEYNOLD'S SPEECH.
"No one can deny that churches
are losing favour with the masses.
That which convinced John that
Christ had come was that to the
poor the Gospel was preached.
Where is this done now ? We are
troubled with a respectable Chris
tianity. We have our houses of
worship made into houses of mer
chandise. A seat in God's house
is a matter of bargain and sale. If
Christ were here again upon earth,
I think that He would take the
same instrument that He once used,
and again clear out His house.
(Laughter. ) WL en I was in Europe,
where caste is acknowledged, yet I
saw that the rich and poor, titled
and untitled, were alike equal after
they entered the sanctuary. It
ought to be so here. It is said that
the expenses of a church can be
raised in no other way than by pew-
rents. I belonged to a clrurch in
Peoria that could by pew-renting
barely raise $1600. I now belong
to a mission where we have free
seats, and raise that amount easily,
and we do it by each one paying
50 cents a week. It isn't hard to
pay that amount. We fail to reach
the poor on account of dress. We
dress as if the church was a place to
display the latest fashions and styles
of bonnets. Our ministers too are
getting ambitious, and have a hank
ering after city churches, and are
unwilling to preach in poor churches.
The reason why we do not reach
206 THE LIGHTNING CITY.
Though earnest in his piety, and full of religious talk,
Mr. Moodie has no patience with mere cant, and wants
everybody to prove his sincerity by his acts. At one
meeting on behalf of a struggling charity, a wealthy
layman, loud in his religious professions, offered up a
prayer that the Lord would move the hearts of the
people to contribute the aid required. Mr. Moodie
rose and said that what the charity wanted was only
$2000, and that he considered it absurd for a man worth
half-a-million to get up and ask the Lord to do any
thing in the matter when he could himself with a mere
stroke of his pen do all that was needed and ten times
more, and never feel the difference.
The first thing Mr. Moodie does with those whom
he succeeds in bringing under Christian influences is
to turn them to account in pushing on the work. No
place is too bad, no class too hardened to be despaired
of. He sometimes takes a choir of well-trained chil
dren with him to the low drinking-saloons to help him
in wooing the drunkards and gamblers away to the
meetings. On one such occasion which was described
to me, he entered one of these dens with his choir,
and said, — "Have a song, gentlemen?" No objec
tion was offered, and the children sang a patriotic song
in fine style, eliciting great applause. Mr. Moodie
then started them with a hymn, and went round,
while they sang, distributing tracts. When the hymn
the poor is that the poor are not ing the services came down from the
welcome." pulpit, politely offered, her his arm,
T> T»T iTir ) a an(i gave her a seat in his own pew.
REV. MR. WINES' SPEECH. (Applause.) People were not al-
"A poor but respectably dressed lowed to stand in the aisles after
and feeble old woman went into a that." (Laughter.)
city church. She walked up the Cries of " Name the man."
aisle, and no one gave her a seat. Mr. Wines, " Kev. Dr. Tyng."
The pastor saw her, and interrupt- (Loud applause.)
HOW SCHOOLS HAVE MULTIPLIED. 207
.
was over, he said, — "We shall now have a word of
prayer !"
" No, no !" cried several in alarm, "no prayer here !"
" Oh yes, we'll have a word. Quiet for one moment,
gentlemen ;" and he offered up a few earnest petitions.
Some of the men were touched, and when he invited
them to go with him to his meeting and hear more,
about half of them rose and went. It is believed that
if Pandemonium were accessible, Mr. Moodie would
have a mission started there within a week.
There are now thirty-six mission schools under the
Sunday- School Union, attended by 6500 poor children
and persons reclaimed from vice.
Chicago has also developed her educational system
with amazing rapidity. There are plenty of people in
Cook County able to remember the time when the only
school in Chicago was kept in a log- hut, meant for a
bakehouse, and was attended by seven children, who
were taught by a discharged soldier of the name of
William Cox. Now the city has 373 public school
rooms, with 400 teachers and 30,000 pupils enrolled,
maintained at a cost of 650,000 dollars annually. It
has also private schools with 18,000 pupils in attend
ance ; a university, a law- school, two business colleges,
and three theological seminaries. This is quick work
for a city not forty years of age !
208 ANNA DICKINSON.
XIV.
ANNA DICKINSON.
BOTH in the West and in the East, I had the oppor
tunity of hearing Miss Anna E. Dickinson, one of the
women who became celebrated during the war, and who
still is (as a public lecturer) one of the best known in
the United States. The history of this young lady is
something of a romance, though the romance is not of
the kind most common with her sex.
When the war broke out in 1861, a young Quaker girl,
employed in the Mint at Philadelphia, was dismissed
by the Democratic Board of Directors, because, at a
young ladies' meeting, she had dared to blaspheme the
sacred name of General George B. M'Clellan. Little
did the directors imagine with what vehemence the
Quaker girl was to make vengeance recoil on the poli
tical party in whose interests she had been dismissed.
Partly out of strong sympathy with the Eepublican (and
especially the Abolition) party, and partly to support
herself and others dependent upon her, she began to
deliver public lectures, urging the North to strike at
slavery as an evil in itself, and as the cause and strength
of the rebellion. The beauty and oratorical power of
the girl excited interest, but brought her little sub
stantial benefit, and the winter of 1862 found her at
Concord (the city of Ralph Waldo Emerson), in cornpa-
ANNA DICKINSON. 209
rative poverty, delivering, for ten dollars, the last lec
ture for which she was engaged for the season.
That lecture, full of pathos and stormful eloquence,
turned the tide of her fortunes. The State election was
pending, and the military reverses of the North had
damaged the hopes of the Eepublican party. The Se
cretary of the Central Committee heard Anna Dickinson
deliver her lecture, and was so impressed with its power
that he said to his coadjutors, " If we could get that girl
to deliver this lecture round the State, we might carry
the Republican ticket yet." The experiment was thought
worth making. Miss Dickinson was engaged, and the
campaign arranged for. Others of the party were not so
sanguine. The candidate for one district wrote indig
nantly to the Secretary, " Don't send that d — d woman
down here to defeat my election." But when Miss
Dickinson began her course, lecturing round the State,
drawing enthusiastic audiences, and fanning the embers
of Eepublican sentiment into a flame, the astonished
candidate began to deluge the committee with applica
tions for her aid. But the answer was the old answer —
" If you will not when you may,
When you will you shall have nay."
The " d — d woman" was not sent down ; that candidate
was defeated, but the State was carried for the Repub
licans.
There now got up a furor about the eloquent young
Quakeress. Leading Republicans in Connecticut, who
had begun to despair of carrying their State for Lincoln,
sent for Anna Dickinson, who came, saw, and conquered.
What could gallant Americans do when a pretty Quaker
ess had taken the field ? Mrs. Stanton says that the
fortnight's campaign was one continued ovation. Even
VOL. II. 0
210 ANNA DICKINSON.
Democrats gave way to the popular enthusiasm, tore off
their badges, and substituted the likeness of the Quaker
girl. Ministers preached about her ; people called her
another Joan of Arc, raised by God to carry the Kepub-
lican ticket. When the State was actually carried for
Lincoln by a majority of several hundred votes, Anna
Dickinson was hurrahed, serenaded, deluged with bou
quets ; while the Electoral Committee, more practical
in its gratitude, presented her with four hundred dollars
for her closing speech, and one hundred dollars for each
of the preceding. She was now called for everywhere,
and went stirring up the popular enthusiasm in favour
of the Government. When she went to speak at Wash
ington, the Hall of Eepresentatives (corresponding with
our House of Commons) was voted to her with acclama
tion ; she was led to the Speaker's chair by the Vice-
President of the United States, and there, " for an hour
and ten minutes," the Quaker girl delivered her argu
ments and fiery appeals to a vast audience of three
thousand legislators, soldiers, and other citizens, amongst
whom sat President Lincoln.
In 1865, the successful issue of the war took away
one stimulus to her enthusiasm ; but there were other
unsettled questions in which she was interested, and on
which (specially the question of Woman's Eights) she
has been lecturing ever since.
The first time I heard her, she appeared upon the
platform in a grey dress, with a red ribbon hanging
from the brooch at her neck. She faced the vast
audience with a fearless eye, and with the air of one
who is accustomed to it. She is pretty without being
very prepossessing ; is rather small in person, but full
of nerve and passion; wears her dark clustering hair
ANNA DICKINSON ON THE PLATFORM. 211
cut short ; has a bold front ; an eye full of dark light
ning, an Irish- American tongue, and a tremendous voice
that might awaken the dead. Her lecture was on her
now favourite subject of Woman's Eights. She entitled
it " Idiots and Women " — taking as her text the law
that " all people of the age of twenty-one years shall be
eligible to office and shall have the right to vote, save
only criminals, paupers, idiots, and women" From
this text she delivered a violent philippic against the
subjection of women and the tyranny of men. " Here
is a nation," she cried, " that declares that it gains its
power from the consent of the governed, and yet never
receives and never asks the consent of one-half the
governed ! Here is a nation declaring that taxation
and representation are inseparable, and yet taxing a
woman's property wherever it can be found, but for
ever denying woman the right to say how this tax shall
be expended !"
And what reason is assigned for this ? " Most men,"
she answered, " can give no better reason than the
Bishop gave for believing in the Bible — namely, first,
that he was a bishop, and second, that he knew nothing
about it !"
She waxed wroth over the law's injustice to women.
She cited one case of a man in Connecticut who married
a woman worth 50,000 dollars in her own right. This
man, first of all, paid for his wedding clothes out of his
wife's money, and when he died (as he did within a
year), willed to his wife the interest of her own money,
so long as she remained a widow !
" Some people tell us," she said, " that women in
fluence enough by their beauty. But how about those
who have no beauty ? Have plain-looking women no
212 ANNA DICKINSON.
rights ? Others say, ' Women's business is to look after
the house/ If this is your position, why do you not
carry the argument to its logical conclusion, and say to
the storekeeper, ' Your business is to sell soft goods,
therefore you shall not vote ?' "
She had some stinging remarks here and there for
the male sex — those at least opposed to female suffrage.
" People say that women are silly creatures, not fit to
vote. Well, some of them are : " she said, " God Almighty
made them so, I suppose, to match some of the men"
When she spoke of the laws that have the effect of
compelling a woman to choose between a husband
or nothing, she said, as Theodore Parker had it, That
it was sometimes giving her a choice between two
nothings.
Her audience, cold and listless at first, occasionally
receiving with an audible hiss some unwelcome per
sonality, soon became interested, and began to laugh
and applaud, while Miss Dickinson, unaffected by
any demonstration, bowled along at a terrific rate,
pushing back her hair from her excited face, and pour
ing forth an unbroken torrent of sarcasm, argument,
and appeal.
Dr. Johnson used to say that a woman's preaching
was like a dog walking on its hind legs — it did not do
it well, but it was a wonder to see it doing it at all.
But Anna Dickinson, when in the right mood, lectures
with rea| power ; and Dr. Johnson himself would have
winced under some of her strokes that night.
At the May anniversary of the Anti-Slavery Society
in New York, I heard her again unexpectedly. She
was not announced to be there, but after several speeches
had been delivered, the chairman said, " If my eyes do
AT NEW YORK AND CHICAGO. 213
not deceive me, I think I see Miss Dickinson in one of
the back seats. Will she come up to the platform ?"
Miss Dickinson did not need much coaxing. She rose
at once, walked up to the platform, and, assuming that
she had been called on for a speech, took off her hat,
laid it on the chairman's desk, and began. From the
reference which she by-and-by made to a little card in
her hand, it seemed as if she had not been altogether
unprepared for the invitation. Her remarks, however,
lacked the nerve and fire of her lecture. She " im
proved" a speech that had gone before in favour of
enfranchising black men by demanding the enfranchise
ment also of black women. This proposal, when public
feeling was not prepared to enfranchise even the cul
tured ladies of the North, seemed such a reductio ad
absurdum of the Woman's Eights movement that the
meeting seemed rather annoyed at its being made.
Miss Dickinson's self-confidence is wonderful. At
the Woman's Eights Convention in Chicago, the Eev.
Eobert Laird Collyer, a prominent Unitarian, denounced
the female suffrage movement, recommending women
to stay at home and leave politics to their husbands.
Miss Dickinson immediately got up in reply, attacked
Collyer with great spirit, said that in Massachusetts
there were three women to one man, so that on his
principle two-thirds of them could have no husbands
to represent them ; and that 40,000 of the remainder
had drunken husbands who did not represent but mis-
represent them. Mr. Collyer responded, Miss Dickin
son replied, and so it went on amidst great excitement,
each party speaking four or five times, Mr. Collyer, it
was said, coming off second-best.
Tor her regular lectures Miss Dickinson is much
214 ANNA DICKINSON.
sought after by Lyceums and other societies through
out the North. I was told that next to John B. Gough
she drew the biggest audiences of any public lecturer
in the States. She is paid at the rate of from £15 to
£30 a night, and is said to be always worth that and
more to the society.
RAILWAY TRAVELLING. 215
XV.
RAILWAY TRAVELLING.
" YES, sir," said a tall Western man with whom I
was one day conversing, " I calculate this is going to
be the biggest thing in God's creation." He referred
to the new line which was then in rapid process of
construction across the Rocky Mountains to the shores
of the Pacific. Without wholly committing myself to
the same position, it seems to me that America, in some
of her railway as well as steam-boat comforts, has left the
rest of the world behind. On one of these Western lines,
I travelled several hundreds of miles in a train where,
by the payment of a few extra dollars, I secured a
beautiful little parlour and bedroom all to myself. The
parlour was furnished with richly- cushioned sofa and
chairs, a stove, gilded racks for parcels and books, and
a table at which I could sit and write, or have my
meals if I chose to order them in. The bedroom was
furnished with equal completeness, and the conductor,
who awoke me in the morning, brought in my breakfast
and the morning papers of the district through which
we were passing at the time. It was like a little
travelling hotel
These " drawing-room coaches," " silver-palace cars,"
and " Pulman cars," as they are variously called, are
only found as yet on a few of the longest and most
2 1 6 KAILWAY TRAVELLING.
frequented lines. But almost every train that runs by
night in Canada or the States carries a sleeping car,
where the payment of an extra dollar secures you a
tolerably comfortable curtained berth, in which, when
you become accustomed to the noise and the shudder
ing and jolting of the car, you may sleep as soundly as
you would in your own bed at home. Dressing in one
of these berths, especially the under one, feels a little
like trying to dress under a sofa ; but the major part of
your toilet can be deferred till you get to the washing
and dressing-room, which is always found at one end
of the car.
To understand this and many of the other peculiari
ties of railway travelling in America, it is necessary to
remember that the carriages or " cars" are not divided
into compartments like ours, with doors at the side. You
enter by a door opening from a little platform at the
end, and find yourself in what seems a long narrow room
with a passage down the middle, and sixteen or twenty
little cross sofas on each side. Along the centre, the
car is so high that a tall man can walk with his hat
on. If you find the one you first enter full, you can
step along the passage, and out upon the little plat
form at the other end, from which you can step (even
when the train is at full speed) to the platform of
the next car, and so, if you like, thread the whole
train.
This construction clears the way for almost all the
conveniences that make railway travelling in America
so much pleasanter and less fatiguing than here. There
is a stove at one end of every car, and a fountain at the
other. If you feel cold, you can go and heat yourself
at the stove; if you feel thirsty, you can go to the
THE TRAIN-BOY. 217
fountain and have a drink. On many lines, indeed, a
boy passes through the train every half-hour with iced
water, which is supplied gratis. The same arrangement
allows you, if you want a smoke, to pass forward when
you please to the smoking car ; or, if night comes on, to
pass rearward to the sleeping car. It also allows the
conductor to pass through and examine or collect the
tickets without any stoppage of the train : and allows
the "train-boy" to pass to and fro, vending such articles
as travellers may be supposed to want.
This last is so conspicuous a feature in railway travel
ling in America that it deserves special mention. The
train is hardly started before the boy comes through
selling newspapers. He is generally a sharp lad, who
has clearly before his mind two facts. The first is, that
if you have forgotten to buy a newspaper before starting,
you will, by-and-by, begin to miss one very much, and
be willing to pay a little extra rather than want it.
The second is that, as the train is now fairly off, he (the
boy) enjoys a monopoly, there being no longer any out
side competition, and therefore that he can charge just
as much as he thinks your paperless condition will
tempt you to pay : which he does.
But the boy is aware that humanity has an appetite
for other things than news. Accordingly, having dis
posed of his papers, he by-and-by makes his appear
ance with a basket of apples, or nuts, or grapes, or
whatever happens to be in season. Should he fail to
tempt you with these, he returns with maple sugar,
or figs, or candy. If you have children, he turns the
box of candy round to let them see it. Their little
mouths begin to water, they turn their wistful eyes to
yours, your parental affections are moved, and you ask
218 RAILWAY TRAVELLING.
the boy what he charges. The boy magnanimously, and
in consideration of your being a parent with the cares
of a family devolving upon you, names ten cents, the
candy being worth two; arid when you have divided
the candy amongst the children, throws a smile into the
lot without charge, and passes on in quest of other
customers.
After a time the same boy, speculating in his inscru
table retirement on the varied wants of human nature,
and having come to the conclusion that by this time
(your appetite for confections and latest news being
satisfied) the desire for general information may be
successfully appealed to, re-appears with an armful of
books, magazines, or illustrated papers. He passes
down the car, throwing one upon the lap of each person
as he goes, — but not indiscriminately ; he has observed
your appearance, and has formed his opinion of what is
most likely to excite your interest, and send your hand
again into your pocket. Accordingly, upon your knee,
for you have your little boy (we shall suppose) upon
the other, he drops a picture-book ; on your wife's lap,
for he has noted her expensive bonnet, he throws a
Magazine of Fashion; to the curly-headed youth with
his hat cocked over his eye he throws an illustrated
police paper ; to the gentleman with the cheesy hat he
administers an agricultural journal; on the lap of the
old maiden lady at the door he drops the Monthly
Scandal, or a copy of The Mysterious Man, and so passes
through into the next car to drive the same business.
And just when the elderly lady has dipped deep enough
into the story of The Mysterious Man to feel an intense
desire to know what becomes of him, and the youth
with the hat cocked over his eye has caught sight of
NO CLASSES. 219
some picture of doubtful propriety between the uncut
leaves of the police paper, the boy is back to take away
the papers or get the money for them.
In cars constructed in the manner described, there is
of course no separation of classes. Some lines, no doubt,
have emigrant cars more rudely fitted up, and charging
a smaller price, to run newly arrived emigrants out
West. On other lines, especially in the South, there
are " nigger cars," open, of course, to white people, and
often used as smoking cars, but to which all coloured
passengers have to confine themselves. The Civil
Eights Bill has made such a restriction illegal ; but
wherever I went the old rule was still practically en
forced. On the other hand, there are those luxurious
silver-palace cars, which constitute (practically) an Ame
rican first class, being open to those only who pay an
extra price to the conductor. There is also the sleeping-
car, and the ladies' car — the latter fitted up with extra
accommodation, and reserved for ladies, and for gentle
men who have ladies with them.
But these are all trifling exceptions. In the ordinary
cars, which charge about the same as our second class,
with superior accommodation, and in which nine-tenths
of the people Iwavel, all classes are together. The Irish
servant-girl pays the same fare as the Yice-President
of the United States, and takes her seat beside him.
The hodman has a cushioned seat, a carpet, a rail for
his feet, an ornamental rack for his bundle, and a lattice
blind to screen his delicate complexion from the sun,
just as the bishop's daughter has in the seat before, or
the young dandy in the seat behind.
There are inconveniences connected with this state
220 EAILWAY TRAVELLING.
of things, but they are far fewer than I had been led to
expect. You never see an act of rudeness such as might
not occur any day in a first-class carriage at home. The
only approach to incivility that is at all common arises
from the desire of every passenger to keep a whole seat
to himself and get you passed on if possible to another.
He will seat himself at one side, lay his coat at the
other, as if it were engaged (each seat or little sofa
being meant for two) ; and when he sees you or any
one else coming through the car in quest of a place, he
will turn his face to the window, and become suddenly
absorbed in the distant landscape. But when you stop
and say, "Is this seat occupied, sir?" he will, as a rule,
turn pleasantly, and (the game being up) lift his coat
and make room ; and, having no further interest in the
landscape, will generally get into conversation with you,
and make a very agreeable companion. The little pre
liminary bit of churlishness is common, I suppose, to
both countries.
But there is never any annoyance from smoking in
America, the way to and from the smoking car being
always open. And I have often heard ladies who had
gone from this country speak of the indescribable relief
it is there, when travelling without a companion, to
know that it is impossible for them to be locked up
alone in a small compartment with some rude or desper
ate character. In America, a lady takes her seat in
the public car with as much confidence as she would
take her seat in the saloon of one of our steamers, or
the drawing-room of one of our hotels.
Moreover, while the privacy that is possible in Britain
is impossible here, and while this commingling of all
classes must, to a certain extent, lower the highest form
TICKETS. 221
of aristocratic refinement, it is one of the ways in which
the people, high and low, are being educated for the new
form of society to which the world is moving. The
high must stoop to help up the low. All down the
scale, the work of God incarnating Himself to redeem
mankind has to be reproduced. The result in many
respects is beneficial to all classes. One notices in these
American cars that the millionnaire, finding that the
hodman can sit on the same seat and claim equal rights,
learns to be accommodating, and to take his seat not as
a millionnaire but as a man ; while the hodman, finding
that he is amongst ladies and gentlemen, and is expected
to act like a gentleman himself, becomes polite to an
extent which would surprise those who draw their
notions of men and manners in America too exclusively
from the pages of Martin CJmzzleivit. Of course men
and masses of men are not refined in a day, but the
process of education is going on.
American railways provide other facilities besides
those already mentioned. Your ticket, for instance,
allows you to break your journey anywhere or every
where along the route. I remember taking a through
ticket once from New York to Charleston. It was a
formidable-looking ticket, about a foot and a half long,
divisible into parts representing different stages of the
journey. Armed with this ticket, I began my journey
South. I stopped a week at Philadelphia, another at
Washington, another at Eichmond ; a fortnight at Peters
burg ; a fortnight at Wilmington : spent altogether two
months on the way. When I gave up the last piece of
the ticket, I said to the conductor, — "How long do
these tickets remain good?"
222 RAILWAY TRAVELLING.
" Nominally a year," he said ; " but if you had turned
up next year or the year after, we should have passed
you on. We hold the ticket good till you get to the
end of your journey."
Then the system of checking baggage. This is an
unspeakable relief to the encumbered traveller. Every
body knows what a constant source of anxiety luggage
is in this country. You have first of all to get a paper
label stuck on every box and bag merely to prevent its
being carried away to London when you want to go to
Liverpool. On reaching your destination you have
often to struggle through a frantic crowd of men,
women, porters, and cabmen, to find out and identify
your different things. And from the frequent similarity
of different trunks and portmanteaus to one another,
never a day passes without mistakes occurring, and
innocent people driving away with other people's things.
Or if, to escape all this, you book your luggage, you
have to pay for it. In America you are saved all this
annoyance and expense by a very simple contrivance.
When you take out your ticket, the baggage-clerk looks
at it, and affixes a brass medal with a number on it to
each of your packages, and gives you the duplicates.
These are your " checks." So long as you have these
the company takes charge of your luggage and is re
sponsible. You may stop a day here and a day there
on your way, but when you reach your destination
your things are there waiting you. Nobody, even by
assuming your name (which would suffice here) can
meddle with these packages without presenting the
checks. Nor is it necessary when you want your
baggage to go and identify it. The numbers on the
duplicate tickets suffice for that. You take your seat
NO TROUBLE WITH LUGGAGE. 223
in a hack or hotel-omnibus, and give your checks to
the man, who goes and gets your things for you. I had
less trouble with my luggage travelling thousands of
miles in America over different lines of railway than I
have sometimes had here passing from Edinburgh to
Glasgow. The Americans cannot understand why we
content ourselves with our present system ; and I con
fess my wits are no keener than theirs.
224 THE HUB.
XVI.
THE HUB.
MY first visit to Boston, the account of which I have
left over till now, that all about that city may go together,
was paid in the month of November, just when that
great centre of the intellectual life of America was
quickening into activity for the winter. The city was
in town again, as one gentleman expressed it; the
public schools and colleges were open; the literary stars
that vanish into space in the summer-time were again
clustering over the place in glorious constellation ; the
lecture courses for which Boston is so famous were all
commenced; everything was going on that I was most
anxious as a stranger to see. The first thing that
caught my eye in the papers on the night of my arrival
was a list of lectures to be delivered by Wendell
Phillips, Horace Greeley, Curtis, John B. Gough, Charles
Sumner, and Ealph Waldo Emerson. I remember how
it thrilled me, as I read these advertisements, to feel
that I was really in Boston — that city of many a dream.
The Bostonians are very proud of their city. I think
it was Oliver Wendell Holmes who first called it " the
Hub " — hub being the central part of a wheel — Boston,
by analogy, the central part of God's creation, from
which all light radiates, and towards which all eyes of
men and angels are turned. It used to be a saying
UNITARIANISM. 225
that a person born in Boston did not need to be born
again.1
Boston and New York being both great cities —
Boston the literary and New York the commercial
centre of the States — there exists between them a feel
ing of secret jealousy, something like that which exists
here between Glasgow and Edinburgh. Each one points
to the other with pride when the glory of the United
States is the topic, but when the question is one of
Boston versus New York, a strong feeling of jealousy
betrays itself. It was a great triumph to New York
that season when Cunard withdrew his steamers from
Boston. There was infinite crowing over "the hub"
in the New York papers; and "the hub" could not
conceal its chagrin.
Boston is still the headquarters of Unitarianism.
Most of the educated people I met were adherents of
this creed ; but Unitarianism, while it has succeeded in
impregnating the popular faith with some of its ideas,
seems to have lost ground as a separate faith. Even
in Boston it no longer stands where it did in the days
of Buckminster, Ware, and Greenwood. The other
creeds are gaining ground, and already claim a large
majority of the population. As soon as you leave the
city you begin to lose sight of Unitarianism altogether ;
and in New York, with its three-quarters of a million
of souls, only a few hours' run from Boston, the Uni
tarians, out of 460 Protestant churches, can claim but
three ! It is too colourless a creed for the masses.
Within its own pale there seems an illimitable
1 The Americans have a weakness death of two other prominent Bos-
for comical profanity. When Gover- tonians, one gentleman remarked —
nor Andrews' death was announced "What a respectable place heaven
that week, following close on the is getting to be ! "
VOL. II. P
226 THE HUB.
diversity of opinion. I talked with some Unitarians
who held very high views of Christ's divinity and the
inspiration of Scripture ; others were mere infidels.
There is the same diversity in the pulpit. I heard one
prominent Unitarian in Boston preach a sermon on
" The Life of Christ " that might have passed muster in
the most orthodox church in Scotland. Every variety
of believer and unbeliever is covered by the same name,
from men like Gannet and Eufus Ellis, who represent
the old school of reverent Unitarians, down to Mr.
Hepworth, who discards the authority of either Old or
New Testament, and looks on the Virgin Mary as a
woman of doubtful reputation. The only point of
agreement seemed to be their common denial of the
doctrine of Depravity, the Atonement, and the Trinity.
But there is no standard of appeal. Every man is
allowed to think for himself.
I heard a great deal in Boston about Theodore Parker,
traces of whose influence are found everywhere. His
preaching was described to me as quiet, but with a
depth of earnestness about it to which no listener could
remain insensible. His sarcasm was withering — his
language at times daring, even to profanity, making the
people shudder. For years the vast Music Hall was
crowded Sabbath after Sabbath to hear him. A gentle
man who was a frequent attender, said he had some
times seen the whole audience convulsed with laughter,
sometimes bursting into tempests of applause. They
used to read the papers before Parker came in, and
even during the preliminary exercises ; but papers were
laid aside when the sermon began. Another gentleman
told me that he was once present at a meeting of young
men in Parker's house. Parker was giving them a his-
CHOATE'S VOCABULARY. 227
tory of the society lie had formed after being expelled
from the Unitarian body as too extreme. Some of
his people at first wanted communion; but he had
discountenanced it, and told them they could take
their cake and wine at home. "I think," he said,
" it is time for people to give up taking their meals
in church." My informant was so shocked at this
blasphemy that he left, and never went to hear Parker
again.
Parker gets the credit amongst all parties of having
been a brave and fearless man, and one of those who
fought the battle of Abolitionism at the peril of his life.
William Crafts, a coloured man, who is now organizing
a scheme for co-operative negro labour in the Southern
States, from which he and his wife were then runaway
slaves, told me that Parker on one occasion concealed
them in his study, and wrote his sermons with loaded
pistols on his table, and the gun that his father had
used in the revolutionary war standing at his side.
One also hears a great deal in Boston about Choate
and Webster (•'' Dan'l Webster," as they call him), and
the Homeric conflicts of those giants in forensic debate.
I spoke to people who had heard Choate plead for four
or five hours in succession, laying out his case with
consummate skill, and holding the court, and the dense
audience, spell-bound to the close. Even a people so
remarkable for ease arid fluency of address as the
Americans, stood amazed and confounded at Choate's
overwhelming vocabulary. It was said that when
Noah Webster's Dictionary was first published, a
case was going on in court which was expected to
bring from Choate a speech of at least four hours'
duration.
228 THE HUB.
. £
A gentleman in conversation with one of the judges
happened to remark that the dictionary just published
contained thirteen thousand new words.
" Thirteen thousand new words ! " cried the judge in
consternation. " For God's sake don't tell Choate that
till this case is over ! "
Choate seemed to be born a special pleader. He lost
himself in his case ; became as nervous and eager about
it as if he were client himself; spoke with intense
earnestness, and often pleaded before the jury with tears
in his eyes. Well aware, no doubt, of the influence
that sympathy has over a man's judgment, he lost no
opportunity of prepossessing people in his favour. One
gentleman, whose son is now a lawyer, said that on one
occasion he introduced his son to Choate in the midst
of the crowd, as the people were pouring into court.
Choate shook hands kindly, said a few pleasant words,
and passed on. He stopped again, however, under one
of the pillars, turned round, and waited till the gentle
man and his son came up, when he took the young
man's hand and said, — " If I can ever be of any service
to you, come to me at once. Will you promise ? " Had
he said this at first it might have been taken as a mere
piece of politeness : stopping again to say it, left upon
the mind of both father and son a deeper impression of
kindness.
Another acquaintance of the eloquent lawyer's men
tioned that, when speaking with him one day on the
Court-house steps, a working-man passed up, to whom
Choate nodded familiarly.
" Who is that ? " the gentleman asked.
" I don't know," said Choate. " But he may be one
of the jury."
CHARLES SUMNER. 229
Choate's power of moving the sympathies and ex
citing the enthusiasm of his auditors made him a
dangerous antagonist, even for the redoubtable Ex
pounder of the Constitution. But Webster's strength
was more real, and depended less than is often sup
posed upon the scathing fire and terrible power of
voice which marked his mightier efforts both at the
bar and in the Senate. In a celebrated will case, when
Choate and Webster were pitted against each other,
Choate made a thrilling speech of two hours' duration,
and was followed by Webster, who spoke in his usual
sluggish style but got the verdict for his client. A
lady who was present was asked next day what she
thought of Choate's speech.
" Oh, beautiful ! enchanting ! " she said with enthu
siasm. " I never heard anything like it."
"And Webster's?"
" I was quite disappointed with Webster, after all I
had heard about his oratory/'
" He put the case very clearly though ? "
" Oh yes, he put the case clearly enough."
" You would feel that he had made out the case ? "
" Yes. Oh yes."
" You had no doubt, when he sat down, how the jury
would decide ? "
"None."
" Well, that 's what we mean by Webster's oratory."
One of the first celebrities whom I heard " orate " in
Boston was Charles Sumner, who represents the State
of Massachusetts in the Senate, and whose name and
position first became familiar to the public here when
Brooks of South Carolina assaulted him in Congress for
230 THE HUB.
his hostility to slavery.1 His lecture at Boston was
entitled, "Are we a Nation?" and was an argument,
powerfully put, in favour of maintaining the authority
of Congress. He is a large, heavy man, dark-eyed and
dark-haired, looking much younger than he really is,
and wearing his hair a little after the fashion of Disraeli,
massed upon the side of his brow. He has a deep,
powerful voice, but his oratory did not impress me.
He began to gesticulate in a formal manner as soon as
he opened his mouth, reminding one of a schoolboy
commencing a recitation. His intonations also are
artificial. He lifts his voice, keeps it up for a time,
and then suddenly, and without any reason in the
nature of things (unless it be to let the whole power
of his voice be felt) plunges into a deep growling
tone. This is characteristic of many public speakers
in America. Sumner is regarded in the North as a
great orator, and lectures a good deal round the
country. Unhappily, he has the reputation of being
a great scholar, and considers it necessary to sustain
his reputation by loading his speeches, when they
admit of it, with classical allusions, and is so fastidious
about his ore rotundo style, that he often weakens the
native force of his thought and argument. When a
speech, in consequence, becomes heavy and laboured,
the people can only say, " It was classic, sir ; it was a
classic speech."
But Charles Sumner is a power in the country, and
one of the ablest as well as most prominent leaders of
the Eepublican party — would probably, but for his
1 It is told of Sumner, but is also tort, that when challenged to fight
told of others, making it doubtful with pistols, he replied, — "When I
who was the real author of the re- want to die, I can shoot myself."
GOING TO SEE LONGFELLOW. 231
rugged honesty and self-will, have been the leader of
that party long ago.
At Cambridge, a few miles out of Boston, lives the
poet Longfellow — one of the men in all America whom I
was most anxious to meet, and to whom, before leaving
Scotland, I had been provided with introductions. How
well I remember that particular forenoon when I took
the Cambridge horse-cars and drove out along the
Mount Auburn road, feeling as if it were a dream that
within half-an-hour I was to see Henry Longfellow
face to face. At last the conductor stopped to let me
out, and said, — "You take the cross-road here. Mr.
Longfellow's house is the third to the left."
I walked down the road very slowly, for anticipation
is sweet, and one does not like to hurry over a joy that
can never be had but once. My bosom was filled with
strange emotion. I was about to see the man who had
touched the heart of Christian humanity with his songs
— one who had filled my own early life with the music
of his dreams. It is always sweet to pay homage to the
poet, but to few, either in the New World or in the Old,
could I have paid it with so much heart as to Long
fellow. How pure his influence upon the world had
been ! How many hearts his " Psalm of Life," his
" Evangeline," and his " Excelsior," had kindled with a
nobler enthusiasm ! How many toilers in the dark cells
of humanity his " Architects of Fate" had awakened to
the nobleness and immortality of faithful work ! Among
the mountains of sorrow how many melancholy wander
ers had he cheered ! How many a mother's heart, throb
bing with anguish over the withered corpse of her child,
232 THE HUB.
had he comforted with his sweet song of " The Eeaper
and the Flowers !"
The old Craigie House, once the Washington head
quarters, which has been occupied by Longfellow since
1837, and from which, in 1839, he dated his Hyperion,
was now before me — a large white mansion, standing
on a gentle eminence, partially screened from the Mount
Auburn road by a grove of elms. A footpath led to it
from the gate through the gently sloping lawn. Just as
I reached the door, a short-haired terrier came racing
round, and began to jump up to my hand and wriggle
joyfully about my feet. I had only been in a minute
when Longfellow made his appearance. He looked older
and more venerable than I had expected to find him —
his long clustering hair and shaggy beard white as snow.
I was struck, too, with a look of latent sadness in his
eyes — an expression which vanishes at times when he
is moved to laughter, but steals back into the thoughtful
eye, and into every line of the face, as soon as the pass
ing thought is gone. Those lines of Mrs. Browning's
often occurred to me when I looked at him : —
" 0, sorrowful great gift,
Conferred on poets, of a twofold life,
When one life has been found enough for pain."
I heard, however, from some of Longfellow's friends,
that the tragic death of his wife, to whom he was
devotedly attached, had made a great change in his
appearance, and brought a shadow over his life that
nothing had ever been able to drive away.
The family were at an early dinner, but Longfellow
insisted upon my joining them. The Scotch terrier
went in with us, and was still making demonstrations
to attract my attention.
LONGFELLOW'S TABLE-TALK. 233
" That terrier is intensely national/' said Longfellow,
with a smile. " I never knew a Scotchman come here
but that terrier found him out, and wanted to make
friends with him."
After dinner he took me to his study, wheeled a big
arm-chair for me to the fireside, and, seating himself in
another, with a cigar, began to ask about his literary
friends in Scotland. He spoke of Alexander Smith and
his City Poems, and of Gilfillan's early recognition of
their author's genius, and expressed deep regret at
Smith's premature death. Aytoun he knew chiefly by
his Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers. Tennyson, he said,
was exceedingly popular all over America. He showed
me a beautiful copy of the Laureate's works that stood
among the books on his study-table. He spoke of
George Mac Donald, and of Dr. John Brown, whose
" Spare Hours" \_Horce Subsecivas] was much admired.
" But he is best known," he said, " by some of his
shorter pieces. Rob and his Friends is everywhere."
Speaking of international copyright law, he said, —
" We have done all we could to get such a law passed.
You would gain by it even more than we. The diffi
culty lies with the lower class of publishers and book
sellers here. They cry out against it. But houses like
Fields' are strongly in its favour, and have lent all their
influence to obtain it. My own idea," he added, " is
this : — Any copyright taken out on the one side should
hold on the other ; and whenever it expires on the side on
which it is taken out it should expire on the other. This,
I think, would cover the whole ground, and would avoid
all difficulty arising from the different lengths of time
for which copyright is granted in the two countries."
Of newspapers and journals he said, — " Ours are not
234 THE HUB.
equal to yours. We have no such classic writing here
as you have in the Times, Spectator, and Saturday Re
view. But our standard is rising."
Speaking of the war, he said, — " When the Marquis
of Lome was here, I asked him why the English aristo
cracy were so exultant over the split of our Union. The
Marquis said it was the instinct of caste. He was the
first nobleman I met who perceived, or at least con
fessed the truth. I was surprised to hear the confession
even from him."
He looked at some photographs that I happened to
have with me. On coming to Cruickshanks', he said,
sadly, " How changed he is since I first met him at the
door of Dickens's house. It makes me feel old to look
at him." He admired a picture of Thomas Carlyle,
taken by Elliot and Fry, but was amused beyond mea
sure at the philosopher's appearance in the handsome
cloak which the artist had thrown over his shoulders
to give effect to the picture, and over which the face
of Sartor Eesartus appeared, wearing an expression of
ludicrously doleful resignation.
Speaking of " Hiawatha" and the Indians, I told Long
fellow how much I preferred the Indian of romance to
the Indian of reality, as far as my experience of him
had gone.
He said, " You see no true specimens now. They are
all degenerated by contact with white men and by rum.
I doubt if there is a pure uncontaminated Indian left
on this continent."
He said that the correct pronunciation of Hiawatha
was " Hea-wah-tha."
When I spoke of Evarigeline, but expressed my doubt
if the hexameter would take root in English soil, he said,
LONGFELLOW'S TABLE-TALK. 235
— " I don't know ; I think it will. It is a measure that
suits all themes. It can fly low like a swallow, and at
any moment dart skywards. What fine hexameters we
have in the Bible, — ' Husbands, love your wives, and be
not bitter against them.' And that line, — ' God is gone
up with a shout, the Lord with the sound of a trumpet /'
Nothing could be grander or finer than that !"
" When I wrote Evcmgeline," he added, " friends here
said, ' It is all very well, but you must take an English
metre ; that hexameter will never do.' But my thoughts
would run into hexameter. However, to please them,
I translated some passages into heroic measure ; but
they agreed, when they heard them together, that the
hexameter was best." But whatever might be thought
of classic measure for new poems, Homer and Virgil
ought, if possible, he said, to be preserved in their
native hexameter. Attempts to modernize Homer, and
put him into English metre, were apt to become absurd.
It was like putting a statue in crinoline, or converting
Achilles into a modern gentleman.
236
HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
XVII
HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
A FEW days after my first interview with Longfellow,
he was kind enough to take me to hear one of Lowell's
lectures at Harvard, where the author of the Biglow
Papers occupies the Chair of Modern Languages and
Literature.1
"We went first and had a glance through the Uni
versity Library. Harvard's ambition was to make this
an American Bodleian ; but the destruction of the
library by fire in 1764 was a heavy blow; and the
1 Harvard University (the Oxford
of America) is so called from its
founder, the Rev. John Harvard,
who in 1636 "donated" £700 to
wards its support. Lotteries were
subsequently chartered to raise suffi
cient money for the different build
ings ; but the University has from
the first depended mainly on private
generosity. Attempts were made
long ago to induce Indians to attend
its classes, and prepare themselves
for civilizing their fellow-aborigines.
But the red man was too fond of the
trail and the war-path, and only one
ever took a degree at Harvard. Of
late years the standard of gradua
tion in this University has been
rising ; and the degrees of Harvard
and Yale are now equal in value to
almost any that can be obtained on
this side of the Atlantic. Harvard
has 34 professors, 20 tutors, about
400 trader-graduates, and upwards
of 800 students altogether attend
ing the classes. Difference of creed
is made no ground of exclusion
from any honour, even the highest.
Amongst the professors, one is a
Swedenborgian, another a Uni
tarian, another a Universalist, an
other a Presbyterian, and so on.
But Longfellow said they all worked
pleasantly together. The academi
cal year is divided into two terms,
with seven weeks' vacation in sum
mer and six in winter.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 237
number of books since collected does not exceed
150,000. I noticed several old donations from Scot
land, and the librarian said lie was anxious to see
more of the Scottish element, and wished that Scottish
authors and publishers knew the desire of Harvard
that everything published in this country should put
in an appearance there — a desire which I am glad of
this opportunity of making to some extent known.
As for the kind of books wanted, Harvard is omni
vorous. " I should be glad," the librarian said, " if
every Scotchman who puts an idea or half an idea in
print would send it to this library." To illustrate the
importance that might attach to even the pettiest
publication, he told me a story (which I hope was not
apocryphal) about some man who would have lost a
large fortune, had it not been that a funeral sermon
preserved at Harvard enabled him to supply a missing
link in the chain of evidence.
On leaving the library, and crossing the grassy square
towards Lowell's class-room, we saw, rambling towards
the same point from the other side, an undersized
gentleman in a Highland cloak, carrying a portfolio
under his arm. It turned out to be the author of the
Biglow Papers himself.
We accompanied him to his class-room, where 100
to 150 students were assembled, most of them keen,
dark- eyed youths, and many of them wearing double
eye-glasses — a phenomenon about New England (and
especially about Boston) ladies and gentlemen which I
never got to the bottom of.
Lowell stepped up to the platform, opened his port
folio on the desk, and without ceremony began his
lecture. American professors, like American ministers,
238 HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
abjure gowns. Lowell, in plain shooting- coat and
light speckled necktie ; long curling brown hair, parted
in the middle ; corner of white handkerchief sticking
out of his breast-pocket, stood leaning with his elbows
on his desk and one leg bent back and swaying itself
easily on the point of his boot as he went on.
He read in a pleasant, quiet, gentlemanly way, and
enlivened his lecture with continual sallies of wit, that
threatened at times to disturb the decorum of the class.
The main topic related to the poetry of the Troubadours :
but the introduction had some remarks on the Saxons
— " of whom, however," said he, " as was said of the
gods, ' the less we have to do with them the better.' "
He described them as a sturdy people, " sound of
stomach," " with no danger of liver complaint" — a
shrewd people, "endowed with an acute sense of the
side on which the bread was buttered " — " fine farmers,
settling on the land and sticking like alluvial deposits
in the levels " — practical men " with no notion that
two and two ever make five." " The solidity of these
people," he said, " makes them terrible when fairly
moved." "But there could be no poet in a million
such. Poetry is not made of such materials — of minds
in which the everlasting question is, ' What is this good
for ? ' — a question which would puzzle the rose and be
answered triumphantly by the cabbage."
When he came to speak of the old Metrical Eomances,
he said, describing the career of one of their knight-
errants, — ctlt was delightful. No bills to pay. Hero
never brought to a stand- still for want of cash." " Then
there are the giants who are admitted to all the rights
of citizenship, and serve as anvils for knights, who
sometimes belabour them for three days in succession,
LOWELL'S PROGENITORS. 239
and stop, not for want of breath on the part of the
combatants, but of the minstrel, who, when he found
himself or his audience becoming exhausted, managed
to make the giant's head loose on his shoulders."
In these glorious days of Metrical Romance, said the
professor, "you have a fine time of it, living in your
castle on the top of a rock, enjoying^a sort of inde
pendence, such as a man enjoys in jail." Your horse,
too, is a wonderful animal, " whose skeleton Professor
Owen would have given his ears for." You have a
summary way of dealing with your subjects. " If they
are infidels you take all their heads off and bring them
to more serious views." Finally, at the end of a glorious
career, " you die deeply regretted by your subjects, if
there are any of them left with their heads on."
Enlivening his lecture with little sparkling bits of
fun of this sort, he went on for nearly an hour, in quiet,
easy style, rarely looking up from his manuscript ; his
hands looped behind his back, or fingering the edges of
his desk, raising the lid half an inch and letting it
softly down again. At the comical bits there was a
" pawky " look in his face and a comical twinkle of the
eye, as if he were enjoying the fun just as much as we.
Lowell is descended from a family that is very old
for New England. His grandfather, John Lowell, was a
prominent man in the days of the Eevolution, and was
appointed by Washington to be Judge of the District
Court of Massachusetts. He afterwards became Chief
Justice of the Eirst Circuit under the Presidency of
John Adams. The poet's father, the Eev. Dr. Charles
Lowell, graduated at Harvard in 1800, and spent some
years in Europe, two of them at the Edinburgh Uni
versity. The poet himself was born in Cambridge,
240 HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
where he now lives, and studied at the University of
which he is now a professor. He published a volume
of poetry in 1841 ; tried in 1843 the editing of a paper,
for which Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and
Lowell himself wrote, but which, being too good for
general appreciation, came out but thrice, and then
died, — *
" Wandering backward as in scorn,
Waiting an ^Eon to be born."
In 1844 Lowell published another volume of poetry,
containing many pieces of exquisite beauty ; but the
productions that first made him celebrated were his
inimitable Biglow Papers, written against the Mexican
war and slavery, and published in 1848.
The very first of these threw the public into con
vulsions of laughter, and hit tile mark so well, that
James Eussell Lowell from that day was known as a
power in the country. On one occasion, with half-
a-dozen of these humorously sarcastic verses, he turned
the State election, securing a peace man as Governor of
Massachusetts, by making the war candidate and his
talented right-hand man, John P. Eobinson, the laugh
ing-stock of the whole country. Here was his sketch
of Gushing, the war candidate : —
" General C. is a dreffle smart man ;
He 's been on all sides that give places or pelf ;
But consistency still being part of his plan,
He 's been true to one party — an' that is himself.
So John P.
Robinson he
Sez he shall vote for General C."
Contrasting the General's notions with the peace prin
ciples that reigned in the quiet rural districts of New
England, he goes on to say,—
THE BIGLOW PAPEES. 241
" We were gittin on nicely up here to our village,
With good old ideas o' wut 's right an' wut aint ;
We kind o' thought Christ went agin war and pillage,
An' that eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint ;
But John P.
Robinson he
Sez this kind o' thing 's an exploded idee.
Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life
That th' Apostles rigged out in their swallow-tail coats
An' marched round in front of a drum and a fife,
To git some on 'em office, an' some on 'em votes ;
But John P.
Robinson he
Sez they didn't know evrerythin' down in Judee."
John Bright's reference to the Biglow Papers in a
Parliamentary debate during the American war created
an immediate demand for them in this country, and
led to their republication. Lowell's verses during the
rebellion became less pacific, but not less pungent.
Many of the American letters in the London Daily
News, which stood by the North during the war, were
understood to be his.
Since Longfellow's resignation of his Chair at Har
vard, some fourteen years ago, Lowell has occupied his
place. The two poets live near each other, and are
intimate friends.1 In manner, voice, and appearance,
1 Longfellow's verses, entitled The dawn was on their faces, and
« The Two Angels," which are not The ^^ houges hearsed ^
publish ed, I think, in all the English plumes of smoke."
editions of Ms poems, were occa- Of the angels, " one was crowned
sioned by the coincidence of the ^th amaranth, as with flame, and
birth of a child in his house, and one with asphodels, like flakes
the death of Mrs. Lowell, also in of light." The one that stopped at
child-birth, on the same day. The Longfellow's gate was the angel of
poem begins :— light :_
" Two angels, one of Life and one of " 'Twas at thy door, O friend, and not
Death, at mine,
Pass'd o'er our village as the morn- The angel with the amaranthine
ing broke ; wreath,
VOL. II. Q
242
HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
Lowell, like Longfellow, would not be distinguished
from a cultured English gentleman. Both of them
are indispensable members of what the envious New
Yorkers call the Mutual Admiration Society of Boston
—the circle that has done so much to give America a
classic literature of her own, and that represents a
class of the scholarly men whom America will produce
in greater numbers when the work of breaking up the
boundless prairies and hunting incessantly after the
almighty dollar is sufficiently over to afford time for
quiet, intellectual growth.
I was glad to hear that the opening of the medical
classes would give me an opportunity of hearing Oliver
Wendell Holmes deliver the inaugural lecture.1 Mr.
Pausing, descended, and with voice
divine
Whisper'd a word that had a sound
like Death.
Then fell upon the house a sudden
gloom,
A shadow on those features fair and
thin;
And softly from that hush'd and
darken'd room
Two angels issued, where but one
went in."
1 It is a coincidence worthy of
note, that America's two greatest
humorists — Holmes and Lowell —
should have both been born at Cam
bridge, and should both have gra
duated at Harvard, where both
are now professors. Holmes is
best known in this country by his
"Autocrat," — undoubtedly his chef-
d'ceuvre, — but it will be remem
bered by many that it was his
"Old Ironsides" that saved the
historic frigate Constitution from
being broken up in 1836, when she
was taken for that purpose into the
navy yard at Charleston. The
poem formed part of a "Metrical
Essay " delivered before the Har
vard Phi Beta Kappa Society, and
" Ay, tear her batter'd ensign down,
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky."
And so on to the grandest verse of
all—
" O better that her shatter'd hulk
Should sink beneath the wave ;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave.
" Nail to the mast her tatter'd flag,
Set every threadbare sail ;
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale."
This poem, published in the
Boston Advertiser, ran like wild
fire through the States, aroused the
patriotic sentiment of the people,
and saved the old ship.
EMERSON AND AGASSIZ. 243
Fields, the publisher, who went with me, took me
round to the museum behind the lecture-hall, where
we found a number of the literary and scientific men of
Boston assembled to accompany Dr. Holmes to the plat
form. The doctor himself was there, but was altogether
a different-looking man from what I had supposed
him to be. I had conceived of him, for what reason
I know not, possibly from his poetry, as a tall, thin,
dark-eyed, brilliant-looking man. This is not, perhaps,
the conception one gets from his Autocrat of the
Breakfast Table; but I read his poems first, and first
impressions are apt to remain. Holmes is a plain
little dapper man, his short hair brushed down like a
boy's, but turning grey now; a trifle of furzy hair
under his ears; a powerful jaw, and a thick, strong
under lip that gives decision to his look, with a dash of
pertness. In conversation, he is animated and cor
dial — sharp too, taking the word out of one's mouth.
When Mr. Fields said, "I sent the boy this — " "Yes;
I got them," said Holmes. He told me I should hear
some references to Dr. John Brown of Edinburgh in
his lecture ; also some thoughts he had taken from Dr.
Brown's fine essay on Locke and Sydenham. " But
you see," he added with a smile, " I always tell when
I steal anything ! "
Near us, under one of the lofty windows, two men
were standing whom I would have travelled many a
league to meet. One of them was Professor Louis
Agassiz — big, massive, genial-looking ; the rich healthy
colour on his broad face still telling of the Old World
from which he came — altogether a man who, but for
his dark, keen eyes, would look more like a jovial
English squire than a devotee of science. Beside
244 HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
him stood a man of strangely different build — a gaunt,
long-limbed man, dressed in a high- collared surtout —
his piquant New England face peering down over the
old-fashioned black kerchief that swathed his long,
thin neck. It was Emerson, the glorious transcen-
dentalist of Concord. He stood in an easy, contem
plative attitude, with his hands loosely folded in front,
and his head slightly inclined. He has the queerest
New England face, with thin features, prominent
hatchet nose, and a smile of childlike sweetness and
simplicity arching the face, and drawing deep curves
down the cheek. Eyes, too, full of sparkling geniality,
and yet in a moment turning cold, clear, and searching
like the eyes of a god. I remember, when introduced
to him, how kindly he took my hand, and with that
smile still upon his face, peered deep with those calm
blue eyes into mine.
When the hour arrived we went into the lecture-
room. Let me try to bring up the scene again. The
room is crowded to the door — so crowded that many
of the students have to sit on the steps leading up
between the sections of concentric seats, and stand
crushed three or four deep in the passages along the
walls. What a sea of pale faces, and dark, thoughtful
eyes !
Holmes, Emerson, and Agassiz are cheered loudly as
they enter and take their seats. The Principal opens
proceedings with a short prayer — the audience remain
ing seated. Dr. Holmes now gets up, steps forward to
the high desk amidst loud cheers, puts his eye-glasses
across his nose, arranges his manuscript, and without
any prelude begins. The little man, in his dress coat,
stands very straight, a little stiff about the neck, as if
THE AUTOCRAT LECTURING THE STUDENTS. 245
he feels that he cannot afford to lose anything of his
stature. He reads with a sharp, percussive articulation,
is very deliberate and formal at first, but becomes more
animated as he goes on. He would even gesticulate if
the desk were not so high, for you see the arm that lies
on the desk beside his manuscript giving a nervous
quiver at emphatic points. The subject of his lecture
is the spirit in which medical students should go into
their work — now as students, afterwards as practition
ers. He warns them against looking on it as a mere
lucrative employment. "Don't be like the man who
said, ' I suppose I must go and earn that d — d guinea !'"
He enlivens his lecture with numerous jokes and bril
liant sallies of wit, and at every point hitches up his
head, looks through his glasses at his audience as he
finishes his sentence, and then shuts his mouth pertly
with his under lip, as if he said, "There, laugh at that !"
Emerson sits listening, with his arms folded loosely
on his breast — that queer smile of his effervescing at
every joke into a silent laugh, that runs up into his
eyes and quivers at the corners of his eyebrows, like
sunlight in the woods. Beside him sits Agassiz, leaning
easily back in his chair, trifling with the thick watch-
guard that glitters on his capacious white waistcoat,
and looking like a man who has just had dinner, and is
disposed to take a pleasant view of things.
Holmes is becoming more animated. His arm is in
motion now, indulging in mild movements towards the
desk, as if he meant to kill a fly, but always repents
and doesn't. He shows less mercy on the persons and
opinions that he has occasion to criticise. He comes
down sharply on " the quacks, with or without diplomas,
who think that the chief end of man is to support the
246 HARVARD AND HER TWO HUMORISTS.
apothecary." He has a passing hit at Carlyle's " Shooting
Niagara," and his discovery of the legitimate successor
of Jesus Christ in the drill-sergeant. He has also a
fling at Dr. Gumming, of London, and " his prediction
that the world is to come to an end next year or next
week, weather permitting, but very sure that the weather
will be unpropitious."
The lecture lasted about an hour, and at its close
was applauded again and again — Holmes being a great
favourite with the students. I met him afterwards at
a dinner given to Longfellow and his literary friends,
in congratulation on the completion of the poet's trans
lation of Dante ; and hoped there to enjoy one of the
Autocrat's after-dinner speeches, which are said to be
amongst his most brilliant performances. Longfellow,
however, unlike most Americans, shrinks from any
kind of public speaking himself, and Mr. Fields came
round at dessert to inform us that Longfellow had de
clared, that if he had to make a speech he should be in
torment all the evening, and lose the enjoyment of his
dinner. It had, therefore, been resolved that there
should be no speeches : so Holmes's power as an im-
provisatore had no opportunity for exercising itself that
night.
WENDELL PHILLIPS. 24'
XVIII.
WENDELL PHILLIPS.
THE first sight I got of the great Abolition orator was
in the Music Hall at Boston, where an audience of 3000
people had assembled to hear him lecture on the poli
tical situation. He came upon the platform in a light
overcoat, which he threw off when he rose to speak.
On advancing to the desk, he seemed to find the light
upon his eyes, and, as he had no need of it for any
notes, he turned it down, laid his arm lightly upon the
desk, and began. He is a man of somewhat aristocratic
appearance, with not only the perfect ease and self-
possession of the practised orator, but the quiet and
graceful manners of the gentleman. He is tall and
fair-complexioned, with keen grey eyes, and a face in
which the prevailing expressions are firmness and scorn,
acquired, perhaps, by his having had to face, in the
course of his combative life, so much loud-mouthed and
empty-headed opposition. I found that I had been
led, from the ferocity of his onslaughts on public men
and public measures, as reported in the newspapers, to
form a false conception of his delivery. There is no
fire, no vehemence, no declamation. His sarcasm is
like the air from an iceberg — cold, keen, withering. He
follows an enemy like an Indian upon the trail. You
feel as you listen that he is advancing steadily — that it
248 WENDELL PHILLIPS.
is only a question of time. When he comes to strike,
his strokes are like galvanic shocks ; there is neither
noise nor flash, but their force is terrible.
He can sting with a passing touch. The mere words
cannot enable a reader to imagine the effect he pro
duced when he referred to something that Mr. Seward
said " before he lost his brains," and called President
Johnson, for his references to the old doctrine of a white
man's government, " the Eip Van Winkle of the nine
teenth century." Or the effect which the scorn in his
face gave to his allusion to General Grant's provoking
reticence. " You had first," he said, " a man with his
face heavenward, then you had a man with his face
hellward, and now you want a man of whom all that
can be said is, that we don't know which way his face
is turned."
Phillips' power of exposition and defence is almost
as great as his power of attack. He has the gift of
stating his case with exquisite clearness, and in such a
way as to recommend it to his audience without any
appearance of special pleading.
When asked by a friend if he had ever studied the
works of any great orator as a model for his style, he
said — " No : my style grew out of my training. I
have always been the advocate of unpopular move
ments, and a man who advocates an unpopular move
ment must do three things : He must state his principle
so clearly that it cannot be misunderstood or honestly
misrepresented ; he must state it so simply that the
commonest man in an audience of unlettered men can
understand him ; and he must indulge in no high-
falutin. High-falutin may do for a popular man speak
ing on a popular subject; but an Abolitionist trying
ON THE SITUATION. 249
flights of rhetoric would be roared at, where men like
, on the 4th of July, would be applauded to the
echo. I think," he added, " if I have any special power
of speaking, it grew first from believing what I advo
cated, and then from forgetting everything else in an
intense desire to make my audience think with me."
One of the speeches I heard him give, was an attack
on Congress for its timidity, in not dealing summarily
with the obstructive President, and settling the negro
question with reference to the spirit rather than the
mere letter of the Constitution. Here are one or two
of the passages most characteristic of the man and his
principles. Speaking of the Federal Constitution, " the
compromise of 1789, which suicidally bound up slavery
and freedom together," he said, —
" The fathers took' a cannon, and filled it half up with
powder, then they filled up the remainder with burning
coals, and upon the top of these they drove a plug, and
hoped it would not burst ! . . . Well, it did burst in 1861.
. . . Then came the question, ' What is to be done V The
north star of Lincoln's Government was to save the nation
in the likeness in which it was created in '89. Mr. Seward
declared that he would wage this war to its conclusion,
and not cross the barriers of a single State to touch its
Constitution. And as a fitting commentary on his word,
he sent down George B. M'Clellan [this with indescribable
sarcasm] not to do it. In other words, the system of the
Republican party was to put the pieces of the same cannon
together, put in the same powder, the same red-hot coals,
and the same plug, and then hope it would not happen
again ! "
Referring to the crisis in 1862, which compelled the
North to think of the negro, he said,—
" We wanted blood and treasure, and when the cloud
was blackest we began to ask with bated breath, ' Will the
250 WENDELL PHILLIPS.
negro fight1?' and we went to France to inquire how their
black troops fought in Africa, and to Herodotus to see the
historical aspect of the question, and we rummaged science
to learn »the ethnological position of the race, and then,
shutting our eyes and shuddering, we concluded we would
risk it. That was statesmanship. . . . And the moment
we touched the talisman Justice, the moment we dispersed
our doubts, and carried on the war on great American
principles, and independent of race, the ship of State
righted, and we went from Gettysburg to Atlanta, and
from Atlanta to Petersburg, and from Petersburg to the
crowning victory at Richmond."
In reference to the continued repugnance to the negro
and to negro suffrage, he said, —
" You cry out against Africanizing the South. Ah, how
nice it would be if the South could be made happy, united
again, without that ! How blessed to wake up to-morrow,
and find every one of these objectionable persons bleached
white ! But if you could see it, it is the greatest cause of
gratitude the American people have to-day, that there are
four millions of Africans in the Southern States. But for
them the reconstruction of the South in our time would be
hopeless. God has given us in the blacks a fulcrum on
which to rest the lever to lift up the South into nineteenth
century civilisation."
" Our fathers," he said, " did one great work — they came
from Europe repudiating all caste, and founded a State in
which it was not the rich man, nor the nobleman, that was
to bear the sway — it was the man himself — man without
regard to his accidents. . . . We have that work now to
vindicate and complete. . . . We are verging towards the
close of an epoch. God has bound this generation to the
great duty of eliminating from American politics all ideas
of race ; and whenever the American magistracy becomes
colour-blind, unable to distinguish white from black — when
that day comes, the duty of this generation is done and
sealed, and this epoch is closed."
HISTORY AND CHARACTER. 251
Wendell Phillips belongs to a family well known in
New England. His ancestor, who went out from this
country with the Puritans, was the Eev. George Phillips,
a clergyman of the Church of England, who had gradu
ated at Cambridge. His family became possessed of
large landed property, and did good service to the cause
of learning in New England, by founding and endowing
the Colleges of Exeter and Andover. The father of
Wendell Phillips was first Mayor of Boston, and is de
scribed as a man of courtly manners. His wife, the
mother of the orator, was a woman of rare virtues and
attainments, and is said to have early trained her chil
dren to independence of character, teaching them to do
what they felt to be right, whatever might be the opinion
of the world. The effect of her training is strikingly
manifest in the stern and uncompromising adherence to
principle, in spite of ridicule and abuse, which has been
one of Wendell Phillips' most prominent characteristics.
He inherited, however, his father's aristocratic tenden
cies, and at Harvard, where he studied, joined the
Gentlemen's Club, a rather exclusive society, and was
known as the leader of the aristocratic set. His leanings
were, therefore, all on the other side from the Abolition
movement, which at that time was considered odious
and vulgar.
In 1836, William Lloyd Garrison, that dogged and
irrepressible antagonist of slavery, was laid hold of by
a mob and dragged through the streets of Boston with
a halter round his neck. Young Phillips was in the
street, and that sight opened his eyes to the repressive
and tyrannical spirit of slavery, making him also an
Abolitionist. On the 7th of November, in the following
year, the Eev. E. P. Lovejoy was shot by a mob while
252 WENDELL PHILLIPS.
attempting to defend his anti-slavery printing-press.
This was at Alton, in Illinois, the State where Abraham
Lincoln, the coming Emancipator, was at that time prac
tising law. When the murder of Mr. Lovejoy became
known in the city of Boston, Channing, the noble-
hearted, burning with shame for his country, went to
the Mayor and succeeded, with difficulty, in getting his
sanction to the holding of an indignation meeting in
Faneuil Hall.
The meeting was held, and resolutions moved, but
the Attorney- General opposed them in a speech of such
ability, that- when he sat down the popular ardour was
cooled. At this juncture, when the whole aim and
object of the meeting was in danger of being defeated,
a young man, unknown to most of the audience, rose
and asked permission to reply. He made a speech so
clear and keen, and demolished so completely the argu
ment of the Attorney-General, that the meeting was
taken by storm, rewarded the young orator with raptur
ous applause, and carried the original resolutions.
The young orator was Wendell Phillips, and from that
day he was a marked man. Such was the thoroughness
of purpose with which he now espoused the Abolition
movement, that he relinquished his legal position, be
cause it bound him by oath to support a constitution
which furnished a guarantee to slavery. The traditions
of his family were all in favour of the Federal compact,
but when Wendell Phillips began to feel how powerful
a bulwark the Union afforded to slavery, he joined Gar
rison in denouncing it as a compact with hell. When
the war broke out in 1861, and the North began to
speak of putting an end to slavery, in order to remove
the root of the bitterness and antagonism that had cul-
CONSISTENCY. 253
urinated in rebellion, Wendell Phillips began to urge
the preservation of the Union as strenuously as he had
formerly urged its dissolution. On this ground he has
been accused of gross inconsistency ; but the charge is
based on a forgetfulness of his supreme and controlling
purpose. An officer who attacks a position because it
is occupied by the enemy, is perfectly consistent in de
fending the same position when it is occupied by his
own troops. Wendell Phillips always attached import
ance to union, but more importance to the emancipation
of the coloured race. He considered that disunion was
preferable to complicity with slavery. While, therefore,
the Union protected slavery, he was against it ; as soon
as it turned and began to assail slavery, he was with it.
His consistency becomes apparent the moment we look
at him in his true character as an Abolitionist. In his
career of conflict with the Slave Power, which was car
ried on for thirty years in the teeth of as gigantic and
furious an opposition as ever met a public movement,
Wendell Phillips never wavered, never faltered, never
swerved. He took up the cause when it could only
be advocated at the jeopardy of his life. Along with
Theodore Parker, Garrison, and others, he fought the
battle year after year under every kind of discourage
ment and opposition, and, as late as 1861, had to be
protected during his speech by a posse of police, even
in the city of Boston. And now when he has lived to
see the slave power in the dust, and slavery banished
for ever from the soil of the United States, instead of
resting on his laurels, he has gone on with the advocacy
of other movements which have brought upon him quite
as much ridicule, if not as much wrath — the movements,
namely, for the Suppression of the Liquor Traffic, and
254 WENDELL PHILLIPS.
the extension of the suffrage to the coloured people, and
to women.
Phillips is a well-read and scholarly man. He was a
fellow-student with Charles Sumner at Harvard, and,
though Sumner was the more laborious student, Phillips
was reckoned the more gifted man. His favourite study
from the first was history. His friend Theodore Tilton
says, that at college he gave a whole year to the study
of the English Eevolution of 1640, reading every book,
pamphlet, and speech on the subject that he could find,
and another year to the history of George the Third and
the American Eevolution. In light literature he read
and re-read Sir Walter Scott with such avidity and en
joyment, that he said himself it was a hard thing to get
the Conservative taste out of his mouth and acquire a
liking for Radicalism.
He seems, however, to have succeeded not only in
getting the taste of Conservatism out of his mouth, but
to have acquired an intense detestation of it, and many
charge him with personal hatred of its exponents : this
he himself disclaims. To a friend who spoke to him
about the severity of his attacks on public men, he
said, — " I may be severe, but I claim this for myself,
that I have never had the slightest feeling of personal
animosity towards the men I have criticised. I have
looked at them from a moral stand-point ; I have
criticised them as sinners against a race or against a
principle. I have been the object of abuse myself for
thirty years, but I have never once uttered a word
against a man for any injury done to me personally, or
to any one connected with me. As to hostile criticism
in itself," he said, " I think, if it is fair, we need it. In
a democratic Government like ours, the people — the
HIS GENEROSITY. 255
masses — are entitled to the whole truth about men who
are seeking their confidence and their votes. They are
entitled to know the defects of these men as well as
their merits, so that if they trust them they may trust
them intelligently. If my speeches are examined, it
will be found that the faults I have pointed out have
been faults of the public man affecting the public
welfare."
His friends bear out this assertion, and declare him
to be at heart a man of great kindness and generosity.
One of them gave me the following illustration of his
character : — He was travelling in the cars during the
lecture season, and got into conversation with a lady
who had been lecturing in the same town as himself,
having resorted to this work for self-support. When it
came out that she had only received five dollars for her
lecture, Phillips exclaimed, " Five dollars ! That is not
right. They paid me fifty ; and I hold that a woman
has a right to just as much as a man, if she does the
work as well. You must allow me to divide with you."
She would not hear of it at first, biit Phillips insisted,
and put a little roll of dollar-bills into her hand. On
examination afterwards, she found that he had given
her not the half, but the whole of his fee — fifty dollars.
He had probably been aware that she needed it. It
adds to the generosity of this act, that the lady was
related to the ex- President of the Southern Confederacy.
„
256 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
XIX.
VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
THE Boston ladies are highly educated, and many of
them so intellectual that they need to use double eye
glasses when they look at the gross objects of sense
around them, but they have never got over the weak
ness of their sex for shopping. In visiting the larger
stores — all places for the sale of goods are called " stores"
in America — I was at first astounded at the multitudes
of ladies that swarmed in them all It seemed to me
that at this rate merchants must make fortunes in a day.
I found, however, that the appearance of trade was often
greater than the reality. It is a common practice for
ladies to go round the principal stores in any part of
the city and make the salesmen turn over all the goods,
to see if they can find a prettier shade of cloth, or get
the thing a cent or two cheaper. They don't linger
over anything— they are American in that ; but they
must see everything. There are ladies in Boston and
New York wrho go out shopping every other day, often
with no idea whatever of making a purchase. You will
hear ladies say, " Let us go and see what they have in
the stores," and, after two or three hours of activity,
during which time they have probably had twenty or
thirty people turning over goods for them in different
establishments, they will return without having bought
SHOP-BOYS. 257
a single cent's worth. Still a vast deal of business is
done, and done smartly. The rule, not only in Boston,
but almost everywhere in the States, is cash. Store
keepers cannot be troubled with accounts. Of course,
if ladies run short of money the things are charged, but
the money is paid on delivery.
I was much struck in these large stores with the
activity and politeness of the cash-boys. These little
fellows are kept flying about, and seem to enter into
their work with as much spirit as if they had a principal
share in the business. They are taken direct from
school, and get two or three dollars a week to begin
with. Many of them are the children of poor Irish
people, but have been Americanised by the education
they get in those public schools that are playing so
important a part in American civilisation. A boy
to get through must pass examinations at every
stage. At the end of his course, if he has passed all
these, he gets his written discharge. In many stores a
boy will not be engaged unless he can produce this
discharge, which is a certificate of his education. This
is a practice worthy of imitation, and gives a great
leverage to the educational system. The education
given in the Boston common schools, just as in those
out West, has always a practical bearing, and these boys
leave school most proficient in the branches they espe
cially need for success in active life. Their expertness
in arithmetic is wonderful. They reckon up like a flash
of lightning. " As for geography/' said one gentleman,
who was showing me through his store, " ask any of
these little fellows the smallest place in God's earth,
and he will tell you where it is and what they raise
there." He pointed out several young salesmen who
VOL. II. R
258 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
had come to his store as cash-boys at $2j a week, and
were now on salaries of from $1000 to $1500 a year.
An admirable contrivance for giving the alarm in
case of fire exists in Boston, and has been adopted in
many other cities both in the States and in Canada.
Wherever a fire is discovered, this system allows of the
whole city being made instantly aware of it, and at the
same instant summons the fire-engines to the spot.
The system may be described in a few sentences.
Alarm-boxes, communicating telegraphically with the
Central Fire Office, are fixed in the walls all about the
city and suburbs. The moment any person discovers
a fire he runs to the nearest box, gets the key, and
turns the handle. This suffices to set the whole
machinery in motion. The instant the handle is
turned it causes a bell to ring in the Central Office,
and so to ring as to inform the operator at which box
the alarm is sprung. In another instant the alarm is
transmitted telegraphically to all the fire-stations, and
in twenty seconds more the engines in the division of
the city where the fire has broken out are hurrying to
the spot, others following if required. The same elec
tric current which strikes the alarms at the fire-stations
rings church bells in different parts of the city, which
indicate by the number of strokes where the fire is.
Everybody is thus made aware in a moment, and by
the same signal that announces the fire, whether his
house or place of business is in danger. Cards, with
all the districts marked, are sold for a penny. Some
people, curious in such matters, keep a card in their
bedrooms, and on an alarm sounding at night, consult
the card to see where the fire is. There is a certain
THE FIRE TELEGRAPH. 259
interest in knowing that it is in your friend Smith's
district, and exciting yourself with the image of Mr.
Smith darting from the attic of his house through a
cloud of smoke, and descending a long ladder in his
night-shirt.
In Montreal, where the same system is in operation,
the chairman of the Fire Committee was good enough
to arrange for a false alarm being given to let me see
the system at work. The district selected for giving
the alarm from was Beaver Hill, known as District No.
37. The alarm was given at exactly fifteen minutes to
nine, by the turning of the handle in the box. Almost
instantly on the handle being touched, I heard church
bells begin to toll, indicating that the alarm had not
only reached the Central Office but had been already
telegraphed to all the fire-stations. The bells gave
three tolls, and after a few seconds' pause, seven more —
3 and 7 indicating 37th district. By this time a com
motion was discernible at some distance up the street,
followed by the appearance of the hose-reel dashing
round the corner, exactly one minute and a half from
the moment when the alarm was touched. The firemen
saw, on coming round the corner, that it was a false
alarm ; but as they are occasionally tested in this way
to keep them in practice, they dashed up, attached the
hose to the plug, run out the reel, fixed the nosle, and
in fifteen seconds from their appearance at the corner
the hose was spouting a column of water into the sky.
Within half-a-minute more the reel-hose from the
next station was up and spouting in the same way ; in
another minute and a half a third, and in another
minute a fourth. Had the engineer not telegraphed
from the alarm-box, for this also can be done, the
260 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
whole brigade would have been up in five minutes
more.
Before the experiment was over, a great number of
people, directed by the church bells, were running into
the street to see the conflagration, and one boy arrived
in hot haste to get particulars of the fire for one of the
afternoon papers.
The fire department at Montreal, which also attends
to the watering of the streets, costs the city about
£4000 a year. The expense would be greater if engines
were necessary ; but the water comes from a high level
and hose-reels suffice. At Hamilton, Canada West,
where the reservoir has been constructed with a pro
phetic eye to ten times the present population, the
water-pressure is so enormous, and batters and slunges
a house with such terrific force, that the people said
they scarcely knew which to dread most, the fire or the
water. In Boston, fire-engines are needed, but Yankee
ingenuity is applied to the rapid production of steam
so as to let no time be lost. The instant an alarm is
telegraphed, every engine- furnace is lighted, and the
engine run out. The furnace is so constructed as to
utilize to the utmost the draught caused by the swift
motion of the engine; the consequence being that as
the engine dashes along the street, the furnace glows
with intense heat, generating steam with such astonish
ing rapidity that the machinery is generally ready to
begin work the instant the place is reached. Often at
night, I used to hear the alarm and see these engines
flying like fiery meteors along the street towards the
scene of action. The fire-tax is under 1 per cent.
I happened to be in Boston when the State election
A POLLING-PLACE. 261
took place. The party contest was very keen. The
Republican party had rendered itself obnoxious to cer
tain classes of electors by committing itself to pro
hibition and negro suffrage. The Democrats could
therefore appeal to the thirsty part of the population
and to the lower classes of Irish voters, who seem
everywhere in America to have an ineradicable hatred
to the " nigger." A vast and secret organization, only
vaguely known to the public by the cabalistic letters
"P. L. L.," variously interpreted "Personal Liberty
League/' and " Public Liquor League/' was understood
to have expended hundreds of thousands of dollars in
undermining the Eepublican position, and to have
pledged 40,000 electors to vote the Democratic ticket
and get the grog-shops opened.
When the voting day came I went about the city,
and was surprised to find so entire an absence of all
outward excitement. But for my previous knowledge
of the fact, I should never have imagined that a great
party conflict was in progress. Everything in the great
city went quietly on as usual, and yet every man in
house, store, shop, factory, and in the street, paying two
dollars of a poll-tax, was a voter.
Going to one of the polling-places in the heart of the
city, I found the locality perfectly quiet, save for an
unusual number of carriages and hacks, and a little
crowd of people in front of the polling-place. The
votes were being taken in a hall a few paces back from
the street. There were two doors, both in front, the
one for entrance, the other for exit. At the former
stood a number of electioneering agents and others,
some of them with printed bills in their hands, con
taining the names of the men nominated by the differ-
262 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
ent parties. There was a white bill with a list of the
Eepublican nominees, a blue bill with the Democratic
nominees, and a pink bill with a list made up partly of
Democrats and partly of Eepublicans. The first was
the straight Eepublican ticket, the second the straight
Democratic, and the third the split ticket. These were
being offered to all the electors as they passed in. One
man, with his cigar gripped between his back teeth on
one side, so as to allow him both to speak and smoke,
was standing on the baluster at the side of the entrance
steps, calling upon all and sundry to vote the Demo
cratic ticket, with which he was ready to supply them
from the bundle in his hand.
" Come, now, gentlemen," he cried, in a voice that
would have been a fortune to a travelling showman,
"here's your ticket, gentlemen — the genu-ine Simon
Pure. Three shares in the Phoenix Gold Company to
every man who will vote this ticket. Gentlemen, I am
the only one that holds the honest ticket — the genu-ine
pure Democratic-Eepublican up and down split and
straight crooked ticket !"
A working man going in to vote took a ticket from
him, and with a cigar in his mouth and one hand in
his pocket, took a leisurely look at it.
"Yes, sir!" cried the orator, "the straight, honest
ticket ; good for ten drinks, gentlemen. If you want
to keep the grog-shops open all night, vote my ticket."
A German in a light overcoat, passing in through the
crowd, was immediately besieged with bills. " Here 's
the lager- beer ticket," cried the speaker, bending
down and thrusting one of his bills into the voter's
hands. " Pass in, pass in ; every dram-shop shut up
to-morrow, if you don't vote this ticket. Ah ! how do
METHOD OF VOTING. 263
you do, sir ? " — to a small tailor-looking individual who
had just made his appearance, and with whom the
orator insisted on shaking hands — "This way, John;
you desire the honest, straight up and down, independ
ent ticket — here it is ! Yes, sir, this is it !"
On entering the hall I found it crowded with people,
and cloudy with tobacco smoke. A little lane was
kept for voters passing from the door to the ballot-box
— the people forming the lane being for the most part
electioneering agents and others specially interested in
the election, all of them highly excited. The excite
ment was confined to the end of the room where the
electors passed in. As soon as they gave their votes
and passed through, they ceased to be objects of any
further interest, and either went away or lounged about
for a time, discussing the prospects of the election, and
adding their share to the tobacco smoke that filled the
room and the tobacco juice that dirtied the floor.
The place was not unlike a railway booking-office,
save that, instead of a ticket-box within the rail, there
was a counter with desks and slits for the voting-papers.
The routine in these polling-places is as follows : — The
elector, on entering, passes up to the counter. The
clerk asks his name, and checks it off upon the voting-
list before him, to make sure that the man is really a
voter, and to see that he does not vote twice. This
done, the man drops his voting-paper into the ballot-
box and passes on.
I observed that most of the voters used the party
coloured tickets that were being distributed at the door,
making no concealment of how their votes went. Some
of them, however, took their pencils and altered one
or more of the names. Paper and envelopes lay ready
2G4 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
for any who might wish to keep their votes secret.
I saw no one avail himself of this right while I was
in ; but the right is recognised, and is deemed of vital
importance.
I spoke to one of the men who had tickets for dis
tribution, and got him to show me the list and tell me
something about the different candidates.
" Of course/' he said, " if there are any men here you
don't want, you can scratch them out," and as he spoke
he ran my pencil through one or two of the names.
"Who is that you're scratching out?" said a man
fiercely, stepping close up.
" I am only explaining our system," said the other.
"Ah! I guess we're pretty well posted up in that,"
said the man, and turned away.
With this single exception, though there was a good
deal of excitement in the room and about the door,
everything went on pleasantly, and without the least
disturbance or confusion. I only saw one drunk man
all the time I remained, and even he was not so drunk
as to be either boisterous or incapable of taking care of
himself.
There was more excitement in the evening, especially
round the newspaper offices, where crowds were gathered
to see the bulletins that were continually coming in,
announcing the result of the election in other parts of
the State. As soon as it was known that the Republi
can, and therefore the Prohibition party, was defeated,
liquor dealers, without waiting for the anticipated
change in the law, began at once to open their bars
and grog-shops. So instantly is the public decision for
good or for evil accepted in America as the practical
law of the land.
WENDELL PHILLIPS ON PEOHIBITION. 265
Meeting Wendell Phillips a day or two after, I asked
him what he thought of the vote.
" We have gone back a step this week/' he said, " but
after a little experience of license or free trade in drink
we shall return to prohibition."
I asked him how far it was the case, as was alleged,
that the mass of the temperance people were in favour
of license.
" So far from that," he replied, " four-fifths of them
are prohibitionists, and the remaining fifth are opposed
only because they look on this as a purely moral ques
tion, and do not wish the law to interfere."
I mentioned that the Mayor had said that a prohibi
tory law could not be enforced.
"Did he?" said Phillips grimly, "well, if the Mayor
cannot execute our laws, we shall try to invent some
one who can."
"You think then that this law could be enforced?"
" I will answer your question in this way," he replied ;
" When you have a set of men like our City Council,
who have been elected for the express purpose of not
enforcing a law, and who make no attempt to enforce
it, that is no proof that the law cannot be enforced.
" You will do well," he added, " to remember two
things. First of all there is $30,000,000 worth of pro
perty in this city of Boston interested in the liquor
traffic. This represents, directly or indirectly, about
15,000 votes that can always be counted on in favour
of repealing or evading prohibitory laws. With these
15,000 voters mixed up with all parties, and that im
mense amount of money playing into the hands of the
dangerous classes, it has been possible for the last
twenty years for that party (in this city, not in the
266 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
State) to hold the balance of power. The consequence
is that the government of Boston has only been a stand
ing committee of its grog-shops. The Mayor and
Aldermen were nominated and supported by the grog-
selling interest, on the understanding that they should
not see a grog-shop. This, sir, is the result of our city
politics, educated by thirty millions of capital. Notice,"
he said, " another thing. Here the liquor interest is
fighting for a license law. Well, in New York they
have a license law, but they are fighting it down just as
the same interest here is fighting down prohibition.
What they all want is free trade in drink. What they
are opposed to is not mere prohibition, but any check
whatever on the sale of liquor."
It was during my first visit to Boston, in November
1868, that Charles Dickens was on his way to America
to make a reading-tour through the States. The public
excitement had already begun. When I went down
one morning to Ticknor and Fields' publishing house,
in Tremont Street, I was astonished, and at first alarmed,
to find a vast crowd gathered in front of the building.
My first impression was that there had either been a
fire or a murder, but on making my way into the crowd,
and asking a policeman, he said it was Dickens' tickets
being sold. I had to get myself smuggled in by a back
way, and on going up to Mr. Fields' room found him
standing at the window, like the chief of a besieged
castle, looking down with a perplexed air upon the
mob.
" I never saw anything like this," he said, " since
Jenny Lind was here. If I had anticipated such a
blockade, I should have arranged for the tickets being
DICKENS IN AMERICA. 267
sold elsewhere." All other business, of course, was at
a stand-still.
When I left I had to make my way out through the
crowd, and many, thinking that I had been in getting a
ticket, began to bid liberally.
" Dollar and a half for your ticket !" cried one — (a
dollar and a quarter being the price advertised). " Two
dollars — two and a half ! three dollars !" and so on, till
I had made my escape.
But the eagerness for tickets was nothing in Boston
to what I found it some weeks later in New York.
Tickets, mostly in the hands of speculators, were selling
at ten, fifteen, and even twenty dollars. People gathered
at the office where tickets were to be sold as early as
four o'clock on the winter mornings, though the office
was not to be opened till nine. The common practice
in New York — a practice we very much want copied
here — is, in such cases (as well as at meetings where a
crowd collects before the doors are open), for the people
to arrange themselves in single file, each new comer
taking his place at the back of the last. This prevents
crushing, and secures that those who come first get
first served, or get first in, as the case may be. It pre
vents rude men from coming and forcing their way in
by brute force past those who have entitled themselves
to first entry by being first there. The numbers that
gathered, on these cold December mornings to get a
good place in the line of ticket-purchasers, were so
great that the line sometimes extended from the door
of the office away down to the corner, along the cross
street, up the next, and away nobody knew where.
Sometimes persons who came too late wrould offer one,
two, or three dollars merely for a place in the line.
268 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS IN BOSTON.
Others, more sagacious, hired porters on the previous
ni^ht to take places next the door at three or four in
O 1
the morning — they themselves coming down at their
ease a few minutes before nine, after a comfortable
breakfast, and taking their proxies' places, greatly to
the envy of the long line of cold and hungry people
who had been there in person since five or six.
Dickens was offered $10,000, it is said, to go to
Chicago, but declined, and made no arrangements for
visiting that city at all. The result was interesting
and instructive. The Chicago papers, which had begun
to herald the great novelist's approach with a flourish
of trumpets, now discovered that the public were under
a great hallucination as to his powers ; that he had a
weak voice and was a very indifferent reader ; also, that
he had a brother's wife, with a large family, in Chicago,
whom he could make happy with a few thousand
dollars, but for whom he was heartlessly doing nothing.
I found scarcely anybody in that city with a good word
to say about him. If he had swindled the Government,
or run away with somebody's wife, they could have
forgiven him ; but to read in other cities than New
York and leave Chicago in the cold was an unpardon
able rock of offence.
Dickens made a large sum of money by his readings
in America ; but the speculators must have made more.
In Boston they bought up almost all the tickets for the
four courses the first morning, and then sold them at
twice, thrice, and (in one case that I knew of myself)
eight times the original cost. Tickets, however, never
rose to the prices realized for Jenny Lind's concerts.
Her tickets (also bought up by speculators) were sold
in many cases by auction. Knox, a hatter in New
DICKENS'S POPULARITY. 2G9
York, bidding against a wealthier man, paid $390 for
his ticket. It turned out a profitable investment, apart
altogether from the concert. People said, " Let us go
and see the hatter that paid $390 to hear Jenny Lind."
It was the making of Knox's fortune.
Dickens's presence in America gave an extraordinary
impulse to the sale and perusal of his books.1 On
the day after his arrival in New York, only two of
the 1900 volumes of his works in the Mercantile
Library were left in. His novels were selling by tens
of thousands, and were to be had at every stall and in
every steamer, ferryboat, and railway car. Dombey,
Nicholas Nicldeby, and David Copperfield were selling
at 14d. ; Pickwick at 10d., and American Notes at 4d.
of our money. There is no international copyright, and
reprints of British works can be sold there for little
more than the mere price of printing and paper. I
bought a beautiful edition of Tennyson's Poems, con
taining the whole of them, for half-a-crown.
1 The newspapers teemed with was not attending church, one
paragraphs about him— one of paper suggested that he might not
which is worth repeating. On its be interested in American politics !
being reported in Boston that he
270 AN EVENING WITH EMERSON.
• XX.
V
AN EVENING WITH EMERSON.
ACCORDING to arrangement, I met Emerson one
evening at the Parker House, to accompany him to
Roxbury (a suburb of Boston), to hear one of his public
lectures. We walked part of the way along Washing
ton Street, brilliant with its shop-lights, till the horse-
cars should overtake us — the philosopher, with charac
teristic homeliness, carrying his manuscript under his
arm, wrapped in a bit of newspaper. When the car
came up all the seats were occupied, so we had to
stand — no one rising to offer a seat to Emerson, either
because in the dim light he was not recognised, or
because, in that land of equality and fraternity, one
man is as good as another.
Leaving the omnibus at Eoxbury, we made our way
to the Mechanics' Institution, where the lecture was to
be delivered, and found the chairman waiting in the
ante-room. On the chairman asking what the subject
of lecture was to be, Emerson said he had brought two
lectures with him, and would take a look at the
audience before deciding which to give.
" Have you a good light falling on the desk ? " he
inquired ; " for if not I must trouble you to get a lamp.
I am an old man, and need light."
The hall was so crowded that I had to carry in a
ON THE PLATFORM. 271
chair for myself over the heads of the people. When
Emerson appeared there was some applause; but a
Scotchman misses in America the enthusiasm that in
this country would greet a man like Emerson.
The chairman having announced the subject for next
meeting, said, — " I have now the pleasure of intro
ducing, as the lecturer for this evening, Mr. Emerson."
This is the stereotyped form at all such meetings, and
the chairman has nothing else to do.
The gaunt man, simple and homely in his appear
ance, rose, took off his overcoat, laid it across the back
of a chair, took his place at the desk, and began to
adjust his manuscript, which (made up of sheets and
scraps of every size, age, and. hue) looked like a
handful of invoices taken from a merchant's file.
Let me try to convey an idea of his manner and
style. When he stood up, there was still some talking
amongst the audience, and movement of people coming
in. Emerson stood waiting, with head inclined, and
his calm, deep, thoughtful eyes passing dreamily over
the sea of faces, till there was perfect silence. Then
he began, — " The first lesson of Nature is perpetual
ascension." He paused, as if to let the key-note of his
lecture be distinctly caught. " There is a doctrine
among physicists," he began again, "that a pot of
earth may remain a hundred years the same ; but put
in a seed, and all is changed — not the seed only but
every atom of earth. Now, put a man into the world !"
he cried with sudden energy, " and see how soon that
great pot will lie changed !"
" Man," he resumed, falling back into the old tone,
"man brings in the element of Eeason. There goes
reason to the boiling of an egg, to the fighting of battles,
272 AN EVENING WITH EMERSON.
to the making of an alphabet. It is a long scale from
the gorilla to the gentleman — to Plato, to Aristotle, to
Shakespeare ! But there is always an accelerated
march. There are many kinds of men — men of horses
and guns, men of scrip and stock, men of dinners and
dancing-parties, men with power reaching as far as the
pop of a champagne cork, and then they are done.
But I want to see men of many thoughts — men like
Newton, like Columbus, like Copernicus ! Aristocracy
means truth and reality — doing what is elsewhere only
pretended to be done. The hero must be well-born —
must have the force of a hundred men in him. Douglas
can throw the bar a farther cast. Cceur de Leon can
slay more Saracens. . . . Heroes are they who can
serve themselves at a pinch. Homer's heroes (Achilles,
Agamemnon, and the rest) were of this make. Peter
the Great would learn to build ships. Napoleon said,
— ' If there is no gunpowder, I will manufacture it ; if
no gun-carriages, I will make them; if no bridge, I
will construct one.' Truly, a competent man, who,
throw him as you will, always fell upon his feet."
Emerson went on thus for an hour and a half — stand
ing at the desk, his thin piquant face full of kindly
light, and that " slow wise smile " continually stealing
over it. He speaks with great deliberation, and has
less fluency of utterance than is common with the
Americans ; but his hesitation never assumes the form
of a stammer, or causes any cessation of sound. He
will sometimes dwell upon a word as if gathering his
strength and then hurl out the next like a thunderbolt.
Once or twice, when he seemed anxious to impress his
thought upon the audience, the large hand that hung at
his side clenched itself and began to work convulsively,
HIS LECTURE. 273
jerking downwards as if stabbing some one at his knee ;
then suddenly, just as his thought exploded, the long arm
was flung out with the fingers clenched, and the great
thumb sticking up like the blade of a broken sword.
Let me give a few of the more memorable passages
of his lecture that night, and those most appreciated by
the audience : —
" I want the American," he said, " to be dipped in the
Styx of universal experience. The youth should learn to
row, to fish, to hunt, to camp in the woods, to work
equations. I happened to be at West Point once attend
ing an examination. After the examination was over, I
saw a bed rolled up. I said to the cadet, * Who jnakes
your bed V He said, 'I do.' ' Who cooks your food?'
' I do.' ' Who blacks your boots V ' I do.' Here was
the capable man, able to do for himself. — The man of
science must find out the cause of ill and the cure. We
must say — ' Mr. Professor of Entomology, can you tell us
what insect this is that has been destroying our fruit-trees
these eight years 1 If not, make way for one who can.'
... In the Swedish shipyards there was a rot in the
timber. The King sent for Linnaeus to examine it.
Linnaeus found in it an insect which laid its eggs in April.
He said, ' Let the logs be kept submerged from March till
May.' It was done, and the rot ceased."
" The fame truly attaches to the man who thinks, not to
those who make money of it. The man who thinks is the
king; all else are journeymen. The mob cheers the
publisher, not the inventor, — they do not see the house in
plan. But when it makes ten, twenty, fifty per cent, they
say, ' It is the voice of God ! '"
" From a ferry-boat one day, a friend pointed out to me
how, iu houses, convenience has been sacrificed to elegance.
I am fond of books, and I suffer in houses from want of
light. The chandeliers are hung high — are no better for
old eyes than moonshine. There is a want here of common
VOL. II. S
274 AN EVENING WITH EMERSON.
sense. The English do not fail in this. They are
renowned for common sense. Montesquieu thought the
true article was not to be found out of that island. . . .
In India, the Duke of Wellington sent guides to find a
ford for his troops. They said, ' There is none nearer
than so many miles above.' The Duke said, * Here is a
town on this side, there is a town on that side, there must
be a ford here ! ' — and took his men across. So Lord
Palmerston, when he was asked by the city of Edinburgh
to proclaim a fast because of the cholera, made reply,
4 Clean out your drains ! ' The English rush to practical
measures : they tolerate no flights of oratory : they
demand facts ending in a policy and vote. — I like to see
the singing and the dancing-master penetrating into the
prairie ! It is nothing in itself : but the more piano the less
wolf ; the more of dancing-master the less of bear and
wilderness. . . . Morality is the object of government —
not democracy or monarchy, but a state of things in which
crime shall not pay"
One does not listen long to Emerson without feeling
that, though an impressive speaker, he is more of a
Thinker than an Orator. He is himself interested
deeply in his subject ; but often his interest seems more
that of one looking at his own thought than of one who
has to impress his thought upon others. In this one
sees the student, the man of books and solitary habits.
In so far as he speaks to the audience, he is curt,
aphoristic, oracular. There is no reasoning, no explain
ing, no bridging the gaps for little feet or unaccustomed
limbs ; the giant hurls his stepping-stones into the
river-bed and strides across, seldom looking back to see
if you can follow. Hence the impression he leaves of
being fragmentary, incoherent, difficult to follow. " If
you blow your nose," said one gentleman, " you may lose
him and never be able to pick him up again the whole
TABLE-TALK. 275
night." I think it was the Marquis of Lome who com
pared one of Emerson's lectures to a number of proposi
tions written on separate pieces of paper, shaken up
in a hat, and read just as they happened to come out !
And yet there is an indescribable power about this
man which attracts large audiences wherever he goes,
and sends every listener away richer than he came, if
only by so many splinters of glittering ore. That night
a few in the audience were listless — one or two even
asleep — before the philosopher was done ; but the mass
of the people listened with steady attention to the close,
though with what comprehension of the subject it
would be difficult to say. As we were dispersing, I
asked a man beside me what he thought of the lecture.
" Why/' said he, " I suppose it 's very fine, because
it is Emerson ; but darned if I know what it 's been
all about." Others were full of enthusiasm about it
— having, let us hope, a deeper apprehension of its
meaning.
We returned to Boston together, and spent the rest
of the evening at the Union Club. Longfellow was
there ; old Dana, the poet, with his snow-white hair
and patriarchal look; Oliver Wendell Holmes, sprightly,
nervous, and lively; Lowell, with his classic head, brown
curling beard and moustache, and hyacinthine locks ;
Hayes, the Arctic voyager, small, black-haired, with
quick dark eye and resolute face ; Agassiz, big, jovial,
and ruddy ; and Fields, the publisher, with one or two
of his partners.
Speaking to Emerson about lecturers in America, he
said, — " Gough can draw vast audiences all over the
country, and command his price — $200 or $250 a night.
Curtis is a fine speaker. Henry Ward Beecher is a
276 AN EVENING WITH EMERSON.
flame of fire. Wendell Phillips is the man who has
most power of bringing others at the moment to think
with him. People go to hear him who detest his ideas,
and come away applauding. I envy Phillips. I have
often asked him about his method, but have got nothing
satisfactory out of him. Every man should learn when
young to arrange his ideas with rapidity, and express
them without confusion. It is a rare and most valu
able accomplishment."
Speaking of Education in America and this country,
he said, — " The Americans read more and are more
extensively educated than your people." He scouted the
idea that education made people dissatisfied with humble
life. "People look," he said, "to what makes bread.
A man will rather live as a storekeeper than starve as
a doctor."
Of the agitation against the Liquor Laws which was
going on in Boston at the time, he said, — " I voted
against Prohibition. I never touch the freedom of the
individual when it can possibly be helped. No doubt
there are men who cannot keep from drink, and when
a poor woman comes to a bar-keeper and says, — ( My
husband is a good, kind man except when he gets
drink, and then he becomes a brute ; may I vex you
not to let him have any;' and still the bar-keeper sells
it to him, one feels as if he would like a law to prevent
him. But this is only part of the question. We must
find some -other way of working. I am a fanatic for
individual liberty."
Eeferring to British politics and the Eeform Bill
which had passed, he said, — " It is a wise step. It has
probably averted revolution. Your Government lasts
because it has learned to bend when it would otherwise
break."
MEMORANDA. 277
The case of Governor Eyre was exciting attention at
the time. Emerson expressed his astonishment that
Thomas Carlyle should have taken the Governor under
his wing, and wanted to know what was thought of it
in this country. He did not believe that men like
Tennyson, Ruskin, and Kingsley would have mixed
themselves up with the affair had Caxlyle not led the
way. He thought Carlyle was losing himself.
He asked about Stirling — "the Scotch Hegelian,"
as he called him. He had read his book. Stirling was
an able man, and had good metaphysical insight. His
work was " good gymnastics." He spoke of Robertson
of Brighton, and was anxious to know what influence
his sermons were producing on the popular theology.1
Emerson has been a public man now for over forty
years. He was ordained pastor of a Unitarian Church
in Boston in the year 1829, but resigned his charge
two years after, because, like the Quakers, he believed
the Lord's Supper to be a thing of inward commun
ion, and to be sensualized by the presentation of
actual bread and wine. Four years later he married
his second wife and went to reside at Concord, a little
1 Emerson's own theological posi- bones of the past, or put the living
tion may be inferred from the fol- generation into masquerade out of
lowing passages from his lectures its faded wardrobe ? The sun shines
and books : — " Our age is retro- to-day also. There are new lands,
spective ; it builds the sepulchre of new men, new thoughts. Let us
the fathers. Foregoing generations demand our own works and laws and
beheld God face to face ; we through worship." And again : — " Alone in
their eyes. Why should not we history Christ estimated the great-
also enjoy our original relation to ness of man. Christ said, 'I am
the universe ? Why should not we divine. Through me God acts :
have a poetry and philosophy of through me speaks. Would you
insight, and not of tradition : and a see God, see me ; or see thee when
religion by revelation to us, and not thou also thinkest as I (the Christ)
a history of theirs? Embosomed now think.' Churches are built not
for a season in nature, . . . why on Christ's principles but on His
should we grope among the dry tropes."
278 AN EVENING WITH EMERSON.
town about seventy miles out from Boston. It is said
that when his wife wanted the children baptized,
Emerson said, — "When we find a man who is as good as
they are I shall not object." When Channing went to
Concord, Emerson said, — " This is the man," and the
children were baptized. He lives in comparative seclu
sion, thinking and reading. He is a devout student of
nature, loves to hold silent cornmunipn with her, and
draws to those who are engaged in exploring her
mysteries. He and Agassiz are great friends. They
look at nature from different sides, but the facts and
the spiritual meanings of nature reflect and glorify
each other. Emerson is often in Boston, and never fails
on such occasions to find his way to Fields' publishing
house in Tremont Street, which is the great rendezvous
for literary men in " the Hub." During the winter he
is much engaged in lecturing. But he is now turning
an old man, is neither so able nor so willing as he once
was to bear the fatigue of travelling, and every season
brings with it fears that he will not appear on the plat
form again. To me his appearance suggested no reason
why he should not go on for ten years more, just as he
has done for the ten years past. But Americans, when
they get to a certain age, especially if they shave smooth
as Emerson does, never seem as if they were growing
older. Moreover, there is a childlikeness about Emer
son that keeps him even younger in nature than he is
in appearance. In manner he is quiet, cordial, un
affected, with a freshness of sympathy that makes it
impossible not to love as well as admire him. In his
society one becomes conscious of his genius without
humiliation. It steals round one like the morning light,
giving a sense of pure enjoyment.
NEW ENGLAND. 279
XXL
NEW ENGLAND.
TEAVELLING through New England, with its busy
centres of population, its white towns and villages, its
white churches, and its numberless white farm-houses
specking the landscape, the eye is delighted with the
evidence of universal comfort and prosperity.
This prosperity is certainly not owing to her soil. I
had no idea that the land there was so barren. In
some districts the soil looked so thin and the ground
so rocky that I began to believe the story about the
sheep that had to get their noses sharpened to let them
reach the blades of grass between the stones. It was
a continual source of wonder to come in such regions
upon so many beautiful farm-houses and flourishing
villages and towns. But the people are active and
thrifty ; they labour with their own hands and waste
nothing, are great in manufacture, full of ingenuity and
resource, and wring not only competence but wealth
out of the reluctant hand of nature.
In some places I looked about in vain for any people
wearing the appearance of our working and labouring
classes at home. At Lawrence, where 35,000 girls are
employed in the mills, I saw thousands of them at their
looms, but could scarcely realize that this was their
daily and hourly avocation. From the neatness of
280 NEW ENGLAND.
their attire, from their genteel appearance, their man
ners, and their thoughtful and intelligent looks, I should
have taken them to be young ladies of the middle class
who had merely come to try their hands as amateurs.
I could not but contrast them with the poor mill-girls
in our cities whom we see at meal hours swarming
along the streets, bareheaded and often barefooted even
in wet and frosty weather. These girls at Lawrence
and Lowell earn from eight to ten and a half dollars a
week — an average of about thirty shillings — of which
they pay about a third for board, in the comfortable
houses provided for them. They live well, dress well,
and yet accumulate money in the Savings' Bank. As
much as 28,500 dollars was banked by the Lawrence
girls on one monthly pay-day. They are all educated.
Many of them continue to attend evening classes, and
some of them take lessons in French and music. They
have a library and free reading-room at the mill. I
went into one of their libraries, and found a catalogue
of 5000 books — 1500 of which were out. In the read
ing-room I found all the principal papers, one of them
French. To see these girls coming in thousands from
the mills at six o'clock, many of them with books in
their hands, you wrould imagine them to be a congrega
tion of young ladies coming from a meeting. One
visitor who went to see this sight waited till the stream
was past, and then said, " But where are the mill-girls ? "
I was struck with this superiority in the condition
and status of the working classes all over New Eng
land. Speaking of it one day to a friend in Northamp
ton, Massachusetts, he took me to his window, and
said, pointing across the road, " Do you see that white
house among the trees ? "
FARMERS. 281
I looked, and saw a genteel-looking house, with its
green lattices, its verandah adorned with creeping
plants, and its orchard.
" That belongs to the blacksmith," said my friend.
"He owns his house and occupies it. He shoes my
horses, and lives there like a gentleman — as he is."
" Do you see that house beyond ? " he continued ; " that
one with the large portico ? There the carpenter stays ;
and the house and all that ground where you see the
trees are his own. If there are any repairs to be at
tended to about my blinds, or shutters, or woodwork
anywhere, he conies and attends to them. He is a
working-man, a labourer, and yet a gentleman. Labour
here is honourable, and the man who can turn his hand
to most things generally gets on best, and at least always
can get on."
He told me that when a lady friend from the South
was on a visit to him, he said he would drive her to
Hatfield, and show her where their labourers lived.
On the way over he said, "What do you expect to see ?"
She said she understood the houses were better than
most of their negro cabins in the South. " Well," said
he, " you shall judge." He drove her across the beauti
ful Connecticut Valley, and entered Hatfield by a broad
street with long rows of elms, and with neat white
houses on both sides, surrounded with orchards. The
lady called his attention to some of these as they passed,
admiring their elegance. " By the way," said he, when
they got to the end of the street, " I forgot to tell you
that these are the labourers' houses ! "
There can be no doubt that the condition of this
class is very much better in America than with us,
where the vast mass of the agricultural population hold
282 NEW ENGLAND.
their houses and farms at the will of another. The
smallest farmer in New England is independent. His
house and land is his own. He is beholden to no one.
He keeps his own horse, his cow, and his pigs ; draws
the manure over his own fields ; plants and reaps his
own corn ; digs and hoes his own turnips and potatoes.
Moreover, he is educated and well-informed, and his
children are all at school. He reads the papers ; he
has the current literature of the day on his table ; he
knows what Gladstone and Disraeli are about here ; he
keeps himself well acquainted with home politics ; he
has a vote and knows what to do with it ; and can get
up in the township meetings and express himself intel
ligently if occasion calls for it. These are the men who
form the stamina and moral strength of the common
wealth.
The manners of these people would astonish those
who have formed their notions of the Americans from
the laughable pictures in Martin CTiuzzlewit — pictures
inimitable in themselves, but representing in some re
spects a state of things as far back in the brief history
of America as tattooing is in ours. Of course it has to
be remembered that America is a Bepublic, and that
the manners of even the poorest class are framed on the
Eepublican model, and assume equality. The man in
America who grooms your horse must not be considered
your inferior on that account. He is simply a fellow-
citizen who has undertaken to look after your interests
in the stable, as a lawyer would undertake to look after
your interests in court, or a broker to transact your
business in the market. If you forget this, and order
the man about in the same tone as you would a dog, he
is likely enough to resent the insult exactly as the
POLITENESS TO LADIES. 283
lawyer or the broker would, or as you would yourself, if
any one employed that tone to you. In such a case,
accustomed as you are to the deferential manner and
ready obedience of servants at home, you consider the
man rude and impertinent. But, on the Eepublican
theory of equality, it is you and not the man who have
violated the laws of good-breeding by forgetting that
you are speaking to an American citizen, and therefore
(by hypothesis) a gentleman.
The tone of command in which many Englishmen
are accustomed to address servants is peculiarly ob
noxious to Americans ; and is one reason for the
unpopularity of Englishmen in the States, and the
impressions they often receive of American rudeness.
No one is readier than an American working man to
shock your self-importance and make what is vulgarly
called " small potatoes " of you, if you address him in
an imperious tone, or assume airs of superiority. But,
on the other hand, you rarely meet any one more ready
to oblige if his assistance is politely asked. Of course
there are rude and vulgar people amongst them as there
are amongst ourselves, and of all vulgar people p'erhaps
vulgar Americans are the most unbearable ; but the
charge of rudeness often brought against the Americans
as a people is a calumny.
Their extraordinary politeness to the softer sex has
been already referred to. A lady in America may
traverse the whole continent alone without the slightest
fear of insult or annoyance; and will find special
accommodation awaiting her at every point. In the
large hotels, she will find a private entrance for ladies,
and the handsomest rooms in the whole place reserved
for them. In the river steamers she will find herself,
284 NEW ENGLAND.
without asking for it, furnished with one of the berths
furthest aft, so that in the event of an explosion she
may have the best chance of escape. On the railways
she will find a ladies' car, furnished more luxuriously
than the others ; and in ordinary cars or public con
veyances of any description, she will find the roughest-
looking man ready, without being asked, to rise and
give her a seat. If she enters a strange church and
stops at any pew she will find not one but all the gen
tlemen in it insisting upon getting up to let her in.
All over the continent, as a general rule, she will find
American men her obedient servants.
Perhaps the Americans carry this too far ; but it
says something for them that, under circumstances
hitherto unfavourable to high refinement, and under a
form of government which is supposed to convert might
into right, the stronger sex should have shown more
deference to the weaker than is found in the nations
that pride themselves most upon their gallantry and
high breeding.
The New Englanders have less suavity of manner
than the people of the South, and less frankness than
the men of the West, but in many respects they are
more refined than either — swear less, drink less, chew
less — while they exhibit the same ease of manner and
address, the same deference to ladies, and the same
open-handed hospitality to strangers.
In acuteness and intellectual force, they probably
stand first. Nothing astonishes one more in New
England than her busy intellectual life ; her schools
crowded with minute philosophers ; her farms and
factories teeming with mechanical invention ; Harvard,
Yale, and Andover rearing leaders of thought for the
BEAIN. 285
new generation. While the South has been growing
cotton and tobacco, and the West has been growing
food for half the world, sterile New England has been
growing brain. These teeming little States, crowded
together in a mere corner of the vast Eepublic, are still
its brain and spiritual centre, from whence the ideas
have gone forth that are making America what she is.
It was to resist the invasion of New England ideas
that the South took arms in 1861. But those ideas
flashing from 500,000 Northern bayonets won the day,
and are now beginning to mould the South as they
have already moulded the Great West.
286 BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES.
XXII
BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES.
EVERYBODY has heard of that exhaustive treatise on
the Snakes of Iceland, which consists of the following
six words : — " There are no snakes in Iceland."
One would imagine, on looking over American news
papers, that the same brief formula might be employed
to dispose of the subject of births in America. In that
corner of the page sacred in this country to hatches,
matches, and despatches, and to which the fair sex
turn first, as instinctively as a merchant turns to
the markets, the American papers enter deaths and
marriages, but no births. I am not prepared to say
why. It is a deep subject. Some refer the fact to that
prudery which speaks of roosters, and is supposed to
speak of gentlemen-cows, and the limbs of a table.
A New York friend was rather disposed to account for
it in this way, — That the native Americans have no
births to record ; that the Irish have so many that the
papers could not hold them all ; and that other nation
alities dare not be represented if the Irish are kept out.
Whatever the true explanation be, the fact remains.
But if the papers exclude births they make up for
the loss of material by expanding the death column
with comments upon the life and character of the
deceased, and the grief of surviving relatives. The
OBITUARY NOTICES. 287
announcement that Ezekiel Jefferson died on such a
day, at such a place, will be followed by several
dolorous lines, beginning —
" Alas ! poor Zeky 's gone at last ;
His pain is o'er, his anguish past."
I copied the following one day from the obituary list
in the Philadelphia Ledger (Jan. llth, 1868). It is
a mere specimen of what appears in thousands of
American papers every day : —
" On the 7th instant, Mrs. , wife of John , in
the 57th year of her age.
Our mother is dead, laid in her clay,
Which loudly calls to us to-day,
And bids us all to dry our tears,
For mother rests from all her cares.
Dear mother rest in sweet repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes."
To which was appended the following verse, which
seems to be a favourite, as it occurred thrice in that
same obituary list after as many different names :—
" Oh, weep not for her, 'tis unkindness to weep,
Her weary, weak body has fallen asleep ;
No more the fond tie of affection she knows ;
Oh, weep not ; oh ! break not that gentle repose.
Gone, but not forgotten."
To a notice of a boy's death was said to be appended
the touching remark, — " Our little Jacob has been taken
from this earthly garden to bloom in a superior flower
pot above."
The obituary comments sometimes introduced are
less poetical than these, but more practical.
The Christian Index added to the announcement of
the death of a clergyman the following touching and at
the same time suggestive piece of information : — "He was
288 BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES.
a father in the Church; he supported our distinctive
principles warmly ; was a faithful reader of the Index,
and for several years paid for three copies in advance."
Another paper, after the announcement — " On the
1 7th, John S. B — , much regretted/' added, " He was
diligent in business, serving the Lord. The large dry
goods' store, corner of Main and Walnut Street, was
entirely the creation of his industry, and will hence
forth be carried on by his bereaved sons." 1
The funeral customs in America vary in different
States and amongst different sects. But in New
England the common practice is to have the room in
which the body is laid adorned with flowers, — wreaths
of which are laid upon the coffin. Many of these are
sent by the friends. When the deceased is a child, the
body is laid in a casket strewed with flowers within,
and the room is adorned more gaily. When the hour for
the service has arrived, the family come down-stairs, the
friends assemble, look at the body, and talk in whispers.
The service is begun by the minister reading a few
verses from the Bible and offering up a short prayer,
after which he gives an account of the life and death
1 The following, cut from an shully in the wate of makerel, wich
American paper, is therefore but a wos always nice and smelt sweat,
slight improvement upon fact :— and his survivin wife is the same
"James Bangus, we are sorry to way. We niver new him to put
stait, has decesed. He departed sand in his suger, though he had a
this last Mundy. He went 4th with- big sand bar in front of his house ;
out any struggle, and sich is life. nor water in his lickers, tho the
To-day, we are as pepper grass ; Ohio river past his door. Piece tu
to-morrer, we are kut down like a his remanes. He leves 1 wife, 9
cowcumber. James kept a nice children, 1 kow, 4 horses, a grow-
store, which his wife now waits on. cer's store, and other quodrupeds
His virchews wos numerous, and to moorn his loss. But in the lan-
his wife inherits them. We are gwidge off the poit, his loss is thare
happy to stait to the admiring eturnal gane."
wurld that he never cheeted, spe-
RITUAL. 289
of the deceased, concluding with another short prayer
for family and friends. The mourners then look at the
body for the last time and proceed to the carriages,
while the coffin is closed and carried to the hearse.
No liquor or refreshment of any kind is used.
The whole family (males and females) attend the
funeral. Mourning attire is not considered essential.
Everybody dresses " quietly ;" but at half the funerals
in Boston no mourning is put on, even by the family of
the deceased. The tendency is to diminish the gloom
connected with the rites of sepulture, and suggest the
idea that death is simply the passage from one life to
another.
In other parts of America mourning is more common ;
and on the occasion of Mr. Lincoln's death in 1865, the
cities and towns all over the North were literally loaded
with black — a spectacle of mourning probably without
a parallel in history. Within three hours of the
arrival of the news in each city, the warehouses and
stores were emptied of every kind of sable cloth — black
silk and black velvet being bought up when nothing
else was to be had. Thousands of ladies cut down even
their black dresses and did them up into mourning-
festoons, that every window and door might be hung
with the drapery of woe.
Some sects have more elaborate funeral rites than
those I have described as prevailing in Boston, while
others dispense with ceremonies altogether. The
Eoman Catholics and Episcopalians have their usual
service at the grave ; but, on the other hand, the
Shakers, who have no belief in a material resurrection,
and regard the body as nothing but the worthless
and cast-off garment of the spirit, bury it uncere-
VOL. II. T
290 BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES.
moniously in the fields, and rake the earth over it so as
to obliterate all traces of where it has been laid. They
look upon graveyards, tombstones, and epitaphs much
as we look upon the practice of those savages who bury
a warrior with his bow and arrows, and some food at
his side.1
The marriage customs in America vary as much as
those connected with funerals. In wealthy and well-
to-do circles, a marriage is generally made the occasion
of an extraordinary display, and, as Donald said dole
fully of his wife's funeral, "it is accompanied with
a fery considerable dale of expense." It has been
reckoned that in Chicago a wedding costs, on the
average, about $5000.
The number of invitations sometimes issued is
enormous. A wedding to which fifty or a hundred
guests are asked is a very small affair — " a one-horse
wedding," to use the Western phraseology. From
three to five hundred invitations is common ; a thou
sand not remarkable. A Miss Whitney was married
in Boston shortly before my first visit. The invitations
issued for the ceremony and reception numbered 3000,
and her wedding gifts in silver alone were valued at
$10,000. There is a golden circle in New York in
which even that would probably be reckoned a " one-
horse wedding."
At these great wedding parties the house swarms with
guests for two or three hours — the guests coming and
1 The Catholics charge the Presby- the dead. man to the grave, consists
terians with almost equal disrespect of three brief sentences : — " Tak'
for the dead. They say the Scotch him oot," " Put him in," " Cover
ritual, when the hearse has brought him up."
MARRYING IN THE TRAIN. 291
going as they please. They are never all there at once,
and many of those who are invited do not or cannot
come. This is always taken into account. A friend
in Brooklyn told me that if all the people invited to
his wedding had come, they would not only have
crammed the house from top to bottom, but there
would require to have been fifty or sixty of them on
the roof and fourteen up each chimney.
In fashionable circles in the South, it is usual to hold
the festivities in apartments from which the daylight is
excluded, probably because, in the blaze of innumerable
lamps, the scene looks more enchanting, and the jewelled
beauty of the ladies shines to greater advantage. In
marriage, however, as in everything else, the Americans
hold themselves free to dispense with demonstrations,
if they please. The law does not demand proclamation
of banns, and as the marriage may be celebrated at any
time or place either by a minister or a Justice of the
Peace, people pressed for time sometimes avail them
selves of the facilities thus open to them.
It is told of an engine-driver in the State of Maine,
that, not being able to spare a day, he got the minister
and his bride to start with him on the engine, and had
the ceremony performed while the train was running.
Another case, of which I knew something personally,
was that of a wealthy Pennsylvanian contractor, who,
when he had everything ready for a European tour,
suddenly reflected that he might as well take a wife
with him. He drove off to a friend's house, and, with
out any circumlocution, proposed to one of the young
ladies, on the express condition that the marriage should
take place that day, and that she should be ready to
start with him that night to catch the Cunard steamer
292 BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES.
next day at New York. He said he would give her ten
minutes to decide while he drove on to his banker's.
He found her, on his return, ready to accept his offer.
They drove with her father and brother to a magistrate's
office, had the ceremony performed at once, and were
off to New York by the first train.
There is a delightful way of welcoming a married
pair back from their tour, common in some parts of
America. On the day being ascertained when the
couple are to be home, a host of friends, especially the
young folks of both sexes, take possession of the house,
adorn it with flowers, and have everything prepared to
receive the home-comers. When the pair arrive, they
meet with a tumultuous welcome, and are entertained
at their own table to a feast of their friends' providing.
These are called " Surprise parties." Sometimes a
minister returning from his furlough is welcomed back
in the same way.
The celebration of marriage anniversaries on the fifth,
twenty-fifth, and fiftieth return of the wedding-day, is
very common in New England, if husband and wife are
both alive and living together. At these celebrations
friends assemble at the house, and generally bring pre
sents with them — the presents increasing in the value
of their material according to the length of time that
has elapsed since the knot was tied. The fifth anniver
sary is called the wooden wedding, and the invitations
are often- issued on wooden cards, thin as paper, and
beautifully ornamented. The presents suitable to this
anniversary are of wood. A desk will do, a wooden
trencher, or paper-cutter, will be accepted, and a work-
stand or cabinet will not come amiss. The twenty-
fifth anniversary is the silver wedding, when silver
AWKWARD MISTAKE. 293
toothpicks, forks, spoons, fruit-knives, cake -baskets,
and so forth, are in demand. The fiftieth anniversary
is the golden wedding ; and if the happy couple reach
the seventy- fifth year of connubial bliss, there is a dia
mond wedding ; but this occurs too rarely to bring much
extra trade to the jewellers. Some people have what
they call a sugar wedding on the first anniversary, and
a tin wedding on the fifteenth ; but these are not " on
the card."
The marriage-fee in America, when a clergyman
officiates, varies in amount according to the wealth and
generosity of the party paying it. The amount to which
the clergyman is entitled by law seems to vary in differ
ent States. In Virginia it is two dollars and a half ;
in Massachusetts one dollar and a quarter (about 5s. of
our money at present rates) ; but they say that even
the poorest mechanic will generally give five dollars ;
while people in more affluent circumstances give twenty,
forty, or fifty. One fashionable clergyman in New York
said he had repeatedly got 100 dollars in gold, — £20 of
our money.
It is not considered polite, however, for the clergy
man to look how much he has got till he reaches home,
when he hands the fee to his wife, whose perquisite it
is supposed to be. This practice of slipping the fee
into his hand quietly sometimes leads to mistakes.
One gentleman, on the occasion of his daughter's
marriage, had written out two checks, one for the
clergyman, the other as a parting-gift to the bride ;
but, by mistake, put the checks into the wrong hands.
When the bride, on her journey, got an opportunity of
peeping into hers, she thought the paternal injunction
to use it wisely was scarcely worth giving, with a trifle
294 BIRTHS, DEATHS, AND MARRIAGES.
not sufficient to buy a new dress ; while the clergyman,
on going home, was enchanted to find that his services
were thought worthy of so munificent a recompense as
$5000. Suspecting, with a modesty which, in some
minds, may throw doubt upon the story, that there
must be some mistake, he called upon the bride's
father, when matters were explained and rectified.
At another wedding, at Detroit, the bridegroom,
when called upon for a song, put his hand into his
waistcoat pocket, and said, amidst applause, that he
would give them a new version of the popular song of
"Ho, yo, Billy Barlow." On producing the slip of
paper, he found that instead of a cutting from a news
paper it was the ten- dollar bill which he thought he
had given to the minister. It was a capital joke for
the company, but how the clergyman and his wife
looked when, instead of a nice little sum to help them
through with their marketing, they found a new version
of "Ho, yo, Billy Barlow," no special correspondent
was present to record.
JOHN B. GOUGH. 295
XXIII.
JOHN B. GOUGH.
SOME fourteen or fifteen years ago, when I was a lad
at college, I remember one night struggling into the
densely- crowded City Hall in Glasgow to hear the
American orator, J. B. Gough, deliver one of his lectures
on Intemperance. When he came timidly upon the
crowded platform in rear of the portly chairman, he did
not look like one from whom much was to be expected.
I was so far back in the hall that I could not make him
out very well ; but he looked a weakly man, with a
thin face that answered the account given of him in
the pamphlets that were selling amongst the audience
— as one who had wrecked himself in youth by a wild
career of dissipation.
During the chairman's introductory remarks Gough
sat sideways in his chair, twining his hands nervously
round one another, as if he felt bashful and ill at ease.
But when he rose and came forward to the front of
the platform and began to speak, I remember how the
tone and music of that wonderful voice began to thrill
me, how the orator kindled to his work, carried the
vast audience with him, and after a speech of two
hours, sent them away in a glow of enthusiasm about
the cause he had pleaded so well. Probably many who
296 JOHN B. GOUGH.
read this have similar recollections of the stirring ap
peals with which during that tour through this country
Gough awoke the temperance sentiment of the masses.
After his departure little more was heard of him in
this country. Only now and then, at intervals of years,
some little paragraph finding its way into our papers
from some transatlantic source, showed that he was
still alive. But immediately on reaching America I
began to hear about Gough again, and found that he
had not only been before the public during all those
intervening years, but was still the most popular
lecturer in the States.
The first opportunity I had of hearing him again was
in the Cooper Institute, New York. When he came
upon the platform I was struck with the change which
fourteen years had made in his appearance. I re
membered him as a youngish-looking man, with bare
face and dark hair. There now stood before us a man
with long grey hair and heavy beard and moustache.
But as soon as he began to speak, the old voice rung
out clear and thrilling as ever, and he had not been
" orating " for five minutes before it was evident that
he was going to produce a powerful effect upon his
audience. His theme that night was the old subject
of intemperance. As he went on he became more and
more impassioned, exciting the people sometimes to
enthusiasm, sometimes to laughter, sometimes to tears.
His oratory is dramatic. He is the David Garrick
of the platform. Colonel Higginson said of him, that
he was not only an actor, but an entire dramatic com
pany, performing all the parts of the play, as the Iron
Duke at one time occupied, in his own person, half the
offices of the Cabinet.
HIS POPULARITY. 297
When he had spoken for more than an hour he
turned to the clock to see that he was not keeping the
audience beyond the time. This excited eager shouts
of " Go on, Gough, go on ! " When another half-hour
had fled, and he looked at the clock again, some one
cried, " Take away the clock ! " — a suggestion that was
received with loud cheers.
Gough's peroration that night was one that I had
heard him give in this country — Paul Benton's well-
known apostrophe to water, which he gave with amaz
ing power.
He has been a public lecturer now for twenty-eight
years. On the subject of intemperance alone he has
lectured more than 6000 times, to audiences reckoned
to include in the aggregate 5,000,000 of people. He
has been lecturing every winter during those twenty-
eight years, and almost every night of every winter ;
and it says something for the reality of his power, that
after so long and so severe an ordeal he remains to this
day the most popular lecturer of the kind in the United
States.
His popularity may be gauged by the increasing
amount paid to secure him. Twenty-five years ago he
got from one to five dollars for a lecture ; now he gets
from a hundred to three hundred and fifty. As the
Americans say, " Gough never needs to open his mouth
under $200." He was offered £500 sterling to go and
give a lecture in Chicago, but declined, because it
would take him so far from home.
His name in the syllabus of any society is said to be
a tower of strength, and to keep the minds of the com
mittee easy in regard to the whole course. If they lose
money on any of the others, they expect that John B.
298 JOHN B. GOUGH.
Gough will bring them a harvest of dollars sufficient to
cover all deficits.
His lectures on intemperance are still amongst his
best and most effective ; but more than half the
lectures he gives are on other subjects. Two especially
I heard spoken of — one on " London Life," in which he
hits off some of the peculiarities and foibles of the
English character ; the other on " Eloquence," in which
he introduces imitations of the different styles of
oratory, which one may suppose, from Gough's power
of mimicry, to be amusing enough.
It has been remarked, howrever, that whatever his
subject, he seeks, in dealing with it, to make people
not only happier, but better. He enjoys the character
of being himself a true man and a sincere Christian.
George H. Stuart of Philadelphia said he was astonished,
when travelling in this country, to find people believ
ing the slanders that had been circulated about Gough,
charging him with opium-eating and secret indulgence
in liquor. He said Gough had lived down these
calumnies in America long ago.
When the lecture season was over, I went to see
the orator at his home in New England. As it may
interest his friends on this side of the Atlantic to know
something of his home life, let me introduce part of a
letter written from the spot : —
" His conveyance was waiting for us at Worcester, and
drove us here, a distance of about five miles. A hearty
welcome awaited us, and showers of questions about friends
in Scotland — Mr. M'Gavin, Mr. Marr, Mr. Thomas Knox,
Mr. Logan, and many others, of whom Mr. and Mrs. Gough
seem to cherish a warm recollection.
" The house is called * Hillside.' It is pleasantly situ-
LOVES CHILDEEN. 299
ated upon a rising ground, with the little village of Boyl-
ston just below. The approach is through an avenue of
trees which Gough planted with his own hand some
sixteen or seventeen years ago.
" There is an air of home about the whole place that is
exceedingly pleasant. The house has grown with Gough' s
fortunes, and has had so many additions made to it that
there is a delightful bewilderment in trying to make your
way from one part of the house to another, and a pleasant
feeling, when you get peeps into so many cosy rooms, that
you are in the abode of one who loves to have his friends
about him.1
" Mr. and Mrs. Gough have no children of their own,
but they like to have the house filled with children's
voices, so they have several young nieces living with them,
all of them as lively as crickets. Gough himself is as
merry and light-hearted as any of them. At supper to
night he kept us in such convulsions of laughter with his
funny stories that there was no getting on with the business
of the table. He seems devotedly attached to the children,
and likes when we are sitting talking to have one of them
on each knee. Behind the house he has built a beautiful
gymnasium for them, a children's paradise for a wet day,
where they have swings suspended from the roof, and a
long floor where they can race and romp to their hearts'
content. Gough seems never happier than when he is
romping with them ; and when he has a game at nine
pins, along the side of the room, they vie with one another
1 He has a large and admirably it, and cuts out the illustrations to
selected library, on which he has add to his collection. They say he
spent and continues to spend a great has Cruickshank on the brain. But
deal of money. He has a special the first thing that strikes one on
taste for works illustrated by good looking at his bookcases is the taste
artists, and has the largest collec- and costliness of the bindings,
tion of these that I have seen in any Gough was a bookbinder himself
private library. He has such an at one time, and every book he
admiration for Cruickshank that gets must be bound in the best
wherever he finds another book style before being permitted to take
illustrated by that artist he buys its place in his cabinet.
300 JOHN" B. GOUGH.
who shall be smartest in rolling back the balls and setting
up the pins.
" Near the house, there is another wonderful building.
Perhaps I should call it an institution. It is a vast Hen
nery, with about 2000 fowls in it, and no end of pigeons.
I remember hearing once that John B. Gough had gone
into ' the Hen Speculation.' I didn't know exactly what
the hen speculation was, but I thought that on any hypo
thesis it was a queer business for a public orator to go
into. The explanation turns out to be that Mrs. Gough
has a great fondness for fowls, and that when the mania
for rare breeds was at its height she bought largely, and
found the sale of the eggs so profitable that this Hennery
was erected, a man got to take charge of it, and a regular
business established. Gough showed me through the place
this morning. It is a spacious building, with long galleries,
lined wi£h airy apartments for the fowls, which live in a
most genteel style, having their own little parlours and
bedrooms, and door-plates outside, with their technical
names upon them, and nothing wanting but door-bells or
little knockers to make the arrangements complete. Eng
lish \ Dorkings, silver Polands, black African bantams,
golden Polands, brown Leghorns, and Cochin China buffs,
all live in connubial bliss in separate suites of apartments ;
while in one elegant room with a balcony outside, an
aristocratic fowl, known as Madame La Feche, struts about
with the dignity becoming a lady whose eggs sell at
thirty-five shillings a dozen.
" Besides the Hennery there is a place for cattle, and a
garden, and an orchard, and several fields, all fenced and
nicely kept. The place was a wilderness when Gough
purchased it nearly twenty years ago. Now it blossoms
like the rose. It is a picture of the man himself, and of
what God has enabled him to do for many a wasted life.
" Here he spends the summer in quietness, refreshing
himself after his winter's work and preparing new lectures
for the next. Even during the busy season he tries to
spend his Sundays at home, and refuses engagements that
ILLUSTRATIONS OF HIS CHARACTER. 301
would keep him long away. He showed me a letter he
had from Mr. Moodie, of the Young Men's Christian
Association in Chicago, offering to engage him for eighty
nights a year, at $200 a night, for ten years! That's
how they do things in Chicago ! But Gough said it
would keep him from home during the winter, and re
fused it.
" To-night I got a sight of a curious record of his life —
two huge scrap-books, in which Mrs. Gough has preserved
all the newspaper reports of his lectures, etc., since he
began his public career. One of the first is a notice of
him as a young mechanic, who made a good speech at a
meeting. This was in 1842. In 1843 he had begun
lecturing, and had been paid $3 for three addresses, being
at the rate of 4s. a piece. During the year 1844 he
delivered 383 speeches, which yielded him an income of
only $720. During 1866, he delivered 162 lectures, and
his income has risen to $28,500. He gets as many en
gagements as he can take, and had to refuse about 1100
last year. He takes an honest pride in looking back and
marking the steps of his progress."
There is one thought that seemed to me to cheer
him still more — the thought that he has been the in
strument of doing good. I saw hanging in his library
the photograph of the first man he reclaimed from
drunkenness. He preserves it carefully, and likes to
think that the one has become a thousand. - He loves
his work, and said he hoped to die in harness.
Gough, although English-born, is a thorough Republi
can, and has no idea of being patronized by anybody.
When in this country, re-visiting with his father the
scenes of his childhood, they met the son of his father's
employer.
The old man took off his hat and said, — " Mr. Denny,
this is my son, John Gough, from America."
302 JOHN B. GOUGH.
The youth, without deigning to look particularly at
him, said carelessly, " How do, Gough ?"
To which Gough replied as carelessly, " How do,
Denny ?" and passed on.
He doubts if his father ever forgave him for this
audacity.
Another incident belonging to the same week ought
to be told along with that. There was an old woman,
a Mrs. Beattie, at Sandgate, who had been kind to
Gough when he was a poor boy, and on one particular
occasion had given him a large cake of gingerbread and
a bottle of milk. Gough had never forgotten her kind
ness, and when he found himself in the old place again,
he searched her out. He was to lecture in a neighbour
ing town that night, and great numbers of the Sandgate
people were going to hear him. The old woman was
eager to go also, but the distance was too great to walk,
and she was too poor to pay for any conveyance. On
hearing of this, Gough went before the hour of meeting
and took her with him in the carriage. When the
lecture was over he drove her home again, and putting
five sovereigns into her hand, told her that was the
payment of an old debt.
" Goodness me !" said the old woman, " what 's it
for?"
" Don't you remember ? It 's payment for that bottle
of milk and the gingerbread you gave me twenty-four
years ago."
Finding afterwards that she was in debt for coals
and house- rent, he got the bills and paid them ; and
ever after, up till the time of her death, in 1864, sent
her a present of £10 every Christmas day in memory of
that milk and gingerbread.
HIS SILVER WEDDING. 303
A few months after my visit, Mr. and Mrs. Gough
celebrated their silver wedding, having completed the
twenty-fifth year of their married life. Hundreds of
ladies and gentlemen, from Worcester and other cities,
gathered to do them honour; letters and telegrams
poured in from all parts of America, and silver gifts of
all kinds — silver e*pergnes, silver vases, silver fruit-
dishes, and so on — were presented, along with congratu
latory letters and speeches. In expressing his thanks,
Mr. Gough spoke of his humble circumstances at the
time of his marriage twenty-five years before, when he
took his wife from the little farm under the hill on
which his house now stands. He said there was no
party, no wedding-cake, no cards; he disturbed the
minister at his breakfast to perform the marriage
ceremony, and then set off with his bride to Boston,
where he had to make a temperance speech that night.
He said the first congratulation he got was from a pious
friend (Deacon Moses Grant), who met him at Boston,
and talked to his wife, while Gough went to. look after
the luggage.
" When I got back," said Gough, " the Deacon took
me aside and said, 'Johnny, she'll do' — and she has
done !"
304: DRINKING HABITS.
XXIV.
DRINKING HABITS.
THE main difference between the drinking habits
in America and our own country is this — the Ameri
cans drink more at bars and less at home. Of native
Americans the New Englander drinks least, the
Southerner most. I scarcely ever saw liquors of any
kind on the table in New England — in clergymen's
houses never, except on one occasion, when a bottle of
wine was opened at dinner, and even that turned out to
be a delicate hospitality meant exclusively for me. I
took none, and the bottle remained untouched, and
never made its appearance again. Tea is commonly
used instead of ale or wine, and glasses of iced water
are handed round at every meal. Even in the South
you do not often see spirits on the table. What sur
prised me still more was to find that the Highlanders
in America, despite the Highland tendency to conservat
ism in old customs, bad as well as good, had abandoned
their old practice of offering liquor to visitors. In the
Highland -settlements, both in Canada and the South,
I met with unbounded hospitality, but was never
offered liquor except, I think, on two occasions. One
of these only confirmed the uniformity of the contrary
practice. After dinner (at which there was no bever
age stronger than the delicious and unintoxicating wine
BA.RS. 305
of the country, pressed from the scuppernong grape)
our host went and brought some whisky. I told him
with thanks that I never tasted spirits. " No I " said
he with surprise ; " well, we never use it ourselves ; but
I thought, coming from the old country, you would miss
it !" It was not the first nor the fiftieth time that I
was humiliated to find how much the poetry and the
practice of Scotland had associated her name with
whisky.
In Canada there used to be a great deal of drinking
and dissipation at what are called " bees." At thresh
ing, husking, or apple-paring times, the neighbours in
country districts assemble to help one another. These
occasions are called threshing bees, husking bees, etc.
If you are building a house for yourself, one neighbour
comes with his axe, another with his horses, another
with his carpenter's tools — a score of them perhaps — to
help you, till the roof is over your head ; and you,
in turn, are expected to help the next comer. This is
called a raising bee. At these bees, whisky used to be
drunk like water, but this feature is happily disappear
ing, and whisky giving place to coffee, cakes, fowl, and
other wholesome refreshments.
But if the Americans drink less in the house, they
drink far more at public bars and saloons. This
practice is not confined to the poorer classes. I was
surprised to see a class of men " liquoring up " at these
bars, who, in our country, would no more be seen enter
ing a public-house than they would be seen entering a
house of ill fame. You see merchants, colonels, generals,
senators, and officers of State patronizing these open bars
as freely as we patronize a flower-show. I cannot
say that I ever saw a clergyman amongst them. In
VOL. II. U
306 DRINKING HABITS.
some parts of the country the practice is discounte
nanced by all church members. It is one of the distinc
tions in America between " the Church " and " the
world."
But saloons and bars are everywhere. Every steamer,
every restaurant, every hotel has its own, where from
morning till night you will see the barmen in their
shirt sleeves hard at work compounding cocktails, morn
ing-glories, tangle-legs, gin- slings, eye-openers, and
other transatlantic refreshers, and handing them to
the thirsty souls on the other side of the counter. The
bar at Delmonico's or the Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New
York, is a sight worth seeing. The public bars in
Mobile and New Orleans are also magnificent, some of
them like gilded arcades, open to the street, and visible
from end to end to all passers by. There, on a hot day,
you will see gentlemen swarming in and out, and a long
line of perspiring barmen, in shirts and light pants,
behind the long counter, mixing iced drinks and pass
ing them across with as much rapidity as if there was
a bet of a hundred dollars who should serve the greatest
number within a given time. In these bars there are
generally no seats. Gentlemen walk briskly in, step
up to the counter, toss off their drinks, and go. No
time is lost. An American can drink, but he cannot
afford to waste time over it. But th6 number of drinks
he will take at that bar before business hours are over
would astonish people of the same class here. The
liquor is generally taken in the form of cocktails, that
is, mixed with water sugar and spices.
There is another class of people not given to slings or
cocktails, who indulge in what are called "bitters."
Bitters are advertised in every newspaper; placarded
TEMPERANCE MEN. 307
in every shed ; painted in enormous letters on every
fence, tree, and rock where a human eye may be ex
pected to rest. I sometimes encountered these adver
tisements in Southern swamps and Western prairies,
in places where one would imagine the only customers
could be polecats, " bars," or buffaloes. The enormous
demand that exists for these " bitters " might lead a
stranger to imagine that some epidemic was continually
raging all over the United States.1 On being tasted
they are not found by any means so unpalatable as the
mixtures that go under the same name with us. Let
it be hoped that it was imagination, but some of them
that I put to my lips conveyed to my mind a not very
distant impression of whisky.
I have heard of a deacon who drew rein at a farm
house door on a very hot day. He was offered a glass
of cider.
"Cider," said the deacon ruefully, wiping his hot
brow with his pocket-handkerchief. " No : cider ain't
allowed in the pledge. But if you '11 call it apple-juice
I '11 take a drop."
The present generation of Americans give something
stronger the name of " bitters," and take a good many
drops.
You find, however, a far larger proportion of total
abstainers — men, and especially women, who neither
" liquor up " nor taste bitters — than there is in this
country. The mass of the clergy are abstainers, which
gives a powerful leverage to the temperance movement.
Many also of the most prominent statesmen, orators,
*' .
1 It is said that in a graveyard in eye of the visitor :— " If you would
Gloucester, Massachusetts, the fol- keep out of here, use Hostetter's
lowing advertisement meets the Bitters."
308 DRINKING HABITS.
soldiers, and literary men in the country, are not only
abstainers, but advocates of the temperance movement.
Amongst such are Henry Ward Beecher, Horace
Greeley, Wendell Phillips, and William Lloyd Garrison ;
Albert Barnes, Theodore Cuyler, Abbott, Hall, and Todd;
General Howard and Senator Wilson of Massachusetts ;
while the Vice-President of the United States (Mr.
Colfax) is a prominent member of a temperance society
formed amongst members of Congress. To these names
might be added a vast number of others, less known on
our side of the water, but almost as well known in the
States. I have not mentioned men like Gough, Delevan,
or Neal Dow, because their celebrity is identified with
either the Temperance or the Prohibition movement.1
The same holds true, though to a less extent, in the
South. General Lee has had the reputation of being
an abstainer since his boyhood ; and we have already
seen with what rigidness Stonewall Jackson, and Stuart
the great cavalry commander of the South, practised
the same virtue. Most of the Presidents of the United
1 General Gregory, a Christian sidered the matter, and revoked the
soldier of the same cast as Howard, order.
is also a prominent advocate of tern- I have also mentioned Mr.
perance. It is told of him that, Beecher's name. He said himself
when his brigade was preparing for that not only was he an abstainer,
action at Gettysburg, the corps com- but his church might almost be
mander issued an order to supply called a total abstinence church, and
the troops with liquor. Gregory was only one of thousands to which
rode up and said, — " Is that order the same description would apply,
peremptory ? " " Yes." " Then," He did not make the pledge a con-
said he, "I must resign my com- dition of membership, but people
mand. I shall undertake to do any- knew his views.
thing with these troops that can be "The other day," he said, "a
done by brave men, but I will not candidate presented himself. I said
undertake to control men who have to him, '« You don't drink, of course ? '
been stimulated by intoxicating " 'Certainly not.'
drinks." The commander recon- " < You are a temperate man ? '
TEMPERANCE MEN. 309
States have been Southern men ; and all of them, from
Madison downwards, were total abstainers until the
chance accession of Mr. Johnson. Grant also is said to
have become one since assuming his present position.
The influence of example, however, is not so power
ful in America as it is here. The tendency is for each
person to consider his own example as much worth as
any other body's. This increases the sense of individual
responsibility, but diminishes the constraining force of
conspicuous examples.
The fact at least remains that, notwithstanding the
higher position which the Temperance movement has
maintained in America, more whisky is consumed there,
according to population, than in Scotland. The annual
consumption in America is equal to four gallons for
each person, as compared with two and a quarter in
Scotland. In 1867, the number of places in England,
Scotland, and Ireland licensed for the sale of liquor
was 150,000; in the States only 130,000; but while
" ' Oh yes.' carried on independently, it has
" 'An abstainer, I suppose?' to a large extent re-organized its
" 'Yes, I may say I am.' societies on the model of masonic
" ' You would have no objection lodges. The members are Brothers,
to sign the pledge ? ' Templars, or Sons and Daughters of
" 'Well, no, I can't say that I Temperance; and their office-bearers
would.' are Grand Scribes, Worshipful
" ' All right ; here is our form.' Grand Patriarchs, and so forth.
" I put a pledge-card before him They have meetings and social
— we always have them at hand in gatherings, to which none but mem-
the drawer — he put down his name, bers are admitted ; they recognise a
and I have no doubt," Beecher added, closer brotherhood, and act upon it ;
"he will remain firm. Good men and are rather mutual insurance than
here only want a straw to turn the missionary societies. Otherwise the
scale, and fix them." difference is more in name than
Much of the life of the Temperance reality. The movement in our own
movement in America is found in country is rapidly assuming the
the churches. In so far as it is same form.
3 1 0 DRINKING HABITS.
the money spent on liquor in our three kingdoms has
never been reckoned higher than £80,000,000, it
amounts in the States to £130,000,000, without count
ing the imported liquors.
The comparative amount of drunkenness is not so
easily determined. How unsafe it is to trust in such
matters to cursory observation, was curiously illustrated
by the fact that Newman Hall, of London, travelling in
the States at the same time that Bishop Clarke of
America was travelling in this country, said he had
seen more drunkenness in London in a week than he
had seen in America during his whole visit ; while the
Bishop had just been saying that he had seen less
drunkenness in London in a whole month than he had
seen in New York in a single night. The two state
ments are of course quite reconcileable, if taken to
represent, not the actual amount of drunkenness, but
merely the amount seen by two observers in different
circumstances. I am disposed to think that Newman
Hall's observation more nearly represents the actual
state of things as visible to the public eye. I went to
some of the lowest parts of New Orleans, New York,
and Montreal, for the express purpose of seeing how '
they compared with the corresponding districts of
London and Glasgow, but never saw such sickening
and hideous exhibitions of drunkenness as are to be
seen every Saturday night in almost any Scotch or
English city. If there are as many drunk people, the
police must, by prompt apprehension, keep them off
the street, and must apprehend them at earlier stages
of inebriation.1
1 Police reports confirm this Montreal paper said he had never "
view of the case. The editor of a seen so many drunk people during
PRO
PORTION OF DRUNKARDS.
311
The calculations made as yet of the number of habi
tual drunkards in either country are necessarily vague,
from the impossibility of securing the necessary data ;
but it is a curious fact that the same class of calcula
tors, drawing their conclusions from the same class of
facts, give exactly the same number of drunkards and
the same number of annual victims for America as for
Great Britain. In each country 600,000 habitual
drunkards, and 60,000 deaths annually through drink,
are the numbers arrived at. Whatever may be the
worth of the estimates in themselves, the coincidence
is not without its value.1
his whole stay in that city as he
had seen in Edinburgh and Greenock
in a single night. And yet the Po
lice reports of Montreal show 4375
arrests of drunk persons in 1866,
and 4136 in 1867 ; while in Greenock
(which is probably two-thirds the
size of Montreal) the numbers were
only 1899 in 1866, and 1750 in
1867 ; and even in Edinburgh they
were but 4123 in 1866, and 3773 in
1867, actually lower than in Mont
real, though the population of Edin
burgh is probably half again as
large.
1 An eminent American physi
cian, in a recently published work
on American intemperance, reckons
that of every 300 men in America,
122 do not drink at all ; of the 178
who do drink, 100 drink moderately,
50 are occasional drinkers, 25 drink
periodically, or, as it is vulgarly
expressed, "go on the spree ;" and
3 are habitual drunkards, Then of
the women : Out of every 700 there
are 600 who never drink, 30 who
taste wine, 17 who taste ardent
spirits, 36 who use beer, 14 who
drink " periodically," and 3 who are
habitual drunkards. Thus, while
fewer women drink than men, a
much larger proportion become
drunkards — 1 in every 33 women,
1 in every 59 men.
3 1 2 LIQUOR LAWS.
XXV.
•
LIQUOR LAWS.
BOTH in Canada and the States, I looked with some
interest into the working of the Liquor laws, and the
results of my observations can be summed up in two
sentences. Wherever an overwhelming temperance
sentiment exists — wherever, in other words, the major
ity of the people are opposed to the use of liquor- — pro
hibitory legislation succeeds, and is attended with the
most beneficent results. In all other cases it has proved
a failure. I am sorry to say it ; but the truth must be
told ; and if the truth in this case tells against the
efficacy of mere legislation, it may perhaps indicate
where the remedy is to be looked for.
In Canada, I found an Act in existence known as
Dunkin's Law, and similar to the Permissive measure
which is being agitated for amongst ourselves. This
Act, after passing the Legislature in 1864, was adopted
by sixty-two municipalities in Upper Canada, and by
twenty- eight in the Lower Province : and already, in
most of these, it is a dead letter. In some of them, no
serious attempt has ever been made to enforce it —
people apparently satisfying their consciences by voting
its adoption, and continuing to vote against its repeal.
In other places where it had been enforced, the inn
keepers in revenge not only shut up their bars, but
SEEING IT IN A NEW LIGHT. 3 1 3
their whole accommodation for travellers. The result
was described to me by a farmer who had himself voted
for the Act.
" First week after its adoption," said he, " I arrived
after a long drive at the inn. Nobody around ; every
thing shut up. I went to the nearest house. ' What 's
wrong at the inn V said I. ' Nothing wrong/ said the
man ; ' only Dunkin's Law, that 's all.' ' But where
is S — ?' said I, naming the landlord. ' Vamoosed/
said the man. Well, I thought I 'd go to the yard of
the inn, give my horse a drink, and get home. But
when I got there the pump was locked up too. I had
not contemplated Dunkin's Act in this light before. I
got into my buggy and drove off. I Ve let Dunkin's
Law alone since then."
" But," said I, " why couldn't some one take the inn,
and open it on temperance principles ?"
" To be sure ; why not ? " said he. " But nobody did
it."
" Then how have matters gone ?"
" Oh, S — is back, and the inn opened again."
" And the bar ?"
" Yes, the bar too."
" But what of Dunkin's Law ?"
" Well, sir, I guess it 's on the statute-book. If it
don't do anything more, it's a great moral protest against
the traffic, sir."
It was a paper blockade. The law protested, and
the traffic went on.
I found a similar state of things existing in some of
the Prohibition States. In Massachusetts, the people
were spending £2 per head on intoxicating drinks — a
higher average than prevails in Scotland — and yet the
314 LIQUOR LAWS.
Maine Law was the law of the State. "We are all for
Maine Liquor Law," said one man, " but we are agin its
enforcement." The law had gone further than popular
sentiment would bear it out. People would not inform,
juries would not convict, magistrates would not exact
the penalties. Mayor Harris, of Springfield, Massachu
setts, who made strong efforts to enforce the law in his
own city, said it was the terror that the good men had
of the bad men that was his trouble. " I could get no
co-operation," he said. " Some would say behind the
door, — " You are a clever fellow ; stick to it ; put them
through/ — but the best men would not help me in the
plainest cases."
In Boston, when inquiry was made into the working
of Prohibition, the police reported 2000 places where
liquor was being got in spite of the law. This was more
by 200 than all the places licensed in the much larger city
of Glasgow. The advocates of Prohibition said, " It is
because our local authorities will not put the State law
in force." The State accordingly, in 1866, put its own
constabulary into Boston for the express purpose of
enforcing the law. Seizures were made day after day.
Colonel Jones was hard at work when I was there in
1867, and the traffic was cut down to half its former
proportions. But the people were not prepared for
this. The " P.L.L." agitation, already referred to in a
previous chapter, was got up; the liquor interest
supplied the sinews of war ; a majority was secured in
the State Legislature ; and the law of Prohibition was
repealed.
These facts represent the side of the question most
adverse to prohibitory legislation. But there are im-
THE TRAFFIC RESTRICTED. 3 1 5
portant facts also on the other side. It has to be
admitted first of all, that as a general (not a universal)
rule, wherever temperance sentiment is strong enough
to get the Maine Law passed, it is strong enough to
compel the liquor traffic to withdraw from the public
gaze. It was a new thing for me to walk for hours
along the streets of a large and populous city like
Boston and not see a single spirit-shop. That is one
point gained. The traffic, no doubt, goes on. But it
has to creep away into back streets, or conceal itself
behind window-blinds that offer nothing but cigars, or
soda-water, or confectionary, to the uninitiated passer
by. When the people become more vigilant, it has to
supply its customers through clubs or city agencies,
or under medical prescription. In desperate cases it
has to betake itself to the exhibition of Greenland pigs
and other curious animals, charging 25 cents for a
sight of the pig and throwing in a gin cocktail gra
tuitously. Natural history, in such cases, becomes
a study of absorbing interest. People have no sooner
been to see the Greenland pig once, than they are
seized with an irresistible desire to go back and see
him again.
The traffic thus maintains an existence. But under
such difficulties it can never go on to the same extent
as when liquor is sold freely and openly. There is a
large class of people in every community who will use
liquor if they can have it in the ordinary way ; but
will not creep up back- stairs for it, or patronize the
Greenland pig. The worst of it is that the class thus
excluded is the class that could use liquor with most
moderation ; whilst the patrons of the Greenland pig
are precisely those whom it is most desirable, for the
316 LIQUOR IAWS.
sake of public peace and morality, to keep drinking
facilities from.
The absence of these facilities, however, keeps vast
numbers from drinking who are elsewhere enticed into
public-houses by the allurements spread out at every
corner. The furious opposition which the liquor-
sellers make to prohibition in every form and degree,
is proof how seriously it affects their trade. If the
traffic could go on as well in back streets as in front
ones, and behind false blinds as well as behind open
bars, the publicans would let the Maine Law people
have their way, and would laugh at them for their
pains.
A comparison of the amount of liquor consumed in
Prohibition States, as compared with those where the
sale of drink is licensed, shows that the grog- sellers
know what they are about.
In California, where there is almost free trade in
liquor, the amount consumed in 1867 averaged $157
worth for each person. In Ehode Island, under a more
stringent license law, and under circumstances more
resembling those of the Prohibition States, the average
was still $45. Whereas in Massachusetts, under a
Prohibitory law, the average was only $23, little more
than a half; and in the State of Maine, where the
Prohibitory law was enforced more rigidly, the average
was only $13, being less than a twelfth of the propor
tion under easy license in California, and less than a
third of the proportion under the stringent license law
of Ehode Island. Or if we take three Prohibitory
States (Massachusetts, Maine, and Vermont), and com
pare them with four License States (New Jersey, Khode
Island, Maryland, and Wisconsin), we find the three
WHERE PROHIBITION SUCCEEDS. 317
Prohibitory States spending $43,000,000 on drink
(certainly an odd account of Prohibition !) but the four
License States spending $137,000,000, or fully three
times more, with 25,000 fewer people.
The same result appears if we take the same State
under License and under Prohibition. We have seen
that Massachusetts, in spite of the Maine Law, drank
more, in proportion to her population, than Scotland.
But Massachusetts, when she got a License law, drank
more than ever. In the single city of Boston, six months
of license showed an increase of 5440 arrests.
Such, indeed, was the spread of intemperance, and its
concomitant evils, under the laxer law, that the people
took the alarm, and, after a year's trial, re-enacted the
Prohibitory law in a more stringent form than ever.
Prohibition could not kill the monster, but at least it
hampered and clogged his movements.
This effect is seen even where a large proportion of the
people are against the enforcement of the law ; while
in places where the mass of the people have them
selves abjured the use of liquor, and are determined
not to allow the community to be disturbed and made
liable to additional burdens by a drinking minority—
in such places the law, when passed, is enforced with
rigour, and the liquor traffic is literally stamped out.
This is conspicuously the case in rural districts, where
evasion is more difficult, and where — the eyes of a reso
lute public being on the watch — the carrying on of an
illicit traffic to any extent becomes impossible. In many
such districts the traffic has been swept clean away,
with whatever of pauperism, immorality, and crime be
longed to it. Even in cities, the traffic, though not
annihilated, is driven too far underground for any but
3 1 8 LIQUOR LAWS.
long-snouted and determined dram-drinkers to reach it.
One gentleman who visited Portland, in the State of
Maine, in company with a friend, told me that they
hunted through the whole city on a hot day in quest
of something to drink, but without success. Under
standing that druggists were allowed to dispense a cer
tain amount in cases of sickness, his friend went into a
drug- store with his hand upon his stomach. But the
druggist was too wide-awake, or had the fear of Neal
Dow and the police before his eyes. He suggested pills,
was ready to furnish them in any quantity, but would
supply no whisky. They fell in at last with a sym
pathetic Englishman, who undertook to conduct them
to a place where drink could be had. He led them to
a back street, and up two pair of stairs into a miserable
" snuggery," where they got some stuff resembling soup
and water, which the man called beer, and charged for
as such. The others had something else, but all re
ported equally bad. " We sought no more," said my
informant, " till we got out of Maine."
In probably no other city of its size is the law so
resolutely enforced, but the fact and its lesson remain
the same.1 When the people are determined, the thing
can be done. Even as a legislative measure, Prohibition
is a triumph of the good over the bad. But far too
much is expected of it ; and wherever it diverts men's
1 Even in Portland, the law seems reason assigned being that by some
to be in advance of public senti- political manoeuvre the State had
nient. Mr. George Easton, whose lost its constabulary, and there
name is well known in connection were no proper parties to attend to
with the Temperance movement in the enforcement of the Prohibitory
Scotland, says that when he landed law. In the spring of last year the
in Portland, eighteen months ago, State regained its constabulary, and
liquor was being sold openly at all the bars were closed,
the bar-rooms in the city — the
WHERE PROHIBITION SUCCEEDS. 319
minds from the moral movement 011 which its whole
strength depends, and deludes a community with the
idea that it can change its moral condition by a vote, it
•not only fails as a practical measure, but works mischief
as a theory.
320 AT HARTFORD.
XXVI.
AT HARTFORD.
IN the outskirts of Hartford, one of the busy centres
of population in the State of Connecticut, lives the
authoress of Uncle Toms Cabin. The house stands
about a quarter of a mile back from the main road, and
is only accessible therefrom by a rough waggon-way,
where you feel as if you were driving across a ploughed
field in the winter time. In wet weather, if you are on
foot, you have to pick your steps along the skirt of the
miry road on a string of planks laid there for the pur
pose. By-and-by you come to the railway track, where
you have to cross the rails. A little farther on, the
road, getting worse at every step, spreads out into a
muddy irregular square, where stands a saw-mill.
Across the hedge from this mill Mrs. Stowe has built
her house. It struck me as an extraordinary site for
any one to select for a country seat. But Mrs. Stowe is
a Beecher, and it seems impossible for a Beecher to do
anything that has not some cast of oddness about it. I
inferred from what Mrs. Stowe herself said, that the
situation had been chosen on account of some fine trees
which are now enclosed in the grounds. The house is a
large building of dark red stone. When you first enter
you are struck with a certain antique air about the
A CHAT WITH MRS. STOWE. 321
large reception-hall, the Norman arches, and the great
doors of carved oak. The walls are hung with pictures,
many of them fine works of art, superior to what one
generally sees as yet in the houses of even wealthy
Americans. I remember in the drawing-room being
struck with a magnificent photograph of the Colos
seum, four or five feet long, and a portrait of Lincoln
in oil — the finest I saw in America. Lincoln was not a
handsome man to begin with, but most of the pictures
I saw of him were very poor, and the marble statue of
him in the Capitol at Washington looks very inferior
as a work of art.
Here Mrs. Stowe lives, with her husband and family.
The Professor is a delightful man, hale and jovial, with
snowy white hair and whiskers, and manners as free
and hearty as a sea captain. He was full of enthusiasm
at that time about Canada, which he had just been
visiting along with his wife.
I remember Mrs. Stowe sitting between us heating
her feet on the fender. She is more youthful in appear
ance than I had expected to find her, looking almost
like a girl in certain positions of the head ; but when
she turns her face to the light, you see the marks of
advancing years. She was dressed that day in black
silk, with white facings, and had her wavy brown hair
brushed aside and falling down in curls behind her ears.
She is exceedingly interesting when she talks, but seems
liable to strange variations in her mood. At her brother's
house in Brooklyn, I remember her sitting almost the
whole time of dinner without uttering a single word.
Even that day at Hartford, she would sometimes, in the
midst of the conversation, remain silent for a long time,
bent forward, with her hands folded across her knees,
VOL. n. x
322 AT HARTFORD.
gazing thoughtfully and abstractedly into the fire. Then
suddenly she would waken from her reverie, and strike
in with a brilliant remark, and, when she said anything
very good, would look round with a radiant face, look
ing twenty years younger than she had done two minutes
before, and with her wide-set brown eyes beaming with
a singularly engaging smile.
When I spoke of Uncle Tom and the outlook for the
negroes, she said, — " The black people never had a
chance before. They will rise now. They will take
their place side by side with the white man, and live.
The black children get on just as fast as white children ;
the school examinations show it. The mixed race is
weaker."
" The mixed die out soon," said the Professor, " and
yet the mixed women are the loveliest I ever saw."
Mrs. Stowe said, with a comical smile, " You didn't
always think so, did you ?"
Speaking of Congress as compared with Parliament,
she said, — " What could you expect with Congress full
of negro -whipping planters ? When slavery was men
tioned these men raged up and down the House like
tigers. Charles Sumner is one of the politest men alive,
yet Brooks declared he had insulted him. It was insult
enough to attack slavery. Those were the days of fight
ing and disturbance. There has been perfect decorum
in Congress since the South went out."
" There is as much difference," she said, " between the
Southern, aristocracy and the aristocracy of England as
between light and darkness. The English are refined ;
the Southerners are not. It was one of the first things
I noticed in Stafford House : the Puke of Sutherland
[Mrs. Stowe pronounced it ' Dook'] and Lord Palmer-
A CHAT WITH MftS. STOWE. 323
ston always said to the servants ' Please/ ' Yes, please/
' Thank you.' Perhaps/' she added, " they feel it neces
sary to be polite, as their position is one of tolerance ;
but at any rate they are polite and affable to servants.
I observed they said ' Yes, sir/ or ' No, sir/ to a servant,
though they did not say it to each other. Now, a
Southerner would say, ' Here, boy ! Do this, quick !'
and would kick him if he didn't/'
" The Northern people," she added, " are accustomed
to be polite to one another ; so polite and so unaccus
tomed to anything else, that when our members found
themselves spoken to by the Southern members in an
imperious and overbearing style, they felt themselves
nobodies. But that is all over now."
Lord and Lady had been on a visit to the Stowes
the week before.
" Lady — - is a thorough Piadical," said Mrs. Stowe.
" She declared that the Church of England was a mere
sect. His Lordship was dreadfully shocked."
" We saw a funny story in the papers one morning
about a commercial traveller who got into the same
carriage with the Duke of Northumberland and the
Duke of Argyll, and conversed with them freely, not
knowing who they were. The Duke of Northumber
land got out at Alnwick, where a handsome equipage
was in waiting. The traveller said with surprise, ' I '11
bet you that's some big nob we've been talking to/
' It is the Duke of Northumberland/ said Argyll. The
traveller stared after the equipage in amazement. ' By
gum !' he said, when he had recovered himself, ' who'd
have thought that a Duke would have talked to two
little snobs like us !' Lady laughed immoderately
at the story/' said Mrs. Stowe. " I think she laughed
324 AT HARTFORD.
all the more, because Lord -is such a little fellow
himself. She is very wicked in that way."
Both Professor and Mrs. Stowe spoke in high terms
of the Duke of Argyll's Reign of Law, which they had
just been reading. " He is a remarkable man," said
Mrs. Stowe ; " just as good as if he were no duke
at all !"
I have given Mrs. Stowe's opinion of the Southerners.
Between her and them not much love is lost. As for her
books on slavery, the Southern people denounce them as
outrageous misrepresentations that have brought upon
it and upon them a great deal of unmerited abuse.
I remember a striking remark made in conversation
by Charles Campbell, the historian of Virginia : — " I
have never," he said, " read more than a few pages of
Uncle Toms Cabin, but I read enough of it to condemn
it. Uncle Tom is a pattern of virtue. Now, if Tom is
not a representative negro the book is false, for he is
the negro of the book. If Tom is a representative negro,
what a compliment this is to the South that we have
brought that race from barbarism, and raised them
higher than ourselves ! — for few of us are as good as
Uncle Tom. That book and old John Brown's raid,"
added Mr. Campbell, " may be said to have brought on
the war."
I had also the privilege at Hartford of meeting Horace
Bushnell, well known in this country through his pub
lished works, and especially his first volume of sermons
published under the title of The New Life.
I found Bushnell sitting in his parlour alone, correct
ing proofs for the press. The first thing that struck me
was the expression of his dark, anxious, thoughtful eyes.
HORACE BUSHNELL'S TABLE-TALK. 325
He has a fine intellectual face, sharp features, thin
sensitive lips, and a nervous contraction of the brow
towards the centre, which gives a peculiar intensity to
his gaze. Though scarcely what one would call an old
man, his hair, which hangs in twining masses down
both sides of his face, and the strong beard which
sprouts down from his lip, are almost white ; and there
is a stoop in his spare figure and a feebleness in his
step when he walks.
There is a good deal of sadness and care in his face.
He has the look of one who has thought much and
deeply, and is still looking forward anxiously for some
goal which he cannot see. He talks earnestly, says
sometimes a funny thing, and laughs, but his laugh is
like a sungleani across the darkness. There seems
always a background of sorrowfulness and anxiety.
Speaking of his work on the Atonement, he said, —
" My views have been completely misunderstood,
especially by those who have condemned my book
without taking the trouble to read it. When my views
began to be talked about here, I had a letter from a
prominent Unitarian, saying that I had evidently split
from the orthodox party, and urging me to come and
join the Unitarians. He said my doctrine was just
theirs, and I should be warmly welcomed. I wrote
back saying that he and his friends had misunderstood
me more than my own friends had done; that my
view was not only at variance with the Unitarian
position, but destructive of it, and would by-and-by be
seen to be so.
" That keyed him up," said Bushnell. " I heard no
more from that quarter."
Speaking of his reputation in Britain, he said, — " It
326 AT HARTFORD.
was a clique here that got up the cry of heresy against
me, and immediately your people in Scotland turned up
their eyes in horror and put my books in their Index
Expurgatorius. But they will find that they have done
me injustice." He added, — " I am not an innovator ;
I am one of the most conservative of men. On this
question of the Atonement I have taken up the true
position, and can hold it. Truth will assert itself in
the end."
In the course of subsequent conversation, the alleged
deterioration of the American race came up. He said,
— " It is the fashion of some American writers to talk
in that strain. But I don't believe a word of it. In
vital force, in energy, in muscular power, our Americans
excel any men on the face of the earth. They are
thinner ; but look at a Saxon man in England, fat and
sleek ; what is he compared to a man of nerve ? It is
not the heaviest boys that are bravest or strongest.
A little fellow, all fibre, has more work in him. Our
youths are often magnificent in build, and could be
athletes if they pleased.
" They say the school system here runs the mechan
ism too fast, and hurts the children. Well, if that be
so, let it be rectified. But education is progress ; and
I want all the brain in the country developed. I
would have a servant girl with a head as big as a
kettle. She would manage her kitchen all the better,
and be fit for something else besides."
When -reference was made to those who thought
education made the poor discontented with their lot. —
" That may be the result," said Bushnell, " if you fill
a boy's head with nonsense — telling him that if he
learns to read and write he will be fit for something
327
better than making boots, like his father. That boy
may become discontented ; but if he does, it is not
because he is educated, but because nonsense has been
talked to him. Education fits a man for anything that
may open up, but if he is a bootmaker, it makes him a
happier and a better bootmaker than he would have
been without it. Look at these Irish servant girls.
They come uneducated, and cannot do two things at
once. An educated girl will do thrice as much,
because she brings intelligence and adaptation to her
work. Every class benefits by education; privileged
classes may speak against it, but no one can defend
the keeping of people in ignorance on Christian
grounds."
He expressed himself strongly, however, against the
Woman's Rights movement. He said its 'effect would
be to take woman from her own position and make an
inferior man of her. " I believe in woman's rights," he
said, " but her right and her glory, too, is to l>e a woman,
and not a mere ditto to man."
Over the subject of universal suffrage he shook his
head doubtfully. " It has grave drawbacks," he said.
" It would be difficult to tell whether it has brought
more good or evil. You will perhaps find in England
that you have let too many hands loose for your safety.
But all nations are moving to this ; all that can be
done now is to regulate."
He seemed equally doubtful about the ultimate issue
of the temperance and prohibition movements. " I
have most hope," he said, " from light wholesome
wines. It is no use advocating moderation with our
present liquors. If you invite people to drink mode
rately they drink to the bottom of the glass, to see if
328 AT HARTFORD.
the virtue is there." He had little faith in legislation.
" Legislation," he said, " will never make bad men
good."
Speaking of the freed negroes in the South, he said, —
" There is probably a necessity for black labour on
the poisonous rice fields around Savannah and Charles
ton, but on the cotton fields a Scotchman could do
better than a Georgian negro. The white man brings
more mind to his work. If he cannot do it with his
hands he will invent a machine to do it."
Buslmell is no longer engaged in regular ministerial
work. His health compelled him some years since to
dernit his charge, and his work now is chiefly through
the press. Only at intervals he occupies his old pulpit,
or gives a day to a brother minister in some of the
other churches. He is also a regular attender at a
meeting which about thirty of the Hartford ministers
have amongst themselves every Monday evening, for
social intercourse and friendly discussion. He is
much loved and revered by Ms brethren, though most
of them are opposed to his peculiar view of the
Atonement. The man who has succeeded him in his
own pulpit is one of his most vigorous opponents, and
grapples with his views in his sermons sometimes,
though Bushnell sits listening to him in the pew below.
But they are good friends, and Bushnell has said that
he admires his brother all the more for his fearlessness
and fidelity.
AMERICANISMS. 329
XXVII.
AMERICANISMS.
AT one of the stations on the way from Savannah to
Macon, I asked a man who was selling roasted peanuts
on the platform what place this was.
" Number 10," said the man.
" But what is the name of the village ?"
" Number 10," said the man.
I found that the stations along a great part of the
line were indicated in the same way by mere numerals.
It is so also with the islands on the Mississippi.
Instead of names like Arran, Bute, and Cumbrae, it is
" Island, No. 1," " Island, No. 2," and so on, up I think
to Island 125. New York and other cities in naming
their streets have followed the same plan. In
Philadelphia, the first street back from the river is First
Street, the one behind it Second Street, and so on ; and
in numbering the houses, a new hundred begins at
every corner. As soon as you cross First Street the
numbers begin 101, 102 ; as soon as you cross Second
Street they begin 201, 202; so that if the house you
want is 1302 you know that it is the first door past
Thirteenth Street, and that if you start from the river you
have exactly thirteen equi-distant streets to cross before
getting to it. The system is ingenious, and looks well
330 AMERICANISMS.
on paper ; but does not seem to servg much purpose
practically.1
Numbers are prosaic, but they are not vulgar. So
much cannot be said for the execrable practice of
giving a new place the name of any man located there
with the suffix "villa" This is bad enough when
the place was nameless before, but it is worse when
some beautiful Indian name is wiped out to make way
for this vulgar palimpsest. Muggins, for instance, may
be a good honest name in its own place ; and Mr.
Muggins may be an excellent man, and an invaluable
settler. But one feels that an outrage on good taste
has been committed when this gentleman, having set
up a mill on the banks of the Wyano, and built a house
—which is, perhaps, to be the nucleus of a great city-
blots out the name Wyano, and calls the place Muggin-
ville. The States and Canada are full of these names.
Jonesville, Smithville, Brockville, Barrelville, Pottsville,
Stottsville are all bond fide names of places. Nor will
one of each suffice. There are 3 Millvilles, 4 Somer-
villes, 7 Greenvilles, and 8 Centervilles besides 3 Cen
ters, 3 Centrals, and 1 Centralia. This repetition of
the same name is another American peculiarity, and is
sometimes bewildering to a stranger. You have a note
of introduction, let us suppose, to Dr. Brown of New-
1 This system has been attributed one family in Michigan the sons
to the utilitarian Quakers; by others were christened One, Two, Three,
to the methodical Dutch, who have the daughters, First, Second, Third
a craze for numerals, and use them — a safer method than was adopted
in some of their cemeteries for in- by the Vermont couple who called
dicating the dead. To speak of their second child Finis, thinking
" poor dear departed No. 15," it would be the last, and who,
must indeed, as Dr. Macleod once when a girl and two boys appeared
remarked, be the prose of sentiment. afterwards, had to call them Ad-
The living in America are sometimes denda, Supplement, and Last Ap-
indicated in the same fashion. In pendix.
VILLES. 331
port. You turn up the guide-book, and find that there
are seven places of that name scattered up and down
the continent. Or you have an old friend, who is now
settled in a place called Florence, and whom you wish
particularly to see. You consult your guide-book to
ascertain how you are to get to him, and find, to your
dismay, that there are Florences all over the Union —
in the north, in the south, in the east, and in the west
— nine of them in all, scattered over an area of two or
three thousand miles. These cases are not all excep
tional. There are 10 Franklins, besides a Franklinton,
and, of course, a Franklin ville ; 8 Middletowns and 1 2
Salems. There are 1 1 Washingtons, 1 4 Summits, with
2 Summitvilles ; 1 9 Unions, with 3 Unionvilles, 4
Tremonts, and 8 Trentons. Through some special in
terposition of Providence, there are only 2 Gorhams,
and no Gorhamville. No wonder that, in addressing
letters, it has become necessary in every case to add
the name of the State to the name of the town.
Happily, some of the Indian names, like Ontario,
Wyonine, Ohio, Susquehanna, Minnehaha, Alabama,
and Wyaconda, have been allowed to remain.1
1 The Indian names are not all so at Kingston, but of which I can only
musical. Probably the hardier life remember the lines —
and bleaker realms of Nova Scotia
" Simon Frazer, of Tabusmtack,
and Newfoundland account for the Built the church of Cushybequak.»
harsher names of Cushybequak,
Chebukto, and Tobby-gozzel. One The territory of Alaska is opening
would imagine that these would be up a still more interesting field for
hard nuts for a poet to crack. It poetical enterprise. Amongst the
would seem, however, that Dr. aboriginal inhabitants of that icy
Norman Macleod, during his visit region there is said to be a tribe of
to Canada many years ago, com- Yatukskylitmicks, dwelling on the
posed something of the nature of a banks of a river that rejoices in
religious war-chant, which was re- the name of Atutoacoolakuchargut.
cited to me by one of his old friends
332
AMERICANISMS.
Probably the immense number of new places wliicli
are continually springing up and demanding names has
something to do with . this repetition and use of mere
numbers. It may also help to account for another
feature in American nomenclature — the wholesale ap
propriation of ready-made names from the old world.
It is doubtful if there is a single European city or town,
noted either in ancient or modern history, that has not
a namesake on the other side of the Atlantic. There are
2 Edinburghs, 7 Bristols, a Glasgow, and a Liverpool,
7 Berlins, 7 Waterloos, 9 Manch esters, and 10 Oxfords.
The Americans have a special fondness for the names
of antiquity. Amongst their " cities " are to be found
Sparta and Memphis, 4 Homes, 3 Athens, 5 Troys, 6
Lebanons, and 7 Palmyras.1
1 Their fondness for classical
names, and for high-sounding
names, whether classical or not,
amounts to a weakness, and is
amusingly conspicuous in some of
the names they give to their chil
dren. I noted the following names
in a single family in North Caro
lina : —
Lyssisanici Vietta M/Lean.
Albums Sidelphus M'Lean.
Leila Anstrici M'Lean.
Morrettus Sellers M'Lean.
Such names swarm all over
America. Plenty of them are to
be found among the public men.
President Ulysses Grant, General
Tecumseh Sherman, ex-minister
Cassius Marceilus Clay, are only
specimens.
In Puritan New England, it was
long the practice to take Scriptural
and pious names ; and little Faiths,
Godspeeds, Hopestills, Delights,
and Tranquillities, not to mention
vulgar Abrahams, Ruths, Jobs,
and Jacobs, are still to be found
playing with minute Daniel Web-
sters and Napoleons. But the
rage in the meantime is for fancy
names, and a string of them for
each child.
The most extraordinary for length
that I came in contact with myself
was owned by a black woman in one
of the night classes at the Beech
Institute, Savannah, whose full
signature was " Corinthia-Marigold-
Wilkison- Ball-Wemyss-Alexander-
Jones Mitchell. The teacher said
they called her Cora Mitchell " for
short." But her name, had a mean
ing. It was the practice with slaves
to assume the name of their owner,
and this woman had been owned by
half-a-dozen families in succession.
She had retained the name of each,
and therefore emerged into freedom
with the formidable name given
above.
PRONUNCIATION. 333
Let me enumerate now a few of the peculiarities of
American pronunciation and expression that attracted
my attention. Mrs. Stowe's way of pronouncing
" Duke/' common enough in some parts of England, is
universal in America. In almost all the words which
with us have the sound of " u," the Americans give
the sound of " oo." They speak about " noospapers ;"
about " Noo York" and " Noo Orleans;" about the
" doo " having fallen last night ; and about giving the
devil his " doo." Several times in New England, even
amongst educated people, I heard " does " pronounced
" dooz." One New England lady, whose name would
be familiar to most readers, said, when I asked if her
husband went to such and such meetings, " Oh yes, he
dooz." Horizon is often pronounced " horizon," with
the " i " short and the accent on the first syllable ;
while " European " is pronounced with the " o " long
and accented, " European." The Americans are amused
just as much at our provincialisms, — at the Cockney
" hasking for heggs," at the Scotchman's " brode "
accent, and at the pronunciation given here to some of
their proper names. The first friend to whom I spoke
of the river Potomac (emphasizing the " Pot ") fairly
roared. The correct pronunciation is Potomac — a far
finer word. Again, Appomatfcox is pronounced " Ap'po-
mattox;" Connecticut is pronounced as if it had no
" c " in the second syllable, " Connetticut ;" Illinois is
pronounced "Illinoy;" Arkansas is generally "A'rk-
ansaw ;" Mohican is "Mohic-an;" Alleghany is " Ally-
gayny," and Cincinnati almost always " Cincin
nati."
But to pass to terms and expressions. Eailway
334 AMERICANISMS.
carriages are called " cars" in America, and stations
" depots." The guard is called the conductor, and the
cry is "All aboard," instead of "Take seats." They
carry the analogy further, and speak of shipping goods
by train.
Shops are called "stores." The only places the
Americans call shops are work- shops — places where
things are manufactured; all places where goods are
sold are stores. Servants are " helps." Masters are
either " governors " or " bosses." " Is the boss to
hum?" you will hear a country girl say when in
quiring if the master is at home. A stranger will ask
you "What's the time, boss?" But "boss" is a
vulgarism. " Captain " is often used in place of " boss,"
where we should simply say " sir." People often said
to me, "Guess you 're a stranger here, cap'n?" The
same term is applied officially to every man who has
charge of anything. Hotel-keepers, stage -drivers, rail
way-guards, are all " captains." Perhaps this usage
dates from the militia days, when almost everybody
had some military title, the rank most wanting being
the rank and file. These titles mean more now than
before the war, and are, if possible, even more abundant.
In some parts of the South everybody is either a general,
colonel, or major; and the best rule perhaps, if you
don't know exactly what a man is, is to call him
" General." If he is a general, you are right ; and if
he isn't, he will excuse the mistake.
The title of " Professor " is often absurdly em
ployed in the States. Tailors are sometimes called
professors. I observed that a barber in Chicago was
advertising himself as a professor of hair-cutting. A
corn- cutter called himself a professor of corns and
ODD EXPRESSIONS. 335
bunions. Another man with a patent called himself a
professor of soap.
Where we should say " I think " or " I suppose/'
the Northern man says, " I guess," and the Southern
man " I reckon." It was a Yankee's way of explain
ing the difference, that a Yankee's guess was as good as
a Southern man's reckoning. These expressions are
attached to all tenses. " I guess we got wet that day,"
" I reckon we '11 have rain," " I guess it 's warm," " I
reckon it is, considerable." Some of the Western
people prefer calculating to either guessing or reckon
ing ; " I calculate there ain't anything like this in your
country." Still stranger is their use of " expect,"
with reference to past as well as future events. You will
sometimes hear a man say " I expect they came." As
in the other cases, however, the oddity is the result of
elision. The whole sentence would be, " I expect that
if we go into the evidence we shall find that they
o
came."
" Plenty near " and " plenty much " are not uncom
mon. I remember a farmer remarking that his place
was " plenty near " the river, and another that a cer
tain stove though small was " plenty large for the
room." " Mighty " in the sense of " very " is common
in the South. A road is " mighty bad," and a sermon
" mighty slow." The Western man uses the same
expression, but is fonder of " powerful." He is
" mighty glad " to see you, and " powerfully sorry "
that you can't wait.
Candidates stand for office in this country, in America
they " run " for office. And they really do. One man
runs for a judgeship ; another man is run for the Pre-
336 AMERICANISMS.
sidency. Things are also run in America that are con
ducted here. Mr. Smith runs a dry goods' business ;
Colonel Brown runs a hotel. If it is large and pros
perous it is " a whole team ; " if small, it is only " a
one-horse concern." I heard people speak of a one-
horse college and a one-horse church.
Americans are much given to the verbalizing of
nouns. They speak of "mailing" letters, and of two
people " rooming " together ; and a man who is looking
out for a " location " is " prospecting." I once heard a
lady say that she " suspicioned " another. But if it be
true, as alleged, that the Metropolitan Eailway Company
in London once announced that, in spite of an accident
which had occurred, they would continue " to function
along the line/' we can hardly blame an American for
suspicioning.
A " bug " in America generally means a fly — any
thing with wings, and not restricted as to the number
of its legs. They have tumble-bugs, lightning-bugs,
and other varieties innumerable. The term " big bug "
is sometimes applied to a prominent man. A Virginian,
in a glow of enthusiasm, described General Lee as the
biggest bug alive.
Streams in America are called " creeks," small rivers
are "runs," — as Bull Eun, Hatcher's Eun, and so on.
The autumn is " the fall ; " the sunset is " sundown."
You sometimes, not often, hear "sun-up." You will
hear people (commercial, I should think) speak of
" elegant Goffee," an " elegant moon," an " elegant sky,"
a "handsome night." In the South they speak of
having " a misery in the head," meaning a pain. They
retain our old use of the word " dizzy," meaning giddy ;
but they speak of a giddy girl as we do. In Vermont
USING WORDS IN DIFFERENT SENSE. 337
they speak about tall girls, meaning gay. Tall speak
ing, tall stealing, are expressions more common, and
better understood. In New England you hear "cun
ning " used in the sense of neat and pretty — " such a
cunning little boy," in admiration. "Clever" means
good-natured. An American would say, "He has no
mind, no ingenuity, but he's clever, sir, very clever."
They rarely attach to the word our idea of intellectual
acuteness. Their word for ability is smartness — " Yes,
sir, he 's a smart preacher " — " General Grant is a smart
man, sir." The word " around " is oddly used — " I '11
be around," for I '11 be near — " Shall you be around ? "
— " Is there any ink around ? " and so on. One lady
said, " Our girls begin very soon to think of beaux, and
flirt around." A Texan whom I met at New Orleans
said he was merely " gassing around " for a day or two.
But oddest of all is the use of the word " fix." With
the Americans everything is fixed. They fix the fire
and fix the dinner. Your wife goes to fix her hair, or
gets her maid to fix her generally. If the clock runs
down, it wants fixing. Eeturning from a ride with a
Southern officer, he said, before going to the drawing-
room, " 1 11 go and fix my hands first," meaning wash
them ! I was driving round with a clergyman one
day when a farmer's wife, on whom he made a call,
said, " Do stop to dinner ; we 've got chicken fixings to
day." I suggested to my friend that, as a stranger in
the country, it would be desirable to see the style in
which chickens were fixed. So we stopped and had a
delightful dinner, but no chickens. I mentioned my
difficulty on the subject. " Oh," said our host, laugh
ing, "chicken fixings here mean anything out of the
common; we expected friends, and wife had an un-
VOL. II. Y
338 AMERICANISMS.
common good dinner to-day, that 's all." " Chicken
with fixings," " lamb with fixings," meaning along with
things that complete and give a relish to the dish — is
common enough everywhere ; but " chicken fixings," in
the sense understood by the farmer's wife, I never
heard used except in the west. There, too, they speak
of a "square meal," meaning one that is filling and
satisfactory. A Chicago lady said one day at table,
" This is the first square meal I Ve had since I left
home." "Fix" has many more applications than I
have mentioned. They speak of the fixings of a house,
meaning everything in it — movable furniture as well
as what we call " fixtures." They even call the house
a " fix." " You Ve got a nice fix," I heard one say to
a friend at whose house we were visiting. Another
gentleman, speaking to a newly-married friend, and
referring to his wife, said, with enthusiasm, " She 's a
delightful little fix ! " I had been forming an induction
as to the general meaning of this extraordinary word ;
but when I heard a lady called a little fix, it became a
mere conundrum, and I gave it up.
CANADIAN WINTEK. 339
XXVIII.
CANADIAN WINTER.
AN invitation to the Scottish celebrations at Mon
treal on St. Andrew's Day, took me to Canada in the
beginning of winter, and gave me a touch of Canadian
cold. They tell a story about somebody who took an
old- country thermometer out there, but found it of no
use. At the first nip of Canadian frost, the mercury
ran down into the bulb, and never showed face again
till the spring. If I had been the mercury on that St.
Andrew's Day in Montreal, it was exactly what I should
have felt disposed to do myself. I don't know in what
relation to zero the thermometers stood, but the cold
was intense, roads and ponds were hard as flint, the
great St. Lawrence, freezing fast, was giving off its heat
in clouds, like a hot horse on a cold day ; and a cutting
wind, that seemed to have come direct from the North
Pole, sharpening itself against icebergs all the way,
went through one's bones like a knife. I had never
felt such cold. It caught the breath ; it made the
moustache freeze instantly, and feel as if it would have
crackled off like fibres of sealing-wax. It got ' its hand
under the hat, and passed its cold fingers through the
roots of the hair ; it tweaked the nose with its frosty
pincers, and brought drops of ice- water into the eyes.
But nobody knows what Scottish fervour is till he
340 CANADIAN WINTER.
sees Scotchmen celebrating a national festival two or
three thousand miles away from home. The Caledonian
and St. Andrew's Societies of Montreal, with a patriotism
that disregarded the thermometer and defied the seve
rities of nature, turned out that day into the frost, and
marched in long procession through the hyperborean
streets with colours flying, and five bare-knee'd, blue-
nosed, but dauntless pipers of the gallant 78th blowing
pibrochs at the head of the column, leading it to a
Scotch church to hear the praises of Scotland from a
Scotch minister, and facing the withering wind on their
way back again as gallantly as they would have faced
the Fenians.
At night came the Caledonian public meeting, crowded
to the door with ardent patriots ; also the St. Andrew's
dinner, at which the gentlemen wore sprigs of heather
grown upon Scottish hills, and brought to America for
the express purpose of being worn that night. I cannot
trust myself now to conjecture how many dishes there
were at that national dinner. I know there was " plenty
much to eat" (as the Yankees say), and a great deal too
much to drink;1 but I remember that the great event
of the evening was the introduction of the immortal
haggis. The entry of Garibaldi into London, or John
Bright landing at New York, might give one an idea of
1 Reporters should be required to papers he was made to say that he
sign the pledge before entering upon had come to live in Canada, with
their duties at such meetings. One his head on the mountains and his
gentleman that night wound up an feet on the setting sun ! I was glad
eloquent speech with the remark, to see that next St. Andrew's day
that he hoped to spend his life in he repeated his remark, to allow a
Canada, and be laid at last in the sober reporter to extricate him from
cemetery behind the mountain, with the magnificently American, but ex-
his head to the setting sun, to sleep tremely uncomfortable attitude in
his last sleep in the land of his which the previous year's reporter
adoption. In one of the morning had left him.
"TOBOGGANS." 341
it. With pipers blowing in front, with pipers bringing
up the rear, in came the " king o' pudding race," borne
aloft by the excited waiter, amidst the deafening cheers
of the assembled patriots, who stood watching and
cheering it as it moved round the room, till they saw
it deposited triumphantly in front of the chairman. It
may be safely asserted that no Scotchman in America
ever thinks of tasting haggis at any other time; but
any one failing to show due honour to that mighty
symbol of Scottish nationality at the St. Andrew's
dinner, would be branded as a renegade and apostate
from the national faith.
Within a few days of my arrival in Lower Canada
the snows came, and the whole land was buried deep
under its white winter covering, never to show its face
again till the following spring. Everything running on
wheels now disappeared, and in the busy streets of
Montreal all the vehicles — carts, vans, omnibuses, wag
gons, and drays — were to be seen sliding on skates.
The very butchers' boys ran their baskets on little sleds.
Every now and then, on Beaver Hill, one would flash
past, shooting down the incline, sitting sideways on his
basket, with his leg sticking out behind for steering
purposes. Innumerable sleighs, with their beautiful
buffalo robes and silver-jingling bells, sped to and fro
in hundreds, filling the streets with music and gaiety.
Hundreds of youths were also out by this time with
their " toboggans," to begin the most glorious of winter
sports. The " toboggan" (Indian name) is a thin slip
of wood about a foot and a half wide, and four to six
feet long. The end that goes foremost is curled up, to
prevent it from catching the snow, or being checked by
any protuberance ; and the slider, when using it, either
342 CANADIAN WINTER.
sits on it, facing forwards, or lies with his side upon it,
as 011 a couch, resting on one elbow, that he may see
ahead. This kind of sledge, light as a feather, is taken
to the top of some incline — the clear slope of the
mountain is a favourite place at Montreal, as the Mont-
inorency Fall is at Quebec — the slider heads it down
wards, throwing himself on it in the posture described,
launches himself head-foremost over the brow of the
slope, and flies down with the velocity of a cannon-
ball. " Lightning is nowhar," as the Yankee said, " and
you have to hold your scalp on."
The Montreal people have also skating-rinks, such as
are seen also in New York. The skating-rink is a
beautiful square pond, forming, as it were, the floor of
a large airy hall, which is open from morning to night,
and is lighted up in the evening. In the entry-room
every subscriber has his own little pigeon-hole where
his skates are kept, so that he can step in and have a
skate as often as he feels disposed ; and as the ice lasts
in Canada for five months, it is not to be wondered at
that the Canadian skaters, ladies as well as gentlemen,
and indeed the Canadians generally, for they almost
all live within reach of river or lake, should display
such incomparable skill upon the ice. One of the
loveliest sights to be seen in America is a skating
rink on a masquerade night, when the place is bril
liantly illuminated with many- coloured lights, and the
skaters are all in costume.
One wlio spends any part of the winter in Canada,
soon begins to understand why it is that, in spite of its
length and severity, the Canadians speak of it with such
enthusiasm. It is the great season for social life and
enjoyment. Jack Frost has locked up the rivers and
COST OF FUEL. 343
ports, and buried the country deep under the snow.
Work is therefore over for a season, and the time for
pleasure is come. In the backwoods, where roads are
almost impassable in summer, the ice has converted
every river and stream into a smooth and polished
pathway for the fast-flickering skate or the flying sledge,
and people think nothing of a run of fifty or sixty miles
to see their friends. It is thus that the very severity of
the season brings compensation with it.
The houses in Lower Canada are built with a special
eye to winter comfort. They have double doors and
double windows, and are heated with stoves, or hot-air
pipes instead of open fires. People from this country
often go out with a prejudice against stoves, and begin
with open fires, but the first winter, sometimes the first
week of winter, converts them. Many houses heated
with stoves have also open fires in the public rooms
for the cheerfulness and home associations, but the
comfort of the house has to depend on the stoves and
hot-air pipes. These, in the better class of dwellings,
keep the whole house so equably heated, that the bed
rooms are as comfortable as the sitting-rooms, and the
hall and lobbies as comfortable as either. With the
outside temperature ten degrees below freezing-point, I
have sat in the house, sometimes in one room, some
times in another, reading or writing, with all the doors
to the lobby open, and have felt far more comfortable
than sitting over a fire at home, with a screen behind
me, and every door closed. All this of course costs
money. The friend with whom I lived at Montreal
said that fuel cost him about £100 a year, but his house
was large, and had a conservatory outside. A small
house of four or five rooms will burn up half a cord of
344 CANADIAN WINTER.
wood in a week — half a cord costing about 10s. in the
city, and 4s. or 5s. in the country. But then the house
is really warmed. The change, no doubt, is all the
greater when one goes out of doors, but the people dress
well, and warmly ; and the hardy Canadian, wrapt in
his furs, laughs and rejoices in a degree of cold that
would make us shiver even to hear of. The ladies,
besides their furs, wear a scarf called a " cloud," that
comes down over the ears and ties under the chin. The
capuchin, a hood attached to the neck of the cloak or
overcoat, and capable of being drawn completely over
the head, is also common. You sometimes see a waggon-
driver walking beside his horse wrapped in a thick coat,
his hands in huge gloves, and his head so completely
enveloped in the pointed hood, that nothing is visible
under it but the bowl of his pipe, and perhaps the point
of his nose, if he has a long one.1
Occasionally, about New Year time, there is a day or
two of change, with showers of sleet, but even then the
frost is sometimes so keen that the sleet freezes the
instant it touches the clothes, plating the unprotected
traveller with ice. A Canadian minister told me that,
1 The Canadian, in his fur-cap and with immense hairy gloves on
and huge hairy coat, presents so his hands, stepped forward in the
shaggy an appearance that mistakes snow and began feeling the harness.
are apt to occur. I was told at The woman of the house coming to
Doune, in Upper Canada, that the the door, and looking out through
late Dr. Burns of Toronto was on the thick - falling snow, discerned
one occasion nearly shot for a bear. this strange object, and cried out
He was driving with a friend through that a bear had attacked the horse.
a snow-storm, when something went Her husband came running out with
wrong with the harness. His com- his gun, and was taking a sight,
panion went into a farm-house which when he cried, dropping his piece
they were passing, for a bit of rope, suddenly, " Losh, womman, that 's
while the stout little doctor, dressed Dr. Burns ! "
in his huge bearskin-coat and cap,
FISHING THROUGH THE ICE. 345
at one of their Presbytery meetings, where an important
motion was to be made by an elder, the members of
Presbytery, having to drive through a heavy shower of
sleet, arrived in shining panoplies of ice. The elder,
who had to drive a longer way, was very late of appear
ing, and at length arrived with his immense beard con
verted into a solid mass, frozen like a piece of rock to
his overcoat, so that he could turn his head neither to
the right nor to the left. When he essayed to speak, he
found that his moustache was frozen firmly to his beard,
making it impossible for him, in spite of the most fright
ful distortions of his face, to get his lips separated. The
Presbytery had therefore to wait for half-an-hour, while
the elder sat down beside the stove and thawed himself.
These sleet storms are very rare. In general, all
through the winter, the sky is clear and blue, the frost
keen, and the air deliciously crisp and calm. So dry is
the atmosphere, that newly- fallen snow, not caked by
the sun, lies like dust. A kick of the foot sends it up
like a little cloud of smoke. I have taken some up,
and, after rubbing it between my warm hands, have
found that it still shook off as dry as flour.
Although for five months the great lakes are frozen
and converted into a level tract of country, fishing
does not altogether cease. The fishermen go out on
the ice, build huts with stoves in them, cut holes in the
ice-floor, and fish through. Salt-sea fish, however, can
be had in Canada all through the winter, the frost pre
serving them. If you go to the fishmonger's, he takes
an axe and chops off a cod for you from a huge mass of
frozen fish. If you only require a piece, he saws it off
just as he might saw a log of wood. It is the practice
with many housewives, when tfie frost comes on, to
346 CANADIAN WINTER.
have their chickens killed and put in a barrel, where
they freeze and keep fresh all through the winter. One
is taken as wanted, steeped a day in water to thaw it,
and then cooked in the usual way. This gives fresh
pullet all winter, and saves the cost of keeping the
fowls. The expense of feeding, when the country is
under snow, from December to March, would of course
be considerable.
DR. TODD AMONG THE PROPHETS. 347
XXIX.
•
" THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS."
AMONGST the myriads of little hearts which that
incomparable sermon- writer for the young, John Todd,
author of the Student's Manual, had touched with his
magic wand, mine was one. I still recall, with pecu
liar fondness, that little Sunday book at home — Todd's
Truth made Simple — over which I used to pore in the
years of my childhood, and some pathetic stories in
which I could never read aloud without bursting into
tears. I remember my utter amazement when I learned,
years afterwards, that Todd was still alive. From his
lectures being so much associated with Bible stories in
that sunny haze of infancy, he had become associated
in my mind with the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles.
If I had heard that he belonged to the time of John
Bunyan, it might have seemed less incredible, the Pil
grim's Progress and Todd's Lectures being companion
volumes in our infant library. But to hear that the
man who wrote Todd's Lectures still walked the earth,
and taught, and wrote, and preached, and could be seen
somewhere in America with the living eye, was like
hearing that a whale had disgorged the veritable prophet
Jonah alive on the coast of France, or that Paul and
Barnabas, on a preaching tour, had just arrived in
London.
348 " THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS."
I saw Todd for the first time in Boston, where he had
come from his home at Pittsfield, on the Green Moun
tains, to preach the opening sermon in his son's church.
His appearance, as he came upon the platform, is very
fresh in my memory. I can still see him take his seat
on the sofa at the back, and, while his son is reading
the opening hymn, take out his handkerchief and begin
to breathe upon his spectacles and wipe them, and see
if they are clear. Perhaps it was his lingering associa
tion in my mind with apostolic times that made me
surprised that he did not look older. ' His short hair,
standing straight up from his head, was only beginning
to turn grey ; his rugged face had a bronzed and weather-
beaten look ; and when he rose and laid aside his cloak,
and took his place at the desk, with one hand planted
against his side and the other on the Bible, he stood up
straight and vigorous as a man of thirty. His counte
nance, in repose, has a heavy and almost sullen expres
sion, but there is a beautiful and kindly light in his
grey eyes that glimmers through his square spectacles
and sheds a pleasant radiance over his whole face.
When he read the chapter and gave out his text, I
saw that he was going to address himself to the time
and the place. The subject was Paul at Athens ; " and
Athens," said he, " was to Greece just what Boston is
to Massachusetts." He took for his text the inscrip
tion,—" To THE UNKNOWN GOD ;" and the sermon that
followed was a fearless, strong, and yet affectionate
protest against the Unitarianism and intellectual con
ceit of " the Hub."
Todd is unmistakably American in the inflections of
his voice and in his pronunciation. You notice that
mercy is " mussy," God's work is " God's wuk," Eternal
DK. TODD AT HOME.
349
is " Etunnul," and so forth. But he speaks with strong,
precise, deliberate utterance, as one who is master of his
word and thought.
The cordial invitation he gave me to come and see
"the Old Man of the Mountains" (as he grimly called
himself) at his own home, took me a few weeks after
to Pittsfield.1 The joyous fortnight I spent there I shall
never forget. The Doctor himself, with his home- spun
shrewdness, his fund of anecdote, his hearty sympathy,
and his love of fun and innocent sport, was a perpetual
enjoyment. It was Saturday when I arrived, and, after
tea and prayers (which, as is usual in New England for
the sake of the children, immediately followed tea) the
Doctor took me to what he called his den. When I
suggested that a minister's study should never be in-
1 In Pittsfield stands " the old-
fashioned country-seat" which Long
fellow has immortalized in his beau
tiful poem entitled " The Old Clock
on the Stairs." In the days of Long
fellow's connection with it, it be
longed to the Appletons, and from
under its hospitable roof, many years
ago now, the poet took his bride.
It is a large white frame-house with
green lattices and dark shingle roof,
separated from the road by a sloping
lawn. It has passed into other
hands now, but " free-hearted hos
pitality " is still there, to welcome
the stranger at his board. Other
wise, the place is a good deal
changed. The tall poplar-trees no
longer throw their shadows across
the antique portico. They were cut
down because found too near the
house, and because they scattered
their seed over the lawn, making it
impossible to keep it clean. " But
you see," said one of the young
ladies, directing our attention to
the foot of the lawn, " we have a
row of poplars and elms along the
road. Papa says it is less poetic,
but more healthy. The antique
portico, too, was taken down, and
this modern one put in its place.
Papa says it is less poetic, but more
convenient."
The old clock on the stairs is also
gone ; but a counterpart of it— a
large heavy eight-day clock, with
pale face and massive frame, made
to correspond in every particular,
has been set in its place.
" Half-way up the stairs it stands,
And points and beckons with its
hands."
The original was removed by the
Appleton family, for preservation,
only a few years since. Dr. Todd
said he had seen it often.
350 "THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS."
vaded on a Saturday night—" Oh," said he, " my pre
parations are all over. I like to have my sermons
through on Friday. If I could, I would hunt and fish
on Saturday, and go to the pulpit on Sunday fresh and
vigorous."
Of sermon preparation, he said, " I never sit down to
prepare a sermon. I think it out beforehand, and let
the thoughts roll in my mind like pebbles in a brook,
till they are washed and rolled smooth and round. So
when I sit down to my desk I write with ease. I never
wrote a thing twice over."
Looking round the apartment, with its high book
cases, I observed near the window a tiny marble foun
tain, with three little marble boys standing on the edge
and looking down into the basin, from the centre of
which, covered by a dome of glass, rose a jet of water
that scattered about half way to the dome, and fell back
with a sweet tinkling sound into its marble-bed. The
Doctor went to the corner where the stop -cock was, to
show me how he could make the little fountain leap
higher and higher till the crystal drops pattered and
rained against the glass. He said that in hot weather
the very sound of the water kept him cool.
Over the archway that led into a little alcove walled
with books, I saw some fire-arms and bayonets, and
asked him where these strange ornaments for a minister's
study had come from ? " Some of them," he said, " are
relics of the war captured from the rebels. They were
sent me by members of my congregation who fought
and fell in the war. They sent these, but did not live
to come back themselves."
He got up and brought down one— a Spencer rifle —
which could be loaded in the stock with eight ball-
HIS IMPRESSIONS OF CANADA. 351
cartridges, fired eight times as fast as you, could pull
the trigger, and loaded again in a few seconds.
" When our boys were armed with these," said the
Doctor, grimly, " the rebels had no chance, and ran.
They used to say that we loaded on Sunday and fired
all the rest of the week."
He spoke with delight of the holidays he had spent
the summer before in Canada. " It made me feel like
a boy again," he said ; " and I laughed more in those
three weeks than I usually do in three years. We had
fine fishing on the great lakes. I won't tell you the
size of some of the fish we caught, or you will want
affidavits."
When I asked his impression of Canada, he said, —
" Oh, a fine country — immense, bigger than the United
States. Why, think of one of these vast lakes with
18,000 islands already on the map! We saw the
lumberers at work, and their mills busy, each mill eat
ing up a log every five minutes, day and night. At one
place we saw 120,000 dollars' worth of lumber piled up ;
and yet they have only touched the hem of the forest,
as if a child had gone in to cut a walking-stick. You
get land out there for sixpence an acre. Population
is going in fast — for lumber first, and farming after
wards. There are streams and falls enough to create
10,000 towns and villages. Canada is a great country.
I was not prepared for it."
Happening to tell him one day of the vivid impres
sion his ffafed's Dream had made upon me when I was
a child, and the peculiar enjoyment there was in being
allowed to read so funny a thing on Sunday, he said
the idea of that story flashed into his head one day
walking in the streets of New York. He could not tell
352 " THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS."
how, but it came like a vision, and he wrote it off in a
couple of hours.
Talking of Scotch churches and their opposition to
instrumental music, he said, — " Every change in your
country is like pulling a tooth ; but it is only a ques
tion of time. I wonder your people have endured what
they have so long. The singing I heard in some of the
country churches in Scotland was noise, not music."
Speaking of the old Puritan strictness, and of the so-
called Blue Laws of Connecticut, the Doctor said, — " I
have been amused to see that some of your writers
imagine that there really were such laws in New Eng
land. The whole thing is an absurd fiction, got up by
an English officer who lived for some time in Connec
ticut, but who disliked so much its strict Sabbath ob
servances, that when he went to New York he drew up
these pretended laws out of spite, and passed them off
for real enactments. It was not wonderful, perhaps,
that people so ignorant about us as the English were
should have been hoaxed into the belief that there had
really been laws in Connecticut making it penal for a
man to kiss his wife on Sundays, and all that nonsense ;
but to find some of your living writers still falling into
an error so preposterous, is very melancholy. What
would you think of an American writing about England
and quoting Jack and the Bean Stalk as an authentic
historical work !"
Speaking of the facts of New England life, the Doctor
said, — " When I was a boy we used to observe the
Sabbath from sunset to sunset ; and it was far better.
Saturday was preparation day. Now, people run the
world's business and pleasure up to midnight on Satur
day, and then on Sunday they are sleepy arid can't go
TODD'S MINISTRY. 353
to church. The old way was better and more scriptural :
' From sunset to sunset shall your Sabbath be/ I re
member in my childhood the bell used to ring before
sun-down, warning people to stop work. In some parts
of Vermont and Connecticut where the railway hasn't
gone, and where the people are simple and virtuous, the
Sabbath is from sunset to sunset still."
He had seen something about the Decalogue contro
versy in this country, and asked particulars.
" Depend upon it," said he, " if we give up Divine
authority for it, the Sabbath will go by the board. The
Germans here gave it up, and they hunt and fish on the
Sabbath, and are the lowest of our population in spiri
tuality. If recognition of Divine authority went in
among them it would elevate them year by year.
" It amazes me," he added, " that your people don't
look across to the Continent and see what they make
of the Sabbath there. I scarcely saw a shop shut in
Paris that was open during the week.
" As for the Decalogue, ' Thou slialt not' has a mighty
power over the people. No mistake about it. Give
Dr. Macleod my compliments, and tell him it is all
very well to speak of Christian principle, but we cannot
do without the law."
I spent two Sundays at Pittsfield, and heard Dr.
Todd preach both times in his own church. His con
gregation is large and prosperous— the largest, I believe,
in Pittsfield — and the Sunday-school, to which he has
always paid special attention, seemed to be attended by
nearly a third of the whole congregation — even the
elderly people forming themselves into classes for the
study and discussion of the Scriptures. This practice,
almost unknown here, is very common in America.
VOL. n. z
354 " THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS."
Todd was first settled at Northampton, and Dr.
Lyman Beecher (the father of Henry Ward Beecher and
Mrs. Stowe) preached his ordination sermon. He has
been a minister now for forty-four years, and, besides
discharging his pastoral duties with extraordinary ac
ceptance, has written thirty books, large and small,
some of which have been translated into different lan
guages. The Student's Manual has gone through a
hundred and thirty-eight editions.
His public life — so long and so eminently useful — is
now near its close. He means to retire when he reaches
the age of seventy ; and he is now within a year of the
goal. No minister, he thought, should remain in active
service after reaching that age ; he deserved rest, and
holding on longer, till his powers began to fail, was apt
to destroy his influence, and undo the work it had taken
him perhaps all his life to accomplish.
Since returning from America, I have seen that Dr.
Todd was present at the opening of the great Pacific
Eailway, and offered up the opening prayer, which,
from the Eocky Mountains where he stood, was tele
graphed all over the United States as the words were
being uttered. The rails had been run towards the
centre of the continent from both sides, and met on
the Eocky Mountains, where " the mountain wedding"
was consummated, the last blow upon, the golden spike
setting the bells of the whole continent ringing in
jubilee.
A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS. 355
XXX.
A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
DURING my sojourn at Pittsfield I paid a visit to a
settlement of Believers in the Second Appearing, more
commonly known as Shakers. These singular people
(" singular " in more senses than one, for they neither
marry nor are given in marriage) live in small com
munities that lie scattered about New England and
the State of New York. Like the Quakers, they are
distinguished by a peculiar and extremely simple dress.
No brocaded vests, no shirt fronts resplendent with
diamond studs, no fashionable coats, no stove-pipe hats
are ever seen on the Believing Brethren ; no chignons,
no crinolines or trailing skirts, no brooches, bracelets,
or sparkling ear-rings adorn the Believing Sisters. The
women attire themselves like the Quakers, but in
homespun cloth of plainer texture ; the men dress in
coarse pale-blue surtouts and broad -brimmed hats,
made of straw or felt, according to the season of the
year. They also cut their hair short across the fore
head and let it grow long behind.
Much more remarkable than their costume are their
social arrangements. They live and work not on the
competitive but on the co-operative system. Every
community is a family with a common purse, into
which go the profits of everybody's labour, and out of
356 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
which the wants of all are equally supplied. If two
persons join the community, one of them with a
thousand pounds the other with not so many pence,
it makes no difference in their after condition. They
throw their money into the common fund, and are
thereafter brethren standing on a footing of absolute
equality. They feed at the same table, live in the
same house, dress in the same fashion, share equally in
the common work, and benefit equally by the common
wealth.1
Further, as I have hinted, the Shakers are all celi
bates. The idea of marriage is banished from the
community as something belonging to a lower plane of
existence. The pattern of life with them is that of
sons and daughters in a family — men and women
living together exactly like brothers and sisters. If a
man and his wife join the community, they dissolve
the marriage tie, and become thenceforth brother John
and sister Jane. If they have brought their children
1 There are earlier stages of con- money you brought, you can de-
nection Avith the society not involv- mand no interest,
ing this cession of private property. These, however, are rudimentary
You can "novitiate," accepting stages, from which you are expected
the faith, but living at home and to pass (if you have not passed at
managing your own affairs. In that once) into the third or senior class,
case you are owned as a brother or in which you are admitted to the
sister in the gospel, so long as church order, have your vote in the
you live a pure and Christian life. government of the society, and have
Or you may go further, and take all things in common with the other
your place in the second or junior members. If you are bringing pro-
class ; living in the society, work- perty with you, you are not per-
ing for it, receiving the benefits of mitted to enter this order till you
it, and yet retaining the ownership have settled all just and lawful
of any property you have brought claims, both to your heirs and
with you. But if you leave the creditors ; so that the property you
community you can claim no wages ; now dedicate for ever to the Lord
and though you can take out the may be really and truly your own.
DRIVE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 357
with them, the children cease to be theirs in particular,
are handed over to the gentle " care-takers," and are
taught to look upon all their elders with equal eye, and
to forget that they are connected with brother John
and sister Jane any more than with the others.
It was to visit one of these singular communities
that I left Pittsfield one bright December day. It was
intensely cold, the thermometer standing sixteen degrees
below zero, and the whole country white and thickly
crusted with snow. But the sky and air were clear as
crystal ; not a zephyr stirred in the blue ether. It was
one of those glorious winter days of which America has
almost a monopoly. I was wrapped up for the journey
as I had never been in all my life before. I forget
how much underclothing I had on, how many pairs of
stockings, and how many coats and shawls, not to
speak of a huge pair of padded and hairy gloves, a size
too large for the polar bear. And yet I thought the
keen cold that caught my breath as we flew over the
snow, and held its icy fangs upon my face, would
have made an end of me before we got to the Shaker
village.
There was a little excitement attending the drive,
which probably helped to keep my blood in circulation.
It was the first time for the winter that the sleigh had
been out ; and what with the jingling of the sleigh
bells, and the dazzling whiteness of the snow, the horse
was excited to frenzy, and darted off several times like
a flash of lightning or Tarn o' Shanter's Meg with the
witches at her tail.
This brought us to the Shaker village much sooner
than we had expected ; but the prospect of getting our
358 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
half-frozen feet to a stove made us very glad to find
ourselves in the village square, in front of a neat, prim,
sharp-cut frame-house, over the door of which was
painted the word " OFFICE."
The Shakers have no hotels. The " office " is the
place where business is transacted with strangers, and
where friends and brethren from other settlements are
entertained without charge.
When we pulled up, there was no human being
visible out of doors ; but with everything buried under
the snow, and the thermometer so many degrees below
zero, we were not surprised at this. Suddenly, however,
a man, in the invariable broad-brimmed felt hat and
rough bluish surtout, made his appearance from some
place on the other side of the square, and came running
across the snow towards us. In the meantime, in
answer to our knock, the door of the office had been
opened by a pale, thin, elderly sister, with very prim
chin and very watchful dark eyes. She recognised my
companion, who had been there once before, and, in the
quiet, gentle, unimpassioned way, characteristic of these
people, invited us to enter, while the man, on learning
our errand, took charge of the horse and sleigh.
We followed the Shakeress (Sister Silby, as she was
called) within doors, and found ourselves in a large
bright entrance room, part of which behind a barrier
seemed to be used as a shop. Everything was scrupu
lously (almost painfully) clean, from the white pine
floor and the neat wooden chairs to the homespun dress
and cold white gauzy cap of the Shakeress herself.
Passing into another room, where equal cleanliness and
primness reigned, and where Sister Silby had been
sewing when we arrived, she set chairs for us beside
SISTER SILBY AND BROTHER IRA. 359
the polished stove, and proceeded with the duties of
hospitality, so sacred amongst the Shakers, by covering
a little table with a snowy little cloth, and preparing
to give us something to eat.
Presently the man — " Brother Ira/' as the Shakeress
called him — came in and sat down. He was a healthy-
looking man, with plump rosy cheeks, hair cut straight
across the brow, and small black shrewd twinkling
eyes.
He said, in reply to my questions, that this was the
family of Hancock, that there were a hundred and fifty
persons in the community, and that the number had
not increased for fifteen years.
It has, of course, to be remembered that, in a society
where there is no marriage, the number can only be
increased or even maintained by accessions from the
outer world.
" But we live long," said Ira. " The average age
at death here is sixty. One sister is ninety-nine. We
have no doctors, and illness is almost unknown amongst
us."
" One reason of that is," said the Shakeress, " that all
of us have work, but no one has too much. And we
are all comfortably housed and comfortably fed."
"And another reason is," said Brother Ira, "there is
no drinking here. You might live here a hundred
years but you would never see a drunkard. We use
no rum, no tobacco, and no strong tea."
"Who legislate and carry out the laws ?" I asked.
" We have the lead ; a ministry of four — two of each
sex. These are chosen by the society."
" Have you any police — any one to keep order in
your villages ? "
300 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
"Nay," said Ira, with a soft smile, "we all keep
order."
He added, "There is no crime amongst us. Why
should there be ? There is no temptation here to steal
or do wrong. No one is in want. No one lacks any
thing that another has. Every one shares equally."
" But other people might interfere with you. What
do * you do then ? Suppose I ran away with some of
your things, would you make no attempt to apprehend
me?"
" Everything here is the Lord's," said Ira, tranquilly.
" If you ran away with anything you would be stealing
from the Lord, and we, as faithful stewards, should
want it back."
" You would appeal to the law ? "
" Yea ; we appeal for protection when it is necessary.
But it is very, very rare. It is almost unknown."
After some further talk I went out with Brother
Ira to see the village. The Shakers are all workers.
In summer the males are chiefly employed in the
fields and gardens, which they cultivate with assiduous
and loving care, drawing more from the soil, it is said,
than any other farmers in the States. The women do
the home work — cooking, washing, weaving, knitting,
making the beds, and keeping the house clean; they
also distil rose-water and other essences, and prepare
preserved fruit for the market. It was winter now,
and brethren as well as sisters were all at work within
doors.
The feature that at once marked out this little
Shaker settlement from all ordinary villages was the
total absence of separate dwelling-houses, cottages, and
little shops. No separate households were here : all
THE WORKSHOPS. 3d
the inhabitants lived as one family, and one large
workshop took the place of several small ones. There
was one broomshop, where all the men engaged in this
branch of industry were at work together. There was
the dairy house, the granary, the seed shop, the boys'
shop, the aged brethren's shop, and so on. The largest
building of all was the dwelling-house — a vast, plain
red building, containing the public rooms and dormi
tories of the whole society — one wing (as in many
hydropathic establishments) being occupied by the
males, the other by the females, all of whom assemble
at meal hours and at their religious and social meetings.
They have three meals a day — at six, twelve, and six
again — each one engaging in silent prayer before be
ginning, and then eating in silence. The men sit at
one end of the table, the women at the other.
Ira, walking briskly — for the Shakers are an active
people, who lose no time over their work — led me to an
immense round building with stalls for fifty cattle, and
great quantities of hay stored above. He called my
attention to the long sloping platform rising to the
level of the upper floor, allowing waggons to drive right
up into the barn.
We looked into the beautifully-kept stalls, where the
cows were feeding. " We care for these too," said Ira,
clapping one of the cows with affectionate tenderness.
" We have our duties to them as well as to each other.
Every creature deserves in its own order."
The same feeling is cherished for plants. If a Shaker
sees a plant drooping, because perhaps it is on the
wrong side of a wall, he will shift its position as if it
were a child, simply to make it more comfortable and
happy.
3G2 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
We next visited the broomshop, where we found a
number of men at work — all of them with the same
tranquil and subdued expression. No excitement, no
friction, no competition enter these abodes of fellowship
and peace.
One old man, busy at his broom-making, was sitting
with his back to us.
" That is brother Joseph," said Ira. " Joseph was
married when in the world. His wife is here also.
But they are no more to one another now than brother
and sister. He is happier. Ask him."
Joseph was so dull of hearing that I had to go to
him and speak close to his ear. I asked him if
he really felt happier here than he had done in the
world.
" Yea," he said with a gentle smile. " It was hard
for the first year, but I am happier now."
When the old man asked me where I came from, and
I said " Scotland," Brother Ira said, " We have two
Scotchmen in the society."
A tall, thin, dark- eyed man, with his hair cut short
across the forehead, and hanging long behind, and with
a touch of the spirituelle in the cast and expression of
his face, sat in his rocking-chair listening. When he
saw me looking at him he said, " Mother Ann came
from your side of the water ; this society was founded
by her."1
1 Ann Lee was born in 1736, of fancy. Along with her parents, she
poor parents, in Manchester. In had become connected with a society
girlhood she was employed in a fonned of Quakers, who had been
cotton factory. She was afterwards brought under the influence of the
(much against her inclination, it is revivals which agitated Europe in
said) induced to marry a blacksmith, the early part of the eighteenth cen-
named Stanley, by whom she had tury. This society boldly testified
four children, who all died in in- the near approach of the second
MOTHER ANN. 363
I asked if it was the case, as was alleged, that they
prayed to Mother Ann.
" Nay," he said, " we do not pray to Mother Ann in
particular. We pray to God. But we desire the good
will of all departed spirits. The spirits of the departed
are everywhere. There are some here just now."
He looked tranquilly round as if he saw them.
I said I understood they regarded Mother Ann as
divine.
" She was divine," said he, " as Jesus was divine.
God appeared first in Jesus. But God is dual. Just
as man whom He made in His image is male and
female, so God is father and mother. God the Father
was revealed in Jesus : God the Mother was revealed
in Mother Ann. This was the Second Appearing."1
He said the Kingdom of Heaven was begun on earth
— that the Resurrection was going on — that he himself
and all those I saw around me had risen again, because
they had believed and were living the new life. Death
to them was nothing. It was merely the putting aside
of the visible garment of the flesh.
appearing of Christ. In 1770, Ann New Lebanon and Hancock. She
Lee began to speak like one inspired, died in 1784.
and from her revelations of God's * The similarity between this and
will and purposes, the society be- the Catholic doctrine of the Virgin
lieved that Christ had reappeared Mary is very apparent. The celi-
in her. Hence the name given her bacy of the Shakers also is the
of Mother in Christ, or Mother same in principle with the celibacy
Ann. In 1774, she declared that of the priests and nuns ; and the
she had received a revelation direct- Catholic doctrine of purgatory con
ing her to go to America, where the nects itself with the Shaker doctrine
Church of the Second Appearing that the future state is a state of
was to be established. She accord- probation, that souls are purified
ingly sailed for New York, and, after by suffering, and that ultimately
many vicissitudes, she and her fol- all will be saved. The Shakers also
lowers established a settlement at hold confession before men to be
Water Vliet, in the State of New essential to forgiveness.
York ; and others subsequently at
364 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
After visiting some of the other shops, where the
same soft sweet air of brotherhood reigned, we went
and saw the schoolmaster. Brother Calvin — Calvin
Fairchilds he would be called in the world — was attired
in the uniform dress of the brotherhood, and was a
youth of singularly prepossessing appearance. There
was a fine intellectuality about his fair, handsome face ;
his blue eye beamed with gentleness, and was not
without a pleasant glimmer of half-suppressed merri
ment. He was just at the age when the passions of
love and ambition burn most ardently ; but one could
see from the sweet serenity that showed itself in every
look and tone and gesture of this young Shaker how
completely the principles and life of the strange people
to whom he belonged had permeated and subdued his
whole nature.
When I asked if he had been amongst the Shakers
long, he said, " Yea ; since I was two years old." When
I inquired if he had seen much of the world, he said,
— " Nay ; and I think the less we see of it the better.
None of us travel much. We have plenty to do at
home."
When I asked about his duties, he said, — " We have
school for four months in winter. The scholars work
in the fields in summer ; so do I. We all work here.
If you joined us you would have to work too. The
girls get their schooling in summer. They are taught
by a female teacher."
When I" said that four months' schooling in the year
was not much, " Oh," said he, " intellectual culture does
not go for much here. We don't care about producing
intellectual drones, and lumbering up the mind with
the thoughts of other people. We go in for the useful."
A SHAKER'S DEFENCE OF CELIBACY. 365
" Do you read much ?"
" We have the Bible," he said, " and a few other
books ; and about a dozen newspapers come to the
society."
I asked him if he had seen what Hepworth Dixon
had said about the Lebanon Shakers. He said he had
not seen the book, but he had once seen an extract in
a newspaper. All he saw was very good and true.
He seemed perfectly satisfied of the soundness of
Shaker principles, and spoke eloquently in their defence.
" We are only following Christ," he said. " He and
His disciples had a common purse. They ate of the
same bread and drank of the same cup ; and after His
death all that believed, we are told, were tor/ether, and
had all things common."
He gave his views on the marriage question with
equal frankness. "I think it very plain," he said, "that
we are right and the world is wrong. If it is good to
marry, why did Christ not marry and show an example?
If it is better to have a wife than not, why did Paul
never have one, and why did he advise those who had
to be as though they had none ?"
I asked him what he made of God's command to
Noah to multiply and replenish the earth. " That," he
replied, " was the earthly order of things according to
the first Adam ; but Christ came to introduce a new
and higher order — the children of the resurrection, who
neither marry nor are given in marriage. You re
member what He said to Peter — There is no one that
leaves house or brethren or sisters or wife for My
sake, but he shall receive an hundredfold, even in the
present time — houses and brethren and sisters and
lands, ' with persecutions.' No wife you see," said the
366 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
young Shaker, with a comical wink. "'In the recompense,
the wife is left out and ' persecutions ' put in her stead.
But perhaps you think that is only another word for
the same thing !"
When I asked him if he expected their principles to
spread, he said with a serious air, — " They will spread
in God's good time."
I asked how it would be if the whole world became
Shakers, and marriage ceased — where the next genera
tion of Shakers was to come from ?
" Ah !" he said, " that is not our concern. Let us do
right, and leave the consequences to God. Out of the
stones, we are told, God could raise up children unto
Abraham if he pleased. Besides," he said, with that
quizzical look in his eye again, " you know the world
has to come to an end some time. Your people say it
will be burnt up ; seems to me our way would be
pleasanter than that !"
Before I left the settlement he gave me a little
history of Ann Lee. Opening the book to see what it
looked like, I came upon a slip of paper covered with
verses in manuscript. They turned out to be some of
the verses composed by the young Shaker himself, to
be sung at their meetings. I wanted to have them as
a specimen of Shaker hymnology, but could not per
suade the author either to part with them or let me
take a copy.
Most of the hymns sung by the Shakers at religious
services are original, and are supposed to be inspirations
from the spirit-land. When I asked the schoolmaster
what ground they had for supposing so, he said that
persons of no education and no gifts either of music or
versification would sometimes, at their meetings, break
SHAKER WORSHIP. 567
forth into song, in which both the air and the words
were entirely new. This kind of inspiration, he said,
was very common amongst them.1 They meet for
worship on four nights every week, and twice every
Sunday. They have no public prayers or preaching
from texts. They sing their hymns, and sometimes
have a little speaking if any brother or sister has any
thing special to say; then they begin their strange
" march " or dance (whence the nickname of Shakers)—
the singers in the middle and all the others going up
and down the room at a trot, keeping time to the music.
They found this peculiar practice in the accounts of
David dancing before the Lord, and they believe that
during this dance the Spirit of God comes and takes
possession of them.
The Shakers take nothing to do with politics — never
even use the electoral votes that belong to them. They
are like the Quakers in their peace principles, strict
truthfulness, and objection to oath-taking; and their
commercial integrity might be advantageously imitated
by many of those who are most ready to speak of them
1 Poor Calvin ! he is now in the old. The sound of carriage-wheels
spirit-land himself. While these hastening away as the church door
sheets were going through the press was opened was the only indication
I received a letter from the friend of how he came there, and was to
who was with me at the Shaker him the last echo from the outer
village, in which, referring to our world. He was taken care of by
visit, she says, — " I noticed the the Shakers, and got his name by
other day the end of Calvin Fair- Shaker authority. As he grew up
child's sacrifice in the brief an- to manhood he became an enthusiast
nouncement of his death from pul- in the stern and dreary life to which
inonary complaint, at the early age he had been consigned. Whence
of twenty-seven. His parentage is he came and whither he has gone
not known. It. seems that he was no one can tell. But let us hope
left at the door of the Shaker church that he has at last found a Father
at Hancock by parties unknown, and a home in the better land. "
when he was a child of two years
3G8 A DAY WITH THE SHAKERS.
with derision. If you buy a Shaker brush or cart or
chair, or Shaker vegetables or rose-water or preserved
fruit, you may rely on its being of the best, and never
anything but what it professes to be. Hence Shaker
goods are everywhere in demand. Even in regard to
the practice of celibacy, we may admire self-restraint
and self-discipline, even if they proceed from an errone
ous view of duty. That was a memorable saying of
John Sterling's, " The worst education that teaches
self-denial, is better than the best that teaches every
thing else and not that."
One feels the more free to admire this quality in the
Shakers that it is not likely at its present rate of pro
gress to precipitate the end of the world. There are
only some eighteen Shaker communities in the States ;
arid these are very small, giving in the aggregate an
almost stationary Shaker population of about 6000 souls.
This, in a rapidly increasing population of nearly forty
millions, is like one unproductive stalk in a field of
corn, or a thimbleful of sand taken from the sea- shore.
It says something for so small a handful of people that
they have made themselves a name for incorruptible
honesty throughout the whole country.
NEWSPAPERS. 369
XXXI
NEWSPAPERS.
AMERICA is a world of newspapers. More dailies
are published in the single State of New York than
in all England, Scotland, and Ireland put together — the
number in Britain being about 60, and in New York
State over 70. Even South Carolina in 1861 had over
50, and Louisiana over 100.1
The newspaper is half the life of an American. Even
in some prisons they supply each criminal with the
morning prints. A ruffian may be deprived of his
liberty, may be locked up in a cell, may be cut down
as to his victuals, but to deprive him of the morning
papers is too shocking a cruelty for Americans to think
of inflicting. They tell a story in North Carolina about
a minister who preached the terrors of the law for a
whole hour to a godless congregation without producing
1 The total number of papers of hours in crossing the Atlantic. In
all kinds published in the States the New York Exchange I have
approaches 5000, while in 1704 there read telegrams at nine in the morn-
was but one. That one was the ing which were dated " Liverpool,
Boston News Letter, which has a noon." If a great explosion takes
speech of Queen Anne's, four months place in London this evening, the
old, amongst its "Latest News!" New York people have read about
Now, the Queen's Speech is read in it in their afternoon papers two or
New York several hours by the three hours by the clock before its
clock before we have it here. The occurrence,
telegraph outstrips the sun by five
VOL. II. 2 A
370
NEWSPAPERS.
the slightest impression. But when he announced that
bad people when they died went to a place where
there were no newspapers, a thunderbolt seemed to fall
amongst them. They turned pale, and, according to the
story, were all converted.
Every small town or smaller "city" must have
its own newspaper, or if not one then two, which
fight each other, and by exciting local interest in
their squabbles, contrive to live where one would
die.
The language with which these editors fight one
another is more remarkable for its force than for its
elegance. To call the other man a vampire, miscreant,
and liar, and his adherents a pack of vagabonds and
thieves, is considered by many the most spirited way
of dealing with his arguments.1
An Alabama editor, who showed me his paper one
1 Even the New York papers are
not guiltless of this kind of writ
ing. When the Louisville Journal
charged the New York Herald's
reporter with stealing its despatches,
the Herald responded by calling
the Journal " an impudent one-
horse Kentucky concern, conducted
by a walking whisky-bottle." The
Journal, while edited by Prentice,
gained a name for the pungency of its
personalities. Here is a specimen
or two : " The editor of the Star
says there is reason in all things.
He had forgotten his own skull."
— "The editor of the Eastern Argus
is melancholy in his reflections upon
the close of the year, and says he
will soon be lying in his grave.
We thought he would have stopped
lying when he got there. But the
ruling passion is no doubt strong in
death." Owing to personalities of
this sort, Prentice often got into
fights, and was several times at
tacked and severely wounded. He
died in January of this year (1870).
Brick Pomeroy, of the La Crosse
Democrat, now stands at the head
of this class of writers. He lacks
Prentice's wit, but excels him in
abuse. One specimen will satisfy
most readers. Here are his com
ments on a photograph of General
Butler: — "We behold here the
hideous front of hell's blackest imp ;
Apollyon's twin brother ; the Grand
High Priest of Pandsemonium ; the
unclean, perjured, false-hearted pro
duct of Massachusetts civilisation ;
the meanest thief, the dirtiest knave
God ever gave breath to : total de
pravity personified; that baggy-faced
fruit of perdition, Beast Butler !"
THE SCISSORS. 371
day, asked what I thought of the leading article. I
told him candidly that in this country such language
would ruin any respectable paper in a month. He
seemed to accept this testimony to the strength of his
diction as the highest compliment I could have paid
him.
While this sort of writing is the thing that from its
novelty strikes a stranger from this country most, it
must not be supposed that it is the ordinary pabulum
which these papers provide. On the contrary, the mass
of American journals crowd from five to fifty columns
every day with information of all kinds, much of it
collected from other papers not accessible to local
readers. Editors in country districts, who have not
only to edit, but sometimes to print and publish their
own papers, or who have cigar and stationery shops to
attend to as well, have little time, and often as little
ability for the production of original matter. In such
cases the scissors are more in use than the pen ; and
the paper is frequently filled from high-class journals
with material of far greater value than the editor could
have himself written or paid for.
The practice of making exchanges, which is carried
on to an extraordinary extent over the whole length
and breadth of the United States, greatly assists this
work. The editor of every respectable paper, in even
the smallest village, gets ten, twenty, fifty, or a hundred
other papers from different parts of America in exchange
for copies of his own. The Government carries all these
through the post-office free of charge. It knows how
much the safety of a republic depends on having the
sovereign people well-informed ; it knows how impor
tant an educator the newspaper is ; and every day in
372 NEWSPAPERS.
the year it floods the country with hundreds of thou
sands of these " exchanges/' pouring into every editor's
office a cargo of newspapers gathered from other quar
ters, helping him in this way to keep himself and his
readers " posted up " (as the expression is) in the affairs
of the State and the nation.
The New York journals still hold the foremost place
in the country. Three of the most prominent are the
Tribune (Kadical), the Herald (rotatory), and the World
(Democratic) — otherwise distinguished from each other
as the World, the Devil, and the Flesh. The Tribune
earned its carnal title by at one time advocating Free
Love. Its editor, Horace Greeley, one of the most
eccentric, but at the same time one of the most able of
American journalists, has in his time advocated almost
every reform made or attempted in the States. His
Recollections of a Busy Life would be well worth perusal
on that ground alone. He was long a champion of
Female Suffrage, but has given it up, because he declares
that women don't want it themselves.
The Tribune probably circulates over a wider area
than any other paper in America. I found it every
where, even in the South, where its principles were
most detested. But the Herald is understood to have
the larger circulation, and the daily issue of the two
combined is so immense as to exceed the circulation
of all the daily papers in Scotland put together. In
1862 the circulation of the Herald was up to 123,000
a day, or about three-quarters of a million every
week.
The editorial " we," however, is not so omnipotent in
America as here. The New York Herald, with double
the circulation of the London Times, has scarcely a
NEW YORK PAPERS. 373
tithe of its influence. Had the position of the press,
and specially the position of the Herald, been better
known in this country during the war, the disastrous
mistake would never have been made of supposing
that its bluster against Great Britain was the voice of
America. Its immense circulation had quite another
meaning. People bought the Herald then as they buy
it now, less for its politics than for its news. As a
caterer of news it deserves credit for being the most
active and enterprising in New York — perhaps in the
world. It spares neither trouble nor expense to be
first and fullest.1 It has its agents and correspond
ents everywhere, all of them empowered to make
the freest possible use of the telegraph. Its tele
graphic reports of the Abyssinian war — though the
war was British, not American, and though the news
had to come by England and through the Atlantic
cable — were longer, and often made public sooner, than
our own.
The New York Times is another influential journal.
The Post, edited by the venerable poet, William Cullen
Bryant, is an evening paper. Amongst the legion of
weeklies, one of the most conspicuous is the In
dependent, even more radical than the Tribune, and
edited by Theodore Tilton, a brilliant writer, whose
talents were first recognised and brought before the
1 Most people have heard of its Bennett. It was done at a cost of
spirited monopoly of the wires $700, and still the Prince was not
when the Prince of Wales visited come. "What now?" telegraphed
Niagara. The Prince was behind Mr. House. " Book of Revelation,"
time. Mr. House (Herald's re- replied Mr. Bennett. The Apoca-
porter) telegraphed to the editor lypse was instantly begun and was
— " What is to be done to keep the in course of being transmitted when
wires in our hands ?" " Telegraph the Prince arrived, and the Herald's
the Book of Genesis," replied Mr. triumph secured.
374 NEWSPAPERS.
public by Beecher. Beecher himself writes for the
Independent, and edits The Christian Union, a new
weekly, which is already taking a foremost place
amongst the religious periodicals. Several German
and Irish papers are published in New York ; also the
Scottish American Journal, the only representative of
Scottish nationality in the States.
CHURCHES. 375
XXXII.
CHURCHES.
IN America a broader distinction is drawn between
the Church and the world than here. In some de
nominations, nobody is called a Christian until he
becomes a church member. I heard a lady say of her
niece, " She is going to become a Christian next week."
Membership in such cases means a great deal — the
renunciation of much that is not forbidden to others, a
higher profession, and the undertaking of some active
Christian work. In many churches, the first question
to a fresh communicant is, " What are you prepared to
do ? Can you visit the sick ? Can you conduct a prayer-
meeting ? Can you teach in the Sunday-school ? " and
work is assigned accordingly. This develops Christian
activity, and makes the Church a greater power for
good. In religion, as in politics, the Americans are
go-ahead, full of work, plans, and projects, preferring
the risk, of rushing into errors to the irksomeness of
standing still.
The clergy occupy a somewhat different position in
America from what they do in this country. There is
no such distinction there as Churchman and Dissenter
— no sect lifted up by the civil power to a position
from which it can look down on others. The State
secures to no American clergyman that glorious in-
376 CHURCHES. '
dependence which a minister of the Establishment
enjoys here, and which is alwa}7s so comfortable a
thing for him, and sometimes so uncomfortable a thing
for his flock. The American clergyman, whether he be
Presbyterian or Baptist, Episcopalian or Independent,
has to depend entirely on his ability to supply the
spiritual wants of his people. If he prove himself
indisposed or unable to do that, no respect is shown
him on account of his cloth ; he is paid off with as
little ceremony as a bungling lawyer or a useless clerk.
This dependence on the people has its disadvantages.
It tends to make dumb dogs of many who would like
to bark, and who see plenty to bark at, but who want
the courage to offend the people on whom they depend
for their salary. As a practical restraint, however, this
acts far less than might be expected, as is evident from
the fact, that American ministers (like many ministers
of Voluntary churches here) are found speaking out
quite as boldly as any ministers of the Establishment.
But even in regard to salary, no American minister of
ability needs to fear. If he loses one congregation he
gets another, and if he cannot preach he can take out a
patent.
Some of the American clergy are paid very hand
somely. Beecher is said to get $15,000, and probably
makes $2000 more by his lectures, not to speak of his
books. Dr. Hall, formerly of Dublin, now of New York,
gets $GOOO in gold, and a free house, making his stipend
equivalent to $9000 — the largest given by any Presby
terian church in America. Eobertson of Brooklyn is
said to have nearly as much. In Dr. Mackleroy's church
in New York (Scotch Presbyterian) there are two pas
tors, each receiving a stipend (or salary, as the Ameri-
AMERICANS TAUGHT TO SPEAK. 377
cans call it) of $5000 ; but $5000 in New York at
present is not worth much more than $3000 here. In
other words, a minister in any English or Scotch city,
with a stipend of £500, is as well off as a minister in
New York with a salary of $4000. Moreover, the
salaries I have named are what may be called the prizes
of the Church. The average income of a minister is
only $800 or $900, equal to about £100 or £150
here ; so that very few American ministers will be
called upon to make the experiment of the camel getting
through the eye of the needle, though it is just the kind
of experiment which an ingenious Yankee would be
glad to try.
In American preaching, there is little of what is
called exposition of Scripture. Almost all sermons are
" topical," — a text being put up as a peg on which the
minister hangs his own views of the subject. I scarcely
ever heard Scripture expounded verse by verse, as is so
much the practice in Scotland. Northern and Southern
preaching differ somewhat. Northern preaching is more
interesting, with a tendency to be less orthodox, and
perhaps less reverent. But it is one of the effects of
the Voluntary system, both North and South, to make
it almost impossible for a very bad preacher to earn his
livelihood in the church. American sermons, if not
often profound, are generally earnest and instructive,
and never contemptible. In manner and delivery,
the preachers, and public speakers of all kinds, con
trast favourably with ours. Every child there is en
couraged to speak up before its seniors ; and at school
it is the constant practice to make children rise and
explain things at length, not to answer, as with us, by
a mere word. They are also called to the platform, and
378 CHURCHES.
taught to recite before the whole school. This helps to
account for the remarkable ease of address which dis
tinguishes the Americans as a people. This very facility
no doubt tends to wordiness and inflation of language.
One Pennsylvania minister began in prayer, — " 0 ever-
revered ! on this serene morning, when we may con
template the divine manipulations of Thy hand." This
sort of thing is not so often heard in the sermons, which
are generally written and read.1
Great attention is paid in America to the psalmody.
Every church that can afford it has an organ or a choir,
or both. Where there is only an organ, the congregation
generally sing ; where there is a quartette choir, it is
common for the people to remain silent and listen. I
have seen a fashionable congregation of fifteen hundred
people, while a hymn was being sung, sitting like an
audience at an opera, many of them turned half round
to watch the choir. The finest professional singers are
often engaged, and fill the church, whatever be the
1 In ministers as in newspapers, especially those on slavery, was
New York (counting Brooklyn as more terrible than they could de
part of it) bears the palm. After scribe. " Even on his way to the
Beecher, in celebrity, come Hall, pulpit/' said one, " his visage seem-
Cuyler, and Storrs ; Frothing!) am, eel sharpened into an arrow-point
the Unitarian, and Chapin, the Uni- dipped in gall. His pictures of the
versalist. Cheever, whose name is sin of slavery burned into the
better known in this country than brain."
most of these, has sunk into com- Some of his own people said he
parative obscurity. Twelve years went mad on the subject of slavery.
ago he was a power. He had a The whole Bible became in his hand
large congregation of his own, and a thunderbolt against the South. It
crowds assembled to hear the po- was all fire and sword. Not a single
litical sermons which he used to text, from the first of Genesis to the
preach on the Sunday evenings, and last of Revelation, that he did not
which were regularly advertised in barb and dart at the accursed system
the papers. I was told by many and all who upheld it . This became
who heard him, that the impression too much even for ardent Abolition-
made by some of these sermons, ists, and his congregation dwindled.
THE GREATER AND LESSER LIGHTS. 379
quality or creed of the minister. The singing in such
churches tends to become the most important part of
the service. One gentleman, a Unitarian in Boston,
told me that he had to change his seat from near the
door, to avoid the disturbance caused by people going
out when the choral- singing was over, and before the
sermon began. They tell a story about some minister,
who announced that, as the singing had occupied longer
than usual, the sermon would be postponed till some
more convenient season. Some of these choirs are main
tained at great cost. In one Presbyterian church in
Fifth Avenue, New York, the leader has a salary of
$1500 for singing during two services. Another Pres
byterian congregation in the same city pays its quartette
choir $3200 annually. In. some churches the choir costs
more than the minister. These, of course, are extreme
cases ; but in all the churches the service of praise is
receiving increased attention.
In building and fitting up their churches, the Ame
ricans are very careful to make them comfortable.
Still he had clone his work. People was being dismantled. On passing
could not forget those pictures he one day, I found brokers' bills plas-
had drawn. Some of the men who tered over the front walls, announc-
f oil owed M'Clellan into the swamps ing that the windows, doors, seats,
of Chickahominy, and streamed over and fixings generally were for sale,
the breastworks at Petersburg, were Few people seemed to know where
set on fire by Cheever. But slavery or how he was now employed. Ame-
went down, and Cheever is left like ricans live too much in the present
an Armstrong gun after peace has and in the future to trouble them-
been proclaimed. I found that he selves long about any man whose
was living in retirement away far work is done. A living dog is better
out of the city, somewhere near than a dead lion, and the unknown
Sixtieth Street. The handful that man who has something new and
remained of his former congregation practical to propose, has more atten-
still met, I think, in some hall ; but tion paid him than the man, no
the big grey church, the scene of matter how great a power he once
Cheever's glory before the war, was was, who can only point to the
last abandoned, and when I was there past.
380 CHURCHES.
You have never to sit through a long sermon on the
sharp edge of a hard plank seat, or stand through a long
prayer in a cramped position, with the seat against the
back of your knees, and a hard bookboard making an
impression on your stomach. The pews are all wide,
the seats cushioned, the floor carpeted, and the whole
church comfortably heated.
The same rule is observed in the lecture-hall attached
to almost every church, — used for prayer-meetings
and social gatherings. It is a common complaint in
this country that people will not come out to prayer-
meetings. The inference drawn is that they are indif
ferent to the interests of their souls. But it ought to
be remembered that man is a composite being, with not
only a soul but a body. A person who goes once to a
prayer-meeting, and sits listening for an hour in a dim,
cold, echoey church, with one draught blowing on the
nape of his neck and another on his feet, must be in
spired with the heroism of an ancient martyr if he
returns again. The Americans very wisely take care
that the place in which they hold their prayer- meetings
shall be well heated, well lighted, well carpeted, and
well furnished, so that the body shall be comfortable
while the soul is being fed. It makes attendance at
the prayer-meeting a less conclusive test of spirituality
than it is with us ; but it brings the people out who
are most wanted. More variety is also introduced into
the exercises. I have attended such meetings, where
not only the minister, but half-a-dozen of the people
took part in the proceedings — one praying, another
reading, another giving some experience in his mission-
work, hymns coming in between, and no person being
allowed to speak for more than five minutes at a time.
SPIRITUALIST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 381
One goes to such a meeting with pleasure, and comes
away refreshed.
The same wisdom is seen in the arrangements con
nected with the Sunday-schools. To these schools
great importance is attached in America ; and the
buildings are often designed and furnished expressly
for Sunday-school purposes. I remember one in Lee
Avenue, Brooklyn, which, by means of sliding glass
walls or doors, can be changed at any moment from one
school into four, or from four into one. The purpose of
this is to allow of different exercises being carried on in
each department without disturbing any of the others.
At the beginning the whole school is one, and joins in
the same hymn and prayer. As soon as these are over,
the superintendent touches a bell, and the glass walls
run together, shutting off from sound, not from sight,
the wings and further end of the building. Lessons
then begin in all departments, the infant classes in
their wing behind the glass wall, singing every five or
ten minutes, without disturbing the others. When the
time comes for the closing exercises, the bell is again
touched, the glass doors slide back, and the school is
one again. The superintendent examines or addresses
for five minutes ; and, after a hymn and a word of
prayer, the signal is given, and the classes one by one
march out.
In Philadelphia I visited a Spiritualist Sunday-
school, or as it is technically called, a Progressive
Lyceum. The scholars were all arranged according to
age, the youngest in the front ; and at the end of each
row stood a gilded banneret with the distinctive title
of the class,— as " Fountain group," " Eiver," " Garland,"
"Vesper," and giving the age of the pupils in that
382 CHURCHES.
seat, "four years old," "five years old," and increas
ingly, "back to the seats where the young ladies might
not care to have their ages specified, and where, there
fore, there was nothing on the banneret but the name
of the group. The exercises began with arm and step
gymnastics, on Dio Lewis's system ; after which a
march was struck up on the piano, and class after
class marched past the front of the platform, where
little flags were handed to them. In five minutes the
whole 300 or 400 pupils were marching and counter
marching through the school, with 200 or 300 flags
flying, presenting a scene of extraordinary animation
and beauty. As the marching drew to a close, each
class re-passed the platform, handing back its flags ;
and, in five minutes more, was in its place again.
The superintendent explained to me that their idea
was the education of the whole being — body, soul, and
spirit. In accordance with this plan, the physical
exercises were followed by songs, recitations, and
questions ; and these by hymns and prayers recited
by the whole school. The younger children then dis
persed, and their places were taken by their parents,
when a sermon was delivered by one of their female
trance-speakers, and the service closed. This system
was devised by Andrew Jackson Davis, a spiritual
visionary after the order of Jacob Behmen and
Emmanuel Swedenborg, and author of the most re
markable books produced by this class of religionists
in America. -
The great success of Sunday-schools in the States is
partly due to the fact that the very best and most
competent people in the church are amongst the
teachers, including thousands of persons occupying
OBSERVANCE OF LORD'S DAY. 383
high social positions. You find merchant-princes, gene
rals, and Judges of the Supreme Court, as attentive
to Sunday-school work as to their week-day employ
ments. No work is considered nobler, or worthy of
more careful study. I have lived with merchants who
spent an hour every day in preparing for their Sunday-
schools and classes. Is it wonderful that, with en
thusiasm and serious preparation like this, these
schools should have so far outstripped ours in effi
ciency and success ?
The fact that common school education must be
entirely, or almost entirely secular, and that the
religious education of the young must depend on the
parents and the Church, has greatly stimulated the
movement, and invested it with a national importance.
The Sunday-school teachers in each county meet
regularly in convention, to arrange plans for the better
working of the system ; all these conventions send
delegates to a convention for the State, and the con
ventions of the various States send delegates to the
National Convention, which meets in Washington or
Philadelphia, and which may be called the United
States Sunday -School Congress. The movement is
thus assuming rapidly the form of a great national
system for the religious upbringing of the young. It
is reckoned that 5,000,000 scholars are being trained in
these schools. The Methodists alone have more than
a million and a half of children in theirs.
Sunday observance in America is much the same as
in England, with a few differences arising out of the
peculiarities of the country. The steamers sail on the
great lakes and rivers on Sunday and Saturday just as
ours do on the open sea, a few trains run, and in all the
384 CHURCHES.
cities the street- cars ply as usual — the distances in
American towns being greater than in ours, and the
Americans being very averse to long walks, especially
in 90 degrees of summer heat, or 20 degrees of winter
cold. Newspapers printed on Saturday night are pub
lished on Sunday, even in places where none are printed
as ours are on Sunday to be published on Monday morn
ing. Where the German element is strong the Sunday
laws are laxer, and halls and pleasure-gardens are open,
where the Teutons are wont to assemble, with their
wives and little ones, to talk, smoke, drink lager-beer,
and listen to music from an instrumental band. But over
almost the whole continent, even in vast cities like New
York, Philadelphia, and Chicago, business is suspended,
and shops and public-houses closed — all this by the de
cision of the sovereign people legislating for themselves.
The circumstances of America have been in many
respects peculiarly unfavourable to moral and spiritual
development. There has been much in her history to
foster the delusion that the regeneration of mankind
may be accomplished through material comfort, free
schools, and the ballot, with or without religion. And
yet nowhere in the world has Christianity been making
more progress. In 1800, when the population was
5,000,000, the church membership was 350,000; in 1860,
when the population was 30,000,000, the church mem
bership was found to have increased to 5,000,000. In
other words, the proportion of avowed Christians to the
entire population had far more than doubled — having
increased from one in every fifteen to one in every six.1
1 The principal evangelical churches byterian, Episcopal, Baptist, and
in America are the Methodist, Pres- Congregational. The following list,
CHURCH PROPERTY.
385
From Maine to California more than 45,000 places of
Christian worship, capable of accommodating 20,000,000
people,have been erected by voluntary contributions; and
represent church property to the value of £40,000,000
sterling.
It must be very amusing to the Americans and to
any person who has visited that country, to see the
based on the census of 1860, indi
cates their relative strength and
position : —
Protestant Episcopalians —
Churches,
Members,
Congregationalists —
Clmrches,
Members,
Presbyterians —
Churches,
Members,
Baptists —
Churches,
Members,
Methodists —
Ministers,
Members,
2,110
135,700
2,500
257,600
6,000
550,000
17,000
1,490,000
14,000
. 2,000,000
The Roman Catholics number
about 4,000,000 ; but it has to be
remembered that the Romish Church
counts not by membership", but by
population. For its four millions
of people, it has only 4000 churches
and chapels ; while the Presby
terians, for their half-a-million of
members have 6000. The member
ship in a Presbyterian Church re
presents but a fraction of its people.
The Methodists, with 2,000,000
members, claim 8,000,000 hearers.
The Spiritualists are very numerous
in the States, but being for the most
part mixed up with other denomina
tions, it is difficult to ascertain their
VOL. II.
real strength. There are said to
be 60,000 public and private me
diums, 500 public speakers, many
of them women ; 2000 places open
for public circles and conferences ;
2,000,000 "decisive believers," and
5,000,000 nominal. But this com
putation has been made by Spiri
tualists themselves, and the last
items are very likely, from the way
they have of reckoning, to be huge
exaggerations. Besides the deno
minations mentioned, there are
numerous little sects — Perfection-
• ists, Tunkards, Cosmopolites, Demo
cratic Gospelites, Ebenezer Social
ists, Sand-hillers, Soul-sleepers,
Gome-outers, etc., etc., etc. There
are also Avowed Atheists — a class
once numerous, but apparently
dwindling. An American corre
spondent of the Scotsman, whose
letters contain much valuable in
formation on America, reported,
last November, that a NATIONAL
CONVENTION of Atheists, Infidels,
and Secularists had assembled at
Philadelphia. This National Con
vention was attended by seventeen
persons, including one female ! The
Committee reported several meet
ings got up at a loss of £10 ; while,
on the other hand, the sale of infidel
pamphlets had yielded 18s. 6d. for
the year !
2 B
386 CHURCHES.
terror of some people here that the Church will come
down if State support is withdrawn. The entire
support given to the Established Church in Great
Britain, amounts to less than five million pounds, while
the support voluntarily given to their churches by the
Americans amounts to seven millions and a quarter.
Nor do they stop with supporting themselves. All over
the world American missionaries are to be found main
tained by these voluntary Churches, — one of which
(the Methodist Episcopalian) has raised for home and
foreign missions £200,000 in a single year, besides a
centenary thank-offering of £1,000,000 for collegiate
and charitable purposes. Such facts furnish a reason
able hope that in this country also, even without the
crutches of the State, the Church of Christ will be able
to stand.
FREE SCHOOLS. 387
XXXIII.
FREE SCHOOLS.
NOTHING in America excited my admiration more
than the system of common schools. To form an idea
of it as carried out in the North, suppose a fisherman's
net spread oat upon a lawn; suppose the lawn to be
the States ; suppose all the little squares made by the
net to be the school sections into which the States are
divided ; you have there a bird's-eye view of the whole
country as divided for educational purposes. Every
little square has its public school or schools, where all
the children in that section — the children of the poor
as well as of the rich — can go, free of charge, and get a
good English education. To the regular schools over
this vast area, add a plentiful sprinkling of Grammar
and High Schools also free; wherever there are
centres of population add clusters of schools and
colleges, and you have before you a picture of the pro
vision made by America for the education of her people.
It is a magnificent development of the old Scottish
system of parochial schools and endowed colleges.
The system is supported by a school-tax imposed by
the people upon themselves. In many places this tax
amounts to a mere trifle, by reason of the large amount
of land originally appropriated for school purposes and
rising in value ; and also by donations of money made
388 FREE SCHOOLS.
by private persons. But even at the heaviest the
school- tax is very much lighter than the burden we in
this country have to bear in supporting a system much
less successful.1 Each district taxes itself according to its
wants, and regulates its educational affairs through a
committee acting within the limits of the general laws
affecting schools. It follows that in some States and
townships the teachers are better paid, the schools
better, and education carried to a higher point than in
others. In many of the States, not only can the
poorest child enter the Common School and get instruc
tion in all the branches of an English education, but
by passing the requisite examinations he can proceed
from the Common School to the High School, and from
the High School to the College, the State paying for
his education from first to last.
As yet the system is only working itself towards
completeness. It has failed in the larger cities to bring
in the lowest class of children for want of a compulsory
law; while, on the other hand, numerous private
academies are supported by people who pay the tax
gladly to support the public schools, but are, or profess
to be, afraid to let their own children commingle with
1 Mr. Zincke, in his admirable her 600,000 scholars ! Even in
work published in 1869, shows by Massachusetts, where the education
dividing the amount of school taxa- is best, it costs but twenty-five
tion by the number of scholars, that shillings a year for each ; and in
the average cost of a boy's education New York, where the tax is heaviest,
in America _is only about eleven education is still much cheaper than
shillings a year,— less than the with us,— the cost per pupil being
price of a decent hat ! He declares thirty shillings a year, while with
that the two English schools of us even a tradesman to give his
Eton and Harrow cost the boys' children anything like the same
parents more than the whole State education, will have to pay five or
of Illinois has to pay for her 10,000 ten times more,
schools, her 20,000 teachers, and
FEMALE TEACHERS. 389
other classes. The great mass of American children,
however, are educated in the Common Schools.
The system in Upper Canada, though less known, is
in some points superior even to that of the States. It
is under the control of a central board at Toronto,
which adds vastly to the efficiency of the system, and
gives it harmony and completeness. Amongst other
important advantages, it secures (1) that all teachers
qualify themselves and graduate at the Normal School ;
and (2) that the same books (and these the best) be
used throughout the Province. Another advantage
claimed by Canada is that she has a larger proportion
of male teachers. This is an important point in High
Schools and Colleges ; but in the Common Schools,
where the pupils are mostly children, and the branches
mostly elementary, the superiority of male teachers is,
at least, doubtful. In the States, almost the whole system
of Common School education is carried out ly female
teachers, and yet nowhere perhaps in the world are
children educated so well. It was from no belief in the
superior qualifications of women for this work that the
present state of things came about. It arose simply
from the fact that women were ready to undertake the
work at lower salaries; and, having undertaken it,
proved so competent that they have been allowed to
retain almost a monopoly of it. Even in Canada the
proportion of female teachers is yearly increasing. The
same change probably awaits us here. If so, our girls
will have to be specially educated for the work as they
are in the Normal Schools in Canada and the States ;
but when so educated their superior qualifications for
managing, refining, and training the young are likely to
be recognised, and a new and vast field opened up for
the employment of educated women.
390 FREE SCHOOLS.
For the sake of those who might like to get a peep
into an American Free School, let me describe one of
those I visited in New York, — Ward School, No. 50,
for girls.
On entering we found the whole school engaged in
preliminary exercises "before separating to the different
class-rooms. The large, airy, and elegant room was filled
with quite a sea of young girls — five or six hundred of
them, of from five to twelve years of age. Many of them
were evidently the children of poor people ; but they were
neatly (many of them beautifully) dressed, and all scrupu
lously clean — a point to which great attention is paid in
American schools. Any scholar coming with untidy clothes,
or with unwashed face or hands, or unbrushed hair, would
be sent home at once. When a song had been sung to the
accompaniment of the piano, the Lady Principal took her
station at the desk on the platform, and touched a spring-
bell. The children were all attention.
" What are you to do when you see any object V9
" We are to think of its qualities, parts, uses, colours,
and form," answered the children.
The Principal then produced a common clay pipe, and
held it up. There was an instant brightening of eyes and
a titter; but the titter was over in a moment, and the
children ready.
" I bring some new object every morning," the Prin
cipal said, turning to us. " They never know what the
object is to be. So it brings out their general informa
tion, and teaches them to have their knowledge always at
command."
She now began to ask the school about the qualities of
the pipe, the names of its parts, and so forth, eliciting all
the girls knew about it.
When one bright little girl was asked what pipes were
used for, she replied, " For blowing soap-bubbles."
" I wish," said the Principal, with a smile, " that was
the only use to which people put them."
She then asked what they could tell her about tobacco.
SKETCH OF AN AMERICAN SCHOOL. 391
One girl was able to tell where it was grown, another
where it was manufactured, another what nations used it
most, and another got up to state that 12,000 dollars' worth
of cigars was used in New York every day. When a
further round of questions had been put as to the effect of
smoking, the Principal summed up all the information
elicited, laid the pipe aside, and touched the spring-bell.
Thereupon a march was struck up on the piano, and all
the five or six hundred girls rose and moved off with
military precision to their various recitation rooms.
I asked the Principal how she contrived to maintain
such perfect order.
" We appeal," she said, " to the self-respect of the girls
themselves, and the older show an example to the younger.
The school would think itself disgraced if any one were
impertinent or unruly."
" But there must be misconduct sometimes. What do
you resort to then 1 Do you use the rod V
" Never. The marks suffice in ninty-nine cases out of
every hundred. But if the child continues to misbehave
its parents are spoken to, and, as a last resort, it is sent
home. This is considered such a disgrace that the dread
of it tames the most ungovernable."
On looking at the Registers of the school, I found, from
the column giving the occupations of the scholars' parents,
that there were present the children of almost all classes
of people — importers, plumbers, seamstresses, merchants,
butchers, nurses, clerks, cartmen, physicians, servants,
bookbinders, stage-drivers, farmers, typesetters, labourers,
lawyers, masons, waiters, stationers, private watchmen, and
architects. I copied these at random. Here and there a
parent or guardian was entered as of no occupation — " Mrs.
Smith, nothing;" "Ezekiel Jones, nothing;" showing that
some of the fruges consumere nati are to be found even in
that busy, Babel-tongued, money-hunting city of New York.
There was also a Visitors' book. The practice of visit
ing schools is very common in America, and very beneficial.
People take their friends ; and frequently, when a profes
sional or business man finds half-an-hour thrown upon his
392 FREE SCHOOLS.
hands, he turns his steps to the nearest school, listens to
some of the examinations, and perhaps says a word of en
couragement before he goes. The interest which is thus con
tinually shown by the outside world in the success of the
schools not only stimulates the teachers but impresses the
scholars with the vital importance of their work, and gives
an additional incentive to regular and active preparation.
The Principal now conducted us through the various
departments or " grades." The rooms were lofty, well
lighted, and well ventilated. The scholars sat at their
neat little desks, two and two, in long columns running
back from the platform. The school equipment is much
more complete than with us. Every scholar has her own
little arm-chair and desk — the latter with a socket into
which to slip her slate, a groove for her pencil, and a little
cup for the sponge used in blotting out her figures. Neat
ness, cleanliness, and order, are parts of American education.
We waited in one room — "recitation rooms" they are
all called — to see the girls at their arithmetic. The excite
ment was extraordinary, and reminded me of annual ex
aminations at home. The teacher gave out a question, the
scholars taking it down on their slates. The instant she
ceased, every one dashed into the calculation with the
rapidity of an excited terrier chasing a ball. The first one
done started to her feet and cried "First!" Then in
quick succession came " Second ! " " Third ! " " Fourth ! "
"Fifth!" followed by a general uprising of the class.
Answers were read, and next moment the class was seated,
and another question being given.
In the next recitation room, where reading and spelling
was going on, I observed the extreme care taken to give
the scholars a clear and sharp articulation — an accomplish
ment in which, owing partly to this early training, the
Americans greatly excel. Every syllable had to be uttered
with as much distinctness as if it stood alone. " E's " had
to be trilled with more than even Scottish clearness, making
"tree" sound like " t'rree." In words like "when "and
" which," the girls were taught to take a mouthful of air,
as if they were going to whistle, causing them to aspirate
DISCIPLINE. 393
the words with a force that would have blown a Cockney
off his feet. The Principal said the exaggeration was in
tentional, and counteracted the common tendency to sloven
liness and the running of syllables together.
I noticed one dark- eyed little girl, with a keen face, and
hair brushed tightly back behind her ears, who wore a
silver decoration on her breast — the badge of honour,
indicating that she had stood first for the whole of the
previous month.
I could not help observing this little piece of precocity.
No error seemed to escape her. "When the Principal tried
them with a round of spelling, and it came to little Preco
city's turn, she first pronounced and spelt her own word,
and then said before sitting down, " And please, Miss W — ,
when you said to the second girl ' mourning,' she said
' morning,' and the fifth girl when spelling ' urgent,' said
' hew ' instead of ' u.' "
To prevent too much wear and tear of the little brains
each lesson only lasts for twenty minutes, after which comes
an interval of gymnastics and marching to music, which
gives mental rest and healthy physical exercise at the
same time.
This was a girls' school. But in boys' schools, and in
schools where boys and girls are taught together, the
order and discipline are the same. Even in the West,
I remember, in one vast free school with about 800
scholars, looking into a large class-room where more
than 100 boys and girls had been left alone for half-an-
hour to study. Perfect silence reigned. They were all
sitting intent over their books ; and the eyes that wrere
attracted by the sound of our footsteps were only off
the page for a moment. When the half-hour had ex
pired, the teacher went in to begin the next "recita
tion ; " but first asked if any of the scholars had been
"communicating," — i.e., talking, whispering, or even
making si^ns to one another. Five scholars at once
394 FREE SCHOOLS.
rose, said they had communicated, and gave their
reasons. In two cases a bad mark was given ; in the
other three, the explanations were satisfactory. This
was only a specimen of the order and discipline that
prevailed throughout the whole school. And yet the
teachers were all ladies, and the scholars were under
no fear of corporal punishment — such punishment
being prohibited by law, except in extreme cases
which have all to be reported.
From such schools the children are not only sent
forth instructed, but disciplined, — taught how to be
have themselves as little citizens of a Eepublic, in
which every boy is to be a gentleman, and every girl a
lady.
Whether it is best to train boys and girls in separate
schools or together, is a question on which there is
great diversity of opinion, and every district is left to
settle it for itself. Oberlin College, Ohio, has long
preached the doctrine that, from first to last, the sexes
should be trained together as in a family circle, where
the influence of brother and sister is mutually bene
ficial. This principle enters into its own constitution.
In its class-rooms, I saw hundreds of students of both
sexes sitting together listening to the same prelections,
and passing the same examinations. It was only in some
of the medical classes, where this arrangement would
have been improper, that the male and female students
were taught at different hours. The professional course
in classes and philosophy is not generally taken by the
ladies, but is open to all of them who wish. In each
class-room, the male students enter by one door, the
female students by another, and occupy different sides
of the room, facing the professor. They lodge in sepa
rate buildings — the ladies' hall being under the charge
CO-EDUCATION OF SEXES. 395
of a matron. Except in the class-rooms they only
meet at dinner, to which three or four hundred male
arid female students sit down together every day.
When 1 asked Principal Fairchild if these arrange
ments did not lead to love-making between the students,
he said, — " There is less of mere flirtation here than
amongst any equal number of young men and young
women brought up under different conditions. But the
male and female students come to know each other, and
if the friendships formed in college should lead to mar
riage afterwards, as is often the case, we see nothing in
that to be deplored. The marriage is likely to be all
the happier that the youth and the maid have become
so familiar with each other's tastes and abilities."
The effects of this co-education on the male students
is in many respects exceedingly good. The presence of
the other sex is a powerful stimulus, and even dullards
are quickened into activity by the fear of falling behind
the girls. It has a refining influence also on their man
ners. Obeiiin was the only college in which I saw no
spittoons, and nobody using tobacco.1
The effect of co-education on the female students is
not so easily determined. They undoubtedly gain by
it intellectually, and in some respects morally. How it
affects the delicate modesty and refinement which con
stitute so much of the charm of women, I cannot pre
tend to say ; but it may be to the point to repeat what
was told me by a friend who studied at Oberlin, and
married an Obeiiin girl : — " The idea," he said, " of
i For religion and morality also, leges, with a card,—" Apples, one
few places have a higher reputation. cent each. " On her return she found
Amongst the stories told illustra- only a handful of apples left, but a
tive of Oberlin honesty, is one of cent in the basket for every apple
a woman who left a basket of apples taken,
at the entrance to one of the col-
396 FREE SCHOOLS.
kissing a girl who had studied anatomy, and knew
quadratic equations, alarmed me at first, but after making
the experiment, I found the kiss the sweetest I had ever
got in my life."
The example of Oberlin in opening her College course
to both sexes, has been followed by the Iowa and
Michigan Universities, and seems likely to be followed
by others. In the Common and High Schools, the prac
tice of educating boys and girls together is widely pre
valent, and in small towns and rural districts almost
universal.
The religious difficulty which has kept us so long out
of a national system of education, has been practically
settled by the Americans. Their position is this, —
That public money appropriated for public education
cannot justly be expended on sectarian education. If
half the people are Eomanists and half are Protestants,
it is unjust to take Protestant money to build Komish
schools, and equally unjust to take Eomish money to
build Protestant schools. But if all parties are agreed
that it is desirable to have their children taught to read,
write, and cipher, here is a kind of education which,
being desired by the whole public, can justly be paid
for out of the public purse. On this position America
has reared her system of common schools, which is
putting the mass of her people so far in advance of ours
in. point of education. To say that religion shall not
be taught tHere, is not to say that religion is less im
portant than writing or ciphering, but simply that the
public are at one on the subject of writing and cipher
ing, while they are at variance on the subject of
religion.
But if the public are so much agreed even in regard
RELIGION IN COMMON SCHOOLS. 397
to creed, as to wish, that certain religious exercises
should be engaged in, then the introduction of such
exercises involves no injustice, as it drives away no
section of the public. In most of the schools, both in
Canada and the States, the opening exercises include a
portion of Scripture (read without comment), the Ten
Commandments, and the Lord's Prayer. To prevent any
class of the public from being excluded on this account
from schools which they are paying to support, it is
arranged that parents who object to their children being
present at these exercises, shall notify the same to the
Principal, who shall not require the presence of such
children until after these exercises are over. So far as
I could discover, scarcely any, except here and there
a few Eoman Catholics, were availing themselves of this
exemption. In all the common schools I visited, the
children of Catholics, Jews, Unitarians, and Infidels,
joined with the children of Baptists and Presbyterians
in offering up the Lord's Prayer and hearing the Scrip
tures read. In many schools and colleges it is further
provided, that a class-room be assigned after hours to
every denomination that desires it, in order that a
minister of each denomination may gather the pupils
connected with it into a class and instruct them in their
own creed. But it has been found in almost all such
cases, in spite of the outcry made about it beforehand,
that the churches are content to let this opportunity go
by, finding that they have ampler and far more satis -
factory opportunities of giving religious instruction in
the pulpit, the Sunday-school, and the family circle.
An agitation is now afoot in some cities to have
religious teaching altogether discontinued in schools
paid for out of public money. If this agitation should
prove successful, the effect will simply be, that public
398 FREE SCHOOLS.
schools will be confined to their proper work, while
churches and parents will be made to feel the responsi
bility of providing religious education — a duty which
America has already declared in principle belongs to
them, not to the State.
The term " secular education " may be a convenient
name for education that does not trench on religious
ground ; but to use the term in an opprobrious sense as
equivalent to infidel education, looks like the blunder
of an idiot or the sophistry of a partisan. Nobody
speaks of secular arithmetic, or secular gymnastics.
Nobody speaks of the Lighting and Paving Act as a
secular and infidel measure, because it provides for the
streets being cleaned without requiring the scavengers
to sign the Confession of Faith. Nobody speaks of a
riding- school as secular, because the pupils are taught
horsemanship without the Catechism. And yet the
term would be just as applicable to them as to common
schools established for the purpose of teaching children
to read, write, and cipher, and confining themselves
to this work, leaving religion to be taught properly by
those to whom the religious education of the people
properly belongs.
INDEX.
ABORTIONISTS, ii. 198, note.
Agassiz and Emerson, ii. 243, 278.
Alabama, The : Semmes, on, ii.
122, etc. ; question, ii. 126 ;
Beecher, on, i. 63, note.
American Peculiarities : "boasting,
Prelim, xvii. ; features, i. 15, 23 ;
active and restless, i. 16 ; trading,
i. 19 ; eating, i. 17, 24, 28 : ii. 136 ;
drinking, ii. 304 ; i'eet up, ii. 143 ;
informality, ii. 144 ; whittling, ii.
147 ; tobacco, ii. 148 ; carrying
arms, ii. 151 ; socials, i. 38 ;
boarding, i. 37 : ii. 135 ; number
ing of streets and places, ii. 329 ;
pronunciation and terms, ii. 333 ;
talkers, i. 26: ii. 377; experimental,
Prelim, xii. ; Republican phases,
i. 18, 35, 42: ii. 145; "cities,"
living in future, ii. 164, 165 ;
North and South, i. 303, 305 ;
boastfulness, Prelim, xvii. See
Woman ; Children ; Servants ;
Negro; South; West; Vast-
ness.
Arms, carrying, ii. 151 ; fighting
editors, i. 147.
Atheism, ii. 385, note.
BARNES, ALBERT, i. 89.
Beaufort : Mission Home, i. 228.
Beauty, American, i. 23 : ii. 132.
Beauregard : appearance, ii. 139 ;
on Lee and Jackson, ii. 139 ; on
M'Clellan, ii. 140 ; on the war,
ii. 140; on negro, ii. 16, 141;
railway guard, ii. 141.
Beecher : character, i. 47, etc. ;
helping a poor boy, i. 47 ; South
ern opinion of, i. 48 ; Southern
lady, i. 48 ; popularity, i. 50 ;
Plymouth Church, i. 50 ; slave-
woman, i. 51 ; appearance, i. 53 ;
church services, i. 53 ; manner, i.
56; on New York, i. 57, 59,
note; training, i. 58 ; odd say
ings, i. 59 ; his examination, i.
60 ; influence on American pulpits,
i. 61 ; talk, i. 64 ; negro suffrage,
ii. 69 ; temperance, ii. 308, note ;
on divorce, ii. 201, note; his
paper, ii. 374.
Bible : negro love of, ii. 112-116.
Births : small families, i, 29, note;
procuring abortion, ii. 198, note;
not advertised, ii. 286.
Boastful Americans : Prelim, xvii.
Boston : " The Hub," ii. 224, etc. ;
Unitarianism, ii. 225 ; Harvard,
ii. 236 ; Lowell, ii. 236 ; Emer
son, ii. 244, 270 ; Agassiz, ii.
243 ; Wendell Phillips, ii. 247 ;
Dickens, ii. 266 ; shop-boys, ii.
256 ; fire-alarm, ii. 258 ; polling-
place, ii. 261 ; prohibition, ii.
265, 314, 317.
Britain : popular notions about
Americans, Prelim, xi. : ii. 282 ;
influenced by America, Prelim.
xvi. ; Anti-British feeling, Pre
lim, xxi. ; the George Griswold,
i. 132.
Buggy-plough, ii. 180.
"Bummers:" who they were, i.
400
INDEX.
289 ; method, i. 290 ; keen scent
for plunder, i. 290 ; heartlessness,
i. 276, 293 ; no respect to ladies,
i. 294 ; exceeding orders, i. 295 ;
Sherman's policy, i. 296.
Bums, Dr., mistaken for bear, ii.
344, note.
Buslmell, Horace, ii. 324; sup
ported Beecher, i. 60 ; Barnes,
on, i. 190.
Business : large sales, i. 16, 304 : ii.
189, etc. ; children trading, i.
19; restlessness, i. 20, 250;
warning to those going out
West, ii. 177 ; shop-boys, ii. 257.
See Chicago.
Butler, Benjamin, i. 159; lecture,
i. 160 ; newspaper abuse, i. 161 :
ii. 370 ; charges against him, i.
156 ; character, i. 161 ; repartee,
i. 162 ; self-possession, i. 163 ;
treatment of ladies, i. 164 ; abi
lity, i. 165.
CANADA : different nationalities, i.
2 ; probable destiny, i. 6 ; Catho
lics, i. 8 ; Beecher on, i. 64 ;
Liquor Law, ii. 312 ; fire telegraph,
ii. 260 ; winter, ii. 339 ; house-
heating, ii. 343 ; toboggans, ii.
341 ; skating-rink, ii. 342 ; school
system, ii. 389.
Carolina, North : resources, i. 246 ;
" Tar-heels," i. 246 ; turpentine,
i. 247 ; scuppernong, i. 247 ; want
of harbours, i. 247 ; negroes in
Convention, i. 248 ; General D.
H. Hill, i. 249 ; Vance, i. 250 ;
Maffitt, i. 256; General Ean-
som, i. 260 ; Highlanders, i.
265.
Carolina, South : burning of Co
lumbia, i. 298, 299 ; General E.
P. Alexander, i. 298 ; Cardozo, i.
301 ; Charleston, i. 303 ; Fort
Sumter, ii. 139 ; property acquired
by freedmen in, ii. 56 ; no di
vorces, ii. 201 ; newspapers, ii. 369.
Charities : Philadelphia, i. 88 ;
Charleston, i. 303 ; Chicago, ii.
203. See Sanitary and Christian
Commissions.
Cheever, ii. 378, note.
Chicago : fast, i. 16, 17 ; bad streets,
ii. 172 ; history, ii. 189 ; popula
tion, ii. 189; business, ii. 189,
note; lumber and grain, ii. 190 ;
house-moving, ii. 190, 193 ; ele
vators, ii. 194 ; pig-killing, ii.
195; abortions, ii. 198, note;
divorces, ii. 199 ; Young Men's
Christian Association, ii. 203 ;
Mr. Moody, ii. 204.
Children : French school, i. 9 ;
food, i. 28 ; trading, i. 19 ; pre
cocity, i. 29 ; politicians in petti
coats, i. 30 ; want of reverence,
i. 31; "Suppose you pray," i.
34 ; reason of independence, i.
35 ; what children did for the
soldiers, i. 79, 128 ; odd prayer,
ii. 153, note ; Southern child's
offering, i. 316 ; in Highland set
tlement, i. 277 ; names, ii. 75,
332, note. See Negro; Schools;
Births.
Choate, Rufus : eloquence, ii. 227,
228 ; compared with Webster, ii.
229.
Christian Commission : object, i. 73 ;
G. H. Stuart, i. 74, 86; contri
butions, i. 78 ; children's help, i.
79; delegates, i. 80; dying sol
dier, i. 82.
Churches, ii. 375 : Voluntaryism,
ii. 385 ; denominations, ii. 384 ;
progress of Christianity, ii. 384 ;
" Church " and " world," ii. 375,
306 ; status of clergy, ii. 376 ;
pay of clergy, ii. 376 ; preaching,
ii. 377 ; church music, ii. 378 ;
comfort of churches and lecture-
INDEX.
401
halls, ii. 379; soldiers, i. 80;
Highland settlement, i. 287 ;
Chicago, ii. 202 ; Beecher's, i. 50 ;
Bushnell's, ii. 328; Todd's, ii.
353; negro services, ii. 96-111.
See Religion; Clergy; Sunday-
schools; Sects.
Clergy : female, i. 22 ; see Beecher;
Christian Commission delegates,
i. 80 ; Albert Barnes, i. 89 ; in
Highland settlement, i. 286 ; de
fending slavery, ii. 24, 27 ; negro
ministers' spelling-class, ii. Ill ;
position in America, ii. 376 ; " sa
laries," ii. 376. See Churches;
Religion.
Climate : stimulating, i. 17 ; New
Orleans' heat, ii. 137 ; Canadian
winters, ii. 339 ; three springs in
one year, ii. 166, note.
Commissions, United States : see
Christian; Sanitary.
Confederates : navy, cavalry, and
i artillery, i. 259, 298; " Co(r)n-
fed,"i. 191. See South; War.
Connecticut : divorces, ii. 201 ; Blue
Laws, ii. 352.
Copyright, international, ii. 233 ;
price of reprints, ii. 269.
Courage': Jackson, i. 208 ; Maffitt,
i. 256 ; negro, ii. 85.
Customs : see American Peculia
rities.
DAVIS, JEFFERSON : coming to know
Jackson, i. 203 ; Ransom's re
miniscence, i. 263 ; persistence de
fended,!. 314; his successor, i. 322.
Davis, A. Jackson, the Spiritualist,
ii. 382.
Deaths : Lincoln, i. 100 ; " Stone
wall" Jackson, i. 198; obituary
notices, ii. 287. See Funerals.
Dickens : tickets for readings, ii.
266, 269 ; popularity, ii. 269 ;
refusing Chicago, ii. 268.
VOL. II.
Dickinson, Anna : history, ii. 208 ;
appearance, ii. 210 ; lecture, ii.
211 ; lecture-fees, ii. 214.
Divorce, ii. 201. See Marriage.
Drinking habits : not at table, ii.
304; "bees," ii. 305; bars, ii.
305, 306 ; "bitters," ii. 306 ; con
sumption of spirits, ii. 309 ; num
ber of places licensed, ii. 309 ;
money spent on liquor, ii. 310 ;
drunkenness in America compared
with Britain, ii. 310, 311. See
Liquor Laws ; Temperance.
Duelling, i. 311 : ii. 230, note.
EDUCATION: in South, i. 307; prac
tical, and looks to returns, ii. 174,
175 ; in speaking, ii. 377 ; higher
scholarship rare, ii. 174 ; propor
tion of students graduating, ii.
175 ; negro anxiety for, ii. 61, etc. ;
manual system at Hampton, i.
241 ; course at Hampton, i. 242,
note ; free-school system, ii. 387 ;
Spiritualist Sunday-school, ii. 381 ;
co-education of sexes, ii. 175, note,
394. See Schools; Universities.
Emancipation : war not begun for,
i. 123; circumstances unfavour
able, ii. 48 ; Southern views of, i.
137 : ii. 16, 24, 26 ; " Negro do
mination," ii. 13, etc. ; Will the
negro die out? ii. 16; effect on
blacks, ii. 48, etc. ; working better,
ii. 53 ; cotton raised, ii. 53, 69 ;
savings' banks, ii. 55 ; education,
ii. 57-68 ; whites emancipated,
i. 151 ; ii. 1-12 ; white energies
liberated, ii. 9 ; West Indies, ii.
30, note. See Slavery; Negro;
Schools.
Emerson, ii. 244 ; lecture, ii. 271 ;
style, ii. 274 ; talk, ii. 275 ; his-
tory, ii. 277; theology, ii. 277,
note; on Southern manners, i. 306,
note.
• 2 C
402
INDEX.
Emigration : Virginia a good field,
i. 153 ; wanted on Lower Missis
sippi, ii. 141 ; the kind wanted
out West, ii. 178.
Experiments : political and social,
Prelim, xii., xiii. (elective judge-
ships) ; xv. (Government offices) ;
negro education, i. 241 ; negro
suffrage, ii. 69 ; Liquor Laws,
ii. 312 ; Shakers, ii. 355. See
Churches; Schools; Emancipa
tion.
FARMING : in Virginia, i. 153 ; Agri
cultural College, i. 242 ; in South
new system needed, ii. 11 ; out
West, ii. 178 ; in Iowa, ii. 179 ;
genteel ploughing, ii. 180 ; New
England, ii. 279 ; Shakers, ii. 360.
Fayetteville, N.C., i. 283.
Fire-telegraph, ii. 258.
First impressions, i. 15, etc. See
American Peculiarities.
Freedmen : see Emancipation.
Funerals: Jackson's, i. 215, note;
negro, ii. 101 ; customs, ii. 288.
GAELIC : in Canada, i. 3 ; in North
Carolina, i. 284 ; " When Greek
meets Greek," i. 285.
Gaudry, Sister, i. 8.
Germans : thrift, i. 71 ; in St. Louis,
ii. 173 ; Todd on, ii. 353.
Gough, John B., ii. 295 ; popu
larity, ii. 275, 297; lectures, ii.
297 ; home-life, ii. 298 ; character,
ii. 301 ; silver wedding, ii. 303.
Government offices : Prelim, xv.
Grant : silent, i. 85, 115 ; refusing
to " orate," n. 85; appearance,
i. 113 ; conversation, i. 114 ; in
corruptible, i. 116 ; observant, i.
117; "unconditional surrender,"
i. 118 ; war-policy, i. 120 ; gener
ous in victory, i. 120, 121 ; on
negro, i. 121 ; Beauregard, ii. 140.
HARTFORD : Mrs. Stowe, ii. 320 ;
Bushnell, ii. 324.
Harvard, ii. 236.
Highlanders : see Scotch.
Hill, Gen. A. P., i. 173, 210.
Hill, Gen. D. H., i. 249, 250.
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, ii. 242,
246 ; lecture, ii. 244.
Hotels, ii. 134 ; boarders, ii. 135 ;
prices, ii. 136 ; bill of fare, ii.
136. See Drinking Ha'rits.
Howard, General 0. 0., i. 92; on
negro mortality, ii. 17.
INCIDENTS : Beecher, i. 47, ii. 308,
note ; Christian Commission, i.
82 ; Sanitary Commission, i. 127 ;
Lincoln, i. 103 ; Grant, i. 118 ;
editors, i. 149; Butler, i. 162;
Petersburg ladies, i. 167; Lee,
i. 174 ; saving a soldier's life, i.
177 ; Jackson, i. 203 ; buying
herself thrice, i. 232 ; fighting the
town- sergeant, i. 236 ; Vance
jumping into office, i. 251 ; war
jokes, i. 190, 253 ; quizzing cav
alry, i. 261 ; " Them's my shoes,"
i. 263, note ; Flora Macdonald, i.
267, note; miraculous escape, i.
271 ; Little Betty, i. 277 ; Gaelic
speech, i. 285 ; Bummers, i. 289 ;
negroes learning to read, ii. 57,
64, 113 (spelling "Jesus") ; negro
thoughtlessness, ii. 75, 82 ; fide
lity, ii. 83 ; negro soldiers, ii. 84-
88 ; visions, ii. 92 ; whittling, ii.
148 ; Indians, ii. 185 ; a queer
photograph, ii. 186 ; Choate, ii.
228; Wendell Phillips, i. 255;
marriages, ii. 290 ; clergyman's
fees, ii. 293 ; Gough, ii. 301 ; Gen
eral Gregory, ii. 308, note ; elder's
beard frozen, ii. 344 ; telegraph
ing the Bible, ii. 373, note.
Indians : Canada, i. 3 ; Iowa, ii.
182; an Indian's complaint, ii.
INDEX.
403
182, note; drink, ii. 184; sensi
tive, ii. 185 ; queer photograph,
ii. 186 ; treatment of, ii. 187 ;
Longfellow on, ii. 234.
Iowa : name, ii. 181 ; size, ii. 179 ;
land, ii. 179 ; buggy-plough, ii.
180 ; prairie on fire, ii. 181 ; In
dians, ii. 182 ; University, ii. 175.
Irish : politicians, i. 67 ; helps, i.
45 ; hate negroes, i. 46 ; com
pared with negroes, ii. 55 ; with
Germans, i. 71 ; shop-boys, ii.
257 ; progeny, ii. 286 ; Scotch-
Irish, i. 222 ; anti-British feeling,
Prelim, xxii.
JACKSON, "STONEWALL," i. 194;
descent on Hooker's flank, i. 197 ;
death, i. 198 ; appearance, i. 202 ;
Jefferson Davis, i. 203; popularity,
i. 204 ; habits, i. 205 ; endurance,
i. 206 ; resource, i. 206 ; mystery,
i. 207 ; policy, i. 207 ; courage,
i. 208 ; discipline, i. 209 ; sense
of duty, i. 209, 215 ; compared
with Lee, i. 210 ; ii. 139 ; piety,
i. 211 ; his grave, i. 217.
Jesus : spelling the name, ii. 113.
Johnson, Andrew, i. 110-112 ; old
employer, ii. 146.
Judgeships, elective, Prelim, xiii.
LABOUR: Wages in New York, i.
71 ; degraded in South, i. 311 ;
kind wanted in West, ii. 178 ;
New England, ii. 279, 281.
Land : Beecher on property in, i.
64; Virginia, i. 153 ; Mississippi,
ii. 141 ; Missouri, ii. 178 ; Iowa,
ii. 179 ; proportion cultivated in
South, ii. 11 ; bought by and for
freedmen, ii. 56 ; farmers wanted,
ii. 178.
Lee, Ann, the Shaker, ii. 362.
Lee, Robert E. : College at Lexing
ton, i. 218; his duties, i. 220;
table-talk, i. 222 ; piety, i. 176,
223 ; history, i. 223 ; devotion to
his State, i. 224; Arlington, i.
225 ; gradual emancipationist, i.
139 ; abstainer, i. 224 : ii. 308 ;
Southern lady on, i. 173 ; in bat
tle, i. 175 ; character, i. 174 ; on
Sunday-school, i. 176 ; surrender,
i. 192 ; "Stonewall" Jackson, i.
210 ; Beauregard on, ii. 139.
Lee, W. H. F., i. 139.
Lexington : in the valley, i. 215 ;
journey to, ii. 169 ; Lee and his
College, i. 218 ; Jackson's grave,
i. 217.
Lie Bill, i. 284, note.
Lincoln, Abraham, i. 100.
Liquor Laws, ii. 312 ; in Boston, ii.
265 ; in Portland, ii. 318 ; Wen
dell Phillips on, ii. 265 ; Emer
son, ii. 276 ; Bushnell, ii. 327 ;
Dunkin's Permissive Law, ii. 312;
traffic restricted, ii. 315 ; evasions,
ii. 315 ; comparison of prohibition
with license, ii. 316. See Drink
ing Habits ; Temperance.
Longfellow : meeting, ii. 231 ; on
copyright laws, ii. 233 ; on "Evan-
geline," ii. 235 ; verses to Lowell,
ii. 241, note ; dinner to, ii. 246 ;
"Old Clock" at Pittsfield, ii.
349, note.
Lowell : lecture, ii. 236 ; progeni
tors, ii. 239 ; Biglow papers, ii.
240 ; Longfellow's verses on
Lowell's wife's death, ii. 241,
note.
MACDONALD, FLORA, i. 266.
Macrae, General William, i. 269.
Maffitt, i. 258 ; career, i. 256 ; coin
cidence, i. 257 ; on Confederate
navy, i. 259.
Maine : Liquor Law and its effect,
ii. 316 ; prohibition in Portland,
ii. 318.
404
INDEX.
Manners : odd customs, ii. 143 ;
republican, ii. 282; polite to
ladies, ii. 283 ; Oberlin, ii. 395.
See American Peculiarities.
Marriage : customs, ii. 290 ; fees, ii.
293 ; co-education of sexes, ii. 395.
Maryland : traversing, i. 91 ; liquor
traffic compared with Prohibition
States, ii. 316.
Massachusetts : — See New England ;
Boston: liquor traffic under
license and prohibition, ii. 313,
316, 317.
Mill-girls, ii. 279.
Missionary Association, American,
i. 226, 240, 242 ; first school for
fugitive slaves, i. 227 ; teachers,
i. 227, 237 ; schools, i. 227, 240 ;
colleges, i. 227, 241 ; Mission
Home at Beaufort, i. 226.
Mississippi Kiver : steamboat tra
velling, ii. 154 ; racing, ii. 162 ;
fuel, ii. 163 ; monotonous scenery,
ii. 158; snags, ii. 161 ; cities, ii.
164, 165 ; river distances, ii. 166.
Missouri : iron mountains, ii. 173 ;
feverish life, ii. 177 ; length of
river, ii. 167.
Mobile : Semmes, ii. 118 ; bay, ii.
130 ; street-cars, ii. 134.
Montreal : Sister Gaudry's school,
i. 8 ; Catholics, i. 8 ; fire-tele
graph, ii. 259 ; drunkenness, ii.
310, note; skating-rink, ii. 342 ;
winter fuel, ii. 343.
Morals : virtue in South, i. 308 ;
divorces, ii. 201 ; abortion, ii.
198, note; negro, ii. 43, 45;
Shakers, ii. 359 ; Oberlin honesty,
ii. 395, note. _Sze South ; Negro;
Indian,
Mormons : Beecher on, i. 65.
NAMES : Highland, i. 2 ; negro, ii.
75 ; " city," ii. 164 ; numeral, ii.
329,330, note; "villes," ii. 330 ;
repeated, ii. 331, 332; Indian, ii.
331 and note; "Iowa," ii. 181 ;
Old World, ii. 332 ; fancy, ii. 332,
note; of battles, ii. 141, note. See
Terms.
Negro : " Not a man but a beast,"
ii. 21 ; character, strength and
weakness, i. 243 : ii. 78 ; morals,
ii. 42 ; unreflective, ii. 75 ; dis
position, ii. 79 ; fidelity, i. 171 ;
ii. 83 ; courage, ii. 85 ; faith, ii.
95 ; Mrs. Stowe on, ii. 322 ;
eagerness to learn, ii. 63, 111 ;
desire for Bible, ii. 112 ; religious
peculiarities, i. 244: ii. 90-117;
visions, ii. 91 ; church services,
ii. 97 ; hymns, ii. 99 ; prayers,
ii. 95, 105 ; sermons, ii. 108 ;
schools in Washington, i. 93 ;
American Missionary Associa
tion's, i. 227, 240 ; number of
scholars, i. 227 : ii. 61 ; for sol
diers, ii. 59 ; black men and women
at school, i. 229 : ii. 62 ; ministers'
spelling-class, ii. Ill : colleges,
i. 241 ; Agricultural College at
Hampton, i. 241, 242 ; negro suf
frage, ii. 69 ; Grant on, i. 122.
See Slavery ; Emancipation.
New England: soil, ii. 279 ; women,
i. 24-26 ; mill-girls, ii. 279 ; chil
dren, i. 29, 31, 34 ; farmers, ii.
281 ; brain, ii. 284.
Newspapers : number and progress,
ii. 369, and note; position, ii.
372; indispensable, ii. 369; ex
changes, ii. 371 ; New York, ii.
372 ; enterprise, ii. 373 ; person
alities, i. 161 : ii. 370.
New Orleans : from Mobile, ii. 130 ;
the people, ii. 132 ; Sunday, ii.
132 ; position, ii. 133 ; lower than
river, ii. 133 ; street-cars, ii. 134 ;
hotels, ii. 134 ; heat, ii. 137 ;
carrying arms, ii. 152 ; General
Butler, i. 165.
INDEX.
405
New York : size, i. 66 ; good and
bad, i. 66 ; foreign elements, i.
64, 67, 69 ; Germans and Irish, i.
71 ; Scotch, i. 67 ; misgovernment,
i. 57, 59, 62, 64, 67 ; whisky-tax,
i. 68 ; official dishonesty, i. 62,
68 ; bad streets, i. 68 : ii. 172 ;
prices and wages, i. 69 ; rents, i.
70 ; Savings' Banks, i. 71 ; New
Year's Day, ii. 171 ; dry goods'
sales, ii. 189, note; abortionists,
ii. 198, note ; newspapers, ii. 370,
372 ; ministers, ii. 378, note.
OBERLIN COLLEGE : ii. 175, 394.
Odd Customs, ii. 143.
Orators. See Choate ; Webster ;
Beecher; Phillips; Vance; Gough.
Ormiston, Dr., of Canada, ii. 198,
note.
Oysters : American, i. 228.
PALMER, DR.: defence of slavery,
ii. 27.
Parker, Theodore, ii. 226.
Peculiarities : see American.
Petersburg, Va. : war memories, i.
166; General Lee, i. 173 ; saving
a soldier's life, i. 177 ; ride with
Confederate officer, i. 185 ; sol
diers' cemeteries, i. 186 ; Crater
fight, i. 187 ; evacuation, i. 191.
Philadelphia, i. 87 ; Geo. H. Stuart,
i. 73 ; Albert Barnes, i. 89 ; street-
naming, ii. 329.
Phillips, Wendell, ii. 247 ; oratory,
ii. 248 ; on negro, ii. 249 ; on
prohibition, ii. 265 ; career, ii.
251 ; kindness, ii. 255.
Pittsfield, Mass. : Todd, ii. 349 ;
"Old Clock on the Stairs," ii.
349, note.
Political : judges elective, Prelim.
xiii. ; Government offices, Prelim.
xv.; corruption in New York, i.
67; Canada and States, i. 6;
stimulus of Republicanism, i. 18;
owning land, i. 64 ; polling-place,
ii. 261 ; nation versus State, i.
123, 136, 224, 268. See Suffrage.
Prentice of Louisville Journal, ii.
370, note.
QUAKERS : i. 88, ii. 355, 362, note.
RAILWAYS, ii. 215 ; sleeping cars, ii.
216; train-boy, ii. 217; no classes,
ii. 219 ; tickets, ii. 221 ; baggage-
checks, ii. 222 ; street-railways,
ii. 134, 189 ; town-makers, ii.
179 ; opening of Pacific Railroad,
ii. 354. See Travelling.
Ransom, General : on Confederate
cavalry, i. 260.
Religion : active, ii. 375 ; support
of, ii. 376, 385 ; in schools, ii .
396. See Romanism ; Shakers ;
Churches ; Sects ; Clergy ; Chris
tian and Sanitary Commissions.
Republicanism : ambition stimul
ated, i. 18 ; principles not per
sons, i. 35 ; service, i. 42 ; the
man not the tailor, ii. 145 ; judges
elective, Prelim, xiii. ; manners,
ii. 282, 301. See Political ; Ex
periments.
Richmond : entering, i. 134 ; W.
H. F. Lee, i. 139; ruins, i. 141 ;
churches, i. 142 ; evacuation, i.
142 ; " mongrel " convention, i.
145 ; fighting editor, i. 147 ; to
bacco factory, i. 150.
Roman Catholicism : in Lower
Canada, i. 8 ; schools, i. 4, 9 ;
among the freedmen, ii. 117 ;
in New Orleans, ii. 134 ; Shaker
doctrines, ii. 363; strength in
States, ii. 385, note.
SANITARY COMMISSION, i. 123 ; help
to the soldiers, i. 125 ; from
police, i. 126; from women, i.
406
INDEX.
126 ; orgin, i. 126; aim, i. 126 ;
contributions, i. 125-128 ; won
derful sack, i. 129 ; fairs, i. 130.
Savings' Banks : New York, i. 71 ;
German thrift, i. 71 ; freedmen's,
ii. 55, 56, 66.
Schools : French, in Montreal, i. 4 ;
Sister Gaudry's,i. 8; negro schools,
i. 93 (at Washington), 227, 240
(American Missionary Associa
tion's), 302 (in Charleston) : ii.
57-68 (through South); negro min
isters' spelling-class, ii. Ill; South
against free-schools, i. 307 ; in
St. Louis, ii. 174 ; in Chicago, ii.
207; free-school system, ii. 387;
expense, ii. 388 ; sketch of free-
school, ii. 390 ; discipline, ii. 393 ;
co-education of sexes, ii. 394 ; re
ligious difficulty, ii. 396. See
Education ; Negro; Universities;
Sunday-schools.
Scotch : Highland settlement in
Canada, i. 2 ; in Carolina, i . 265,
272; Flora Macdonald, i. 267,
note; Highlanders in war, i. 268;
Scotch fair, i. 282; Scotch in
New York, i. 67 ; St. Louis, ii.
173; General Lee on, i. 222;
whisky-drinking, ii. 305 ; rene
gade, Prelim, xx. ; patriotism, i.
5 : ii. 339 ; St. Andrew's dinner,
ii. 340 ; church music, ii. 352 ;
wanted, i. 155 : ii. 141.
Sects: Unitarians, ii. 225; Catho
lics, i. 8 : ii. 117, 385 ; Quakers,
i. 88 ; Shakers, ii. 355 ; relative
strength of evangelical denomina
tions, ii. 384. See Churches.
Semmes, Admiral, ii. 118 ; appear
ance, ii. 121 ; on Alabama, ii.
122, 124.
Servants : discomfort with, i. 36 ;
consequences, i. 37, 38 ; boot-
brushing, i. 40 ; self-help, i. 41 ;
reasons, i. 42 ; servants at table,
i. 43; educated, i. 44; Irish, i.
45, dress, i. 46 ; negro, i. 45.
Sherman : " Bummers," i. 289 ;
policy, i. 296 ; burning Columbia,
i. 299.
Shakers : Beecher on, i. 65 ; burials,
ii. 289 ; dress, ii. 355, 358 ; co
operation, ii. 355 ; novitiates, ii.
356, note; family life, ii. 356;
celibacy, ii. 356 ; a Shaker's de
fence of, ii. 365; Shaker and
Catholic doctrines, ii. 363, note ;
workshops, ii. 364 ; worship, ii.
367 ; honesty, ii. 367 ; numbers,
ii. 368 ; the Shaker schoolmaster,
ii. 364, 467, note.
Slavery : how it moulded the South,
i. 311 ; repressed white energy,
ii. 1 ; threw odium on South, ii.
7 ; slovenly, i. 91 : ii. 11 ; mix
ture of races, ii. 20 ; position it
forced the South into, ii. 21 ;
Beecher's sermon, i. 55 ; fighting
parson's defence of, ii. 25 ; divine,
ii. 27 ; good and bad effects, ii.
32 ; education it secured, ii. 33 ;
schools prohibited, ii. 5, 41 ; ex
ample of whites, ii. 35 ; sanitary,
ii. 36 ; made work a disgrace, ii.
37, 52 ; removed responsibility,
ii. 38; gagged Church, ii. 39;
morals, ii. 43 ; families separated,
ii. 44 ; concubinage, ii. 45. See
Emancipation; Negro.
South: peculiarities, i. 303, 305;
devotion to State, i. 136, 224,
268 ; Conservatism, i. 308 ; sense
of honour, i. 310 ; duelling, i.
311 ; bitterness of feeling, ii.
153, note; Will the negro do
minate ? ii. 13 ; views of negro,
ii. 21 ; wreck made by war, i.
314 ; irreparable loss in class of
men, i. 319 ; first last and last
first, i. 321 ; Richmond, i. 141,
142 : Petersburg, i. 166, etc. ;
INDEX.
407
Columbia, i. 298. See War;
Bummers ; Emancipation,
Spiritualism : alleged strength, ii.
385 ; Sunday-school, ii. 381.
Steamers, River : Cape Fear, i.
272 ; Mississippi, ii. 154 ; fuel, ii.
163 ; Hudson River, ii. 157. See
Travelling.
Stowe, Mrs : her home at Hartford,
ii. 320 ; appearance and conversa
tion, ii. 321 ; on Southern and
English aristocrats, ii. 322 ;
Southern opinion, i. 49 : ii. 324.
Stuart, Geo. H., i. 74, 86 ; general
ship in prayer, i. 83. See
Christian Commission.
Stuart, J. E. B., i. 264.
Suffrage : Bushnell on universal,
ii. 327 ; Beecher on negro, ii. 69 ;
Wendell Phillips, ii. 250 ; Grant,
i. 122 ; Anna Dickinson on female,
ii. 211 ; Bushnell, ii. 327.
Sumner, Charles, ii. 229; Mrs.
Stowe on, ii. 322.
Sunday observance, ii. 383 ; Ger
mans, ii. 173, 353 ; New England,
ii. 352 ; sunset to sunset, ii. 353.
Sunday-schools : number of scholars,
ii. 383 ; in Chicago, ii. 202 ; adults
attend, ii. 353 ; importance at
tached to, ii. 382 : peculiarities,
ii. 381 ; Spiritualist, ii. 381 ;
General Lee's letter, i. 176.
TELEGRAPH : outstripping the sun,
ii. 369 ; New York Herald and
the Book of Genesis, ii. 373.
Temperance men in America, ii.
307 ; notable, i. 264 : ii. 308, 309 ;
Shakers, ii. 359; Beecher's
church, ii. 308, note ; General
Gregory and the liquor order, ii.
308, note. See Gough.
Temperance movement : new form,
ii. 309, note. See Drinking Habits;
Liquor Laws.
Terms, American, ii. 333, etc. ; uses
of " fix," ii. 337. See Names.
Tobacco factory, i. 150 ; chewing
and spitting, ii. 148 ; " dipping,"
ii. 151.
Todd, Dr. John, author of Students'
Manual, ii. 347 ; hearing him at
Boston, ii. 348 ; at home, ii. 349 ;
on Canada, ii. 351 ; " Hafed's
Dream," ii. 351 ; on Scotch sing
ing, ii. 352 ; on Blue Laws, ii.
352 ; on Sabbath observance, ii.
352 ; his career, ii. 354.
Travelling: bad roads, ii. 168; stages,
ii. 169 ; corduroy roads, ii. 170 ;
prairie, ii. 170 ; railways, ii. 215 ;
street-cars, ii. 133, 134 ; Highland
settlement, i. 273, 281 ; sleighs,
ii. 341 ; hotels, ii. 134. See Rail
ways; Steamers.
UNITARIANISM, ii. 225. See
Churches.
Universities and colleges : Washing
ton College (Lexington), i. 218;
negro, i. 241 ; Iowa, ii. 175; Har
vard, ii. 236, and note; Oberlin,
ii. 394.
VANCE, ZEBULON B., stumping the
State, i. 250.
Vastness of America, i. 1 : ii. 351 ;
river distances, ii. 166 ; on brain,
Prelim, xix.
Vicksburg : Grant's determination,
i. 119.
Virginia : field for immigration, i.
153 ; productiveness, i. 153 ; pride
in, i. 136, 224.
Voluntary churches, ii. 384, 385.
WAR, THE : Northern purpose, i.
123 ; Southern views, i. 136 : ii.
27 ; ameliorations — see Christian
and Sanitary Commissions; me
mories of, at Washington, i. 105 ;
408
INDEX.
at Richmond, i. 142 ; Petersburg,
i. 166 ; soldiers' cemetery, i. 186 ;
jokes in face of death, i. 191, i
253 ; see Grant ; Jackson ; Lee ; j
Maffitt, i. 256 ; Confederate navy, j
cavalry, and artillery, i. 259, 298;
Highlanders,!. 271; "Bummers,"
i. 289 ; Columbia, i. 299 ; devas- i
tations in South, i. 314. See
South; Emancipation ; Incidents.
Washington, D. C., i. 92; negro ;
school in, i. 93 ; Lincoln, i. 100 ; i
war days, i. 105.
Webster : oratory, ii. 227, 229.
West, The : Keokuk, ii. 176 ; cities j
too fast for country, ii. 177 ; New j
Philadelphia, ii. 177 ; farmers J
not clerks wanted, ii. 178 ; prairie :
on tire, ii. 180 ; sport in Iowa, ii. j
181. See Indians.
Whittling, i. 252 : ii. 147.
Winter, American, ii. 339; "tobog
gans," ii. 341 ; skating-rinks, ii.
342 ; stoves, ii. 343 ; the frozen
elder, ii. 344 ; fishing, ii. 345.
Wit, American, Prelim, xix.
Women : professional, i. 22 ; " Ba
chelors " of Arts, ii. 175, note;
students, i. 242 : ii. 395 ; teachers,
ii. 389; type of beauty, i. 23;
Anna Dickinson, ii. 208; Mrs.
Stowe, ii. 320 ; virtue, i. 309 ;
American politeness to, ii. 283.
See Negro ; Education; Suffrage.
YALE and Harvard, ii. 236.
YANKEE : the name, ii. 182.
American Peculiarities.
See
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