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diff --git a/18304-h/18304-h.htm b/18304-h/18304-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4126f54 --- /dev/null +++ b/18304-h/18304-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,22737 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of American Adventures, by Julian Street. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .signature {text-align: right;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of American Adventures, by Julian Street + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: American Adventures + A Second Trip 'Abroad at home' + +Author: Julian Street + +Illustrator: Wallace Morgan + +Release Date: May 3, 2006 [EBook #18304] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICAN ADVENTURES *** + + + + +Produced by Susan Skinner and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 464px;"> +<a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/front.jpg" width="464" height="600" alt="Charleston is the last stronghold of a unified American upper class; the last remaining +American city in which Madeira and Port and noblesse oblige are fully +and widely understood, and are employed according to the best traditions" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Charleston is the last stronghold of a unified American upper class; the last remaining +American city in which Madeira and Port and <i>noblesse oblige</i> are fully +and widely understood, and are employed according to the best traditions</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>AMERICAN ADVENTURES</h1> + +<p class='center' style='font-size: x-large;'><span style="font-size: 75%;">A SECOND TRIP "ABROAD AT HOME" BY</span><br /> +JULIAN STREET</p> + + +<p class='center' style='font-size: x-large;'><span style="font-size: 75%;">WITH PICTORIAL SIDELIGHTS<br /> +BY<br /></span> +WALLACE MORGAN</p> + + + +<p class='center'>NEW YORK<br /> +THE CENTURY CO.<br /> +1917</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class='center'>Copyright, 1917, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span><br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 5%;" /> +<p class='center'>Copyright, 1916, 1917, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">P. F. Collier & Son, Inc.</span></p> +<hr style="width: 5%;" /> +<p class='center'><i>Published, November, 1917</i></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p class="center">TO MY AUNT +AND SECOND MOTHER</p> + +<p class="center">JULIA ROSS LOW</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2><a name="FOREWORD" id="FOREWORD"></a>FOREWORD</h2> + + +<p>Though much has been written of the South, it +seems to me that this part of our country is less understood +than any other part. Certainly the South, itself, +feels that this is true. Its relationship to the North +makes me think of nothing so much as that of a pretty, +sensitive wife, to a big, strong, amiable, if somewhat +thick-skinned husband. These two had one great +quarrel which nearly resulted in divorce. He thought +her headstrong; she thought him overbearing. The +quarrel made her ill; she has been for some time recovering. +But though they have settled their difficulties and +are living again in amity together, and though he, man-like, +has half forgotten that they ever quarreled at all, +now that peace reigns in the house again, <i>she</i> has <i>not</i> +forgotten. There still lingers in her mind the feeling +that he never really understood her, that he never understood +her problems and her struggles, and that he +never will. And it seems to me further that, as is +usually the case with wives who consider themselves misunderstood, +the fault is partly, but by no means altogether, +hers. He, upon one hand, is inclined to pass the +matter off with a: "There, there! It's all over now. +Just be good and forget it!" while she, in the depths of +her heart, retains a little bit of wistfulness, a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> +wounded feeling, which causes her to say to herself: +"Thank God our home was not broken up, but—I wish +that he could be a little more considerate, sometimes, in +view of all that I have suffered."</p> + +<p>For my part, I am the humble but devoted friend of +the family. Having known him first, having been from +boyhood his companion, I may perhaps have sympathized +with him in the beginning. But since I have +come to know her, too, that is no longer so. And I +do think I know her—proud, sensitive, high-strung, +generous, captivating beauty that she is! Moreover, +after the fashion of many another "friend of the +family," I have fallen in love with her. Loving her +from afar, I send her as a nosegay these chapters gathered +in her own gardens. If some of the flowers are of +a kind for which she does not care, if some have thorns, +even if some are only weeds, I pray her to remember +that from what was growing in her gardens I was forced +to make my choice, and to believe that, whatever the defects +of my bouquet, it is meant to be a bunch of roses.</p> + + +<p class='signature'>J. S.</p> +<p><i>October 1, 1917.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Author makes his grateful acknowledgments to +the old friends and the new ones who assisted him upon +this journey. And once more he desires to express his +gratitude to the friend and fellow-traveler whose illustrations +are far from being his only contribution to this +volume.</p></div> + + +<p class='signature'>—J. S.</p> + + +<p>New York, October, 1917.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='3' style='font-size: large;'>THE BORDERLAND</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>CHAPTER</td><td> </td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I</a></td><td align='left'>ON JOURNEYS THROUGH THE STATES</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II</a></td><td align='left'>A BALTIMORE EVENING</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III</a></td><td align='left'>WHERE THE CLIMATES MEET</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV</a></td><td align='left'>TRIUMPHANT DEFEAT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V</a></td><td align='left'>TERRAPIN AND THINGS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI</a></td><td align='left'>DOUGHOREGAN MANOR AND THE CARROLLS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII</a></td><td align='left'>A RARE OLD TOWN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII</a></td><td align='left'>WE MEET THE HAMPTON GHOST</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX</a></td><td align='left'>ARE WE STANDARDIZED?</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X</a></td><td align='left'>HARPER'S FERRY AND JOHN BROWN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI</a></td><td align='left'>THE VIRGINIAS AND THE WASHINGTONS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII</a></td><td align='left'>I RIDE A HORSE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII</a></td><td align='left'>INTO THE OLD DOMINION</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV</a></td><td align='left'>CHARLOTTESVILLE AND MONTICELLO</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV</a></td><td align='left'>THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI</a></td><td align='left'>FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII</a></td><td align='left'>"A CERTAIN PARTY"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII</a></td><td align='left'>THE LEGACY OF HATE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX</a></td><td align='left'>"YOU-ALL" AND OTHER SECTIONAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX</a></td><td align='left'>IDIOMS AND ARISTOCRACY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI</a></td><td align='left'>THE CONFEDERATE CAPITAL</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII</a></td><td align='left'>RANDOM RICHMOND NOTES</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII</a></td><td align='left'>JEDGE CRUTCHFIELD'S COT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV</a></td><td align='left'>NORFOLK AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV</a></td><td align='left'>COLONEL TAYLOR AND GENERAL LEE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='3' style='font-size: large;'>THE HEART OF THE SOUTH</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI</a></td><td align='left'>RALEIGH AND JOSEPHUS DANIELS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII</a></td><td align='left'>ITEMS FROM "THE OLD NORTH STATE"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"> XXVIII</a></td><td align='left'>UNDER ST. MICHAEL'S CHIMES</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX</a></td><td align='left'>HISTORY AND ARISTOCRACY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX</a></td><td align='left'>POLITICS, A NEWSPAPER AND ST. CECILIA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_326">326</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI</a></td><td align='left'>"GULLA" AND THE BACK COUNTRY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_338">338</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII</a></td><td align='left'>OUT OF THE PAST</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_349">349</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII"> XXXIII</a></td><td align='left'>ALIVE ATLANTA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_356">356</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">XXXIV</a></td><td align='left'>GEORGIA JOURNALISM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_369">369</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">XXXV</a></td><td align='left'>SOME ATLANTA INSTITUTIONS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_384">384</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">XXXVI</a></td><td align='left'>A BIT OF RURAL GEORGIA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_392">392</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII"> XXXVII</a></td><td align='left'>A YOUNG METROPOLIS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_403">403</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">XXXVIII</a></td><td align='left'>BUSY BIRMINGHAM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_417">417</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">XXXIX</a></td><td align='left'>AN ALLEGORY OF ACHIEVEMENT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_426">426</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">XL</a></td><td align='left'>THE ROAD TO ARCADY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_440">440</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">XLI</a></td><td align='left'>A MISSISSIPPI TOWN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_447">447</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">XLII</a></td><td align='left'>OLD TALES AND A NEW GAME</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">XLIII</a></td><td align='left'>OUT OF THE LONG AGO</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_467">467</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">XLIV</a></td><td align='left'>THE GIRL HE LEFT BEHIND HIM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_474">474</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">XLV</a></td><td align='left'>VICKSBURG OLD AND NEW</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_482">482</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">XLVI</a></td><td align='left'>SHREDS AND PATCHES</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_494">494</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">XLVII</a></td><td align='left'>THE BAFFLING MISSISSIPPI</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_500">500</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII"> XLVIII</a></td><td align='left'>OLD RIVER DAYS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_508">508</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">XLIX</a></td><td align='left'>WHAT MEMPHIS HAS ENDURED</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_518">518</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_L">L</a></td><td align='left'>MODERN MEMPHIS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_535">535</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='3' style='font-size: large;'>FARTHEST SOUTH</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LI">LI</a></td><td align='left'>BEAUTIFUL SAVANNAH</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_553">553</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LII">LII</a></td><td align='left'>MISS "JAX" AND SOME FLORIDA GOSSIP</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_572">572</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">LIII</a></td><td align='left'>PASSIONATE PALM BEACH</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_579">579</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LIV">LIV</a></td><td align='left'>ASSORTED AND RESORTED FLORIDA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_595">595</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LV">LV</a></td><td align='left'>A DAY IN MONTGOMERY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_603">603</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LVI">LVI</a></td><td align='left'>THE CITY OF THE CREOLE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_619">619</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LVII">LVII</a></td><td align='left'>HISTORY, THE CREOLE, AND HIS DUELS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_629">629</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LVIII">LVIII</a></td><td align='left'>FROM ANTIQUES TO PIRATES</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_648">648</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LIX">LIX</a></td><td align='left'>ANTOINE'S AND MARDI GRAS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_663">663</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_LX">LX</a></td><td align='left'>FINALE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_675">675</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber's Note: Illustrations were interleaved between pages in the original text. In this version, +they have been moved beside the relevant section of the text. Page numbers below reflect the position of the +illustration in the original text but links link to current position of illustrations.]</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>FACING PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Charleston is the last stronghold of a unified American upper class; +the last remaining American city in which Madeira and Port and +<i>noblesse oblige</i> are fully and widely understood, and are employed +according to the best traditions</td><td align='right'><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"Railroad tickets!" said the baggageman with exaggerated patience</td><td align='right'><a href="#p8jpg">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Can most travellers, I wonder, enjoy as I do a solitary walk, by +night, through the mysterious streets of a strange city?</td><td align='right'><a href="#p17jpg">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Coming out of my slumber with the curious and unpleasant sense of +being stared at, I found his eyes fixed upon me</td><td align='right'><a href="#p24jpg">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mount Vernon Place is the centre of Baltimore</td><td align='right'><a href="#p32jpg">32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>If she is shopping for a dinner party, she may order the costly and +aristocratic diamond-back terrapin, sacred in Baltimore as is the +Sacred Cod in Boston</td><td align='right'><a href="#p48jpg">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Doughoregan Manor—the house was a buff-colored brick</td><td align='right'><a href="#p65jpg">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I began to realize that there was no one coming</td><td align='right'><a href="#p80jpg">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Ferry is an entrancing old town; a drowsy place piled up +beautifully yet carelessly upon terraced roads clinging to steep +hillsides</td><td align='right'><a href="#p100jpg">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"What's the matter with him?" I asked, stopping</td><td align='right'><a href="#p117jpg">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>When I came down, dressed for riding, my companion was making a +drawing; the four young ladies were with him, none of them in riding habits</td><td align='right'><a href="#p124jpg">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Claymont Court is one of the old Washington houses</td><td align='right'><a href="#p132jpg">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Chatham, the old Fitzhugh house, now the residence of Mark Sullivan</td><td align='right'><a href="#p148jpg">148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Monticello stands on a lofty hilltop, with vistas, between trees of +neighboring valleys, hills, and mountains</td><td align='right'><a href="#p157jpg">157</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Like Venice, the University of Virginia should first be seen by +moonlight</td><td align='right'><a href="#p168jpg">168</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>One party was stationed on the top of an old-time mail-coach, +bearing the significant initials "F. F. V."</td><td align='right'><a href="#p180jpg">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Piedmont Hunt Race Meet</td><td align='right'><a href="#p189jpg">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Southern negro is the world's peasant supreme</td><td align='right'><a href="#p200jpg">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Country Club of Virginia, out to the west of Richmond</td><td align='right'><a href="#p216jpg">216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Judge Crutchfield</td><td align='right'><a href="#p228jpg">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Negro women squatting upon boxes in old shadowy lofts stem the +tobacco leaves</td><td align='right'><a href="#p237jpg">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Judge: "What did he do, Mandy?"</td><td align='right'><a href="#p244jpg">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Some genuine old-time New York ferryboats help to complete the +illusion that Norfolk is New York</td><td align='right'><a href="#p253jpg">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"The Southern statesman who serves his section best, serves his +country best"</td><td align='right'><a href="#p280jpg">280</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>St. Philip's is the more beautiful for the open space before it</td><td align='right'><a href="#p300jpg">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Opposite St. Philip's, a perfect example of the rude architecture of +an old French village</td><td align='right'><a href="#p305jpg">305</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>In the doorway and gates of the Smyth house, in Legaré Street, I was +struck with a Venetian suggestion</td><td align='right'><a href="#p316jpg">316</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Nor is the Charleston background a mere arras of recollection</td><td align='right'><a href="#p320jpg">320</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Charleston has a stronger, deeper-rooted city entity than all the +cities of the Middle West rolled into one</td><td align='right'><a href="#p328jpg">328</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The interior is the oldest looking thing in the United States—Goose +Creek Church</td><td align='right'><a href="#p344jpg">344</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A reminder of the Chicago River—Atlanta</td><td align='right'><a href="#p353jpg">353</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>With the whole Metropolitan Orchestra playing dance music all night long</td><td align='right'><a href="#p368jpg">368</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The office buildings are city office buildings, and are sufficiently +numerous to look very much at home</td><td align='right'><a href="#p376jpg">376</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The negro roof-garden, Odd Fellows' Building, Atlanta</td><td align='right'><a href="#p385png">385</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I was never so conscious, as at the time of our visit to the Burge +Plantation, of the superlative soft sweetness of the spring</td><td align='right'><a href="#p396jpg">396</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The planters cease their work</td><td align='right'><a href="#p400jpg">400</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Birmingham—the thin veil of smoke from far-off iron furnaces +softens the city's serrated outlines</td><td align='right'><a href="#p408jpg">408</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Birmingham practices unremittingly the pestilential habit of +"cutting in" at dances</td><td align='right'><a href="#p424jpg">424</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Gigantic movements and mutations, Niagara-like noises, great bursts +of flame like falling fragments from the sun</td><td align='right'><a href="#p437jpg">437</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A shaggy, unshaven, rawboned man, gray-haired and collarless, sat +near the window</td><td align='right'><a href="#p444jpg">444</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Gaze upon the character called Daniel Voorhees Pike!</td><td align='right'><a href="#p456jpg">456</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The houses were full of the suggestion of an easy-going home life +and an informal hospitality</td><td align='right'><a href="#p465jpg">465</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Her hands looked very white and small against his dark coat</td><td align='right'><a href="#p480jpg">480</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>As water flows down the hills of Vicksburg to the river, so the +visitor's thoughts flow down to the great spectacular, mischievous, dominating stream</td><td align='right'><a href="#p485jpg">485</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Over the tenement roofs one catches sight of sundry other buildings +of a more self-respecting character</td><td align='right'><a href="#p492jpg">492</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Vicksburg negroes</td><td align='right'><a href="#p497jpg">497</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>On some of the boats negro fish-markets are conducted</td><td align='right'><a href="#p504jpg">504</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The old Klein house</td><td align='right'><a href="#p512jpg">512</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Citizens go at midday to the square</td><td align='right'><a href="#p526jpg">520</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Hanging in the air above the middle of the stream</td><td align='right'><a href="#p536jpg">536</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>These small parks give Savannah the quality which differentiates it +from all other American cities</td><td align='right'><a href="#p556jpg">556</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Thomas house, in Franklin Square</td><td align='right'><a href="#p561jpg">561</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>You will see them having tea, and dancing under the palm fronds of +the cocoanut grove</td><td align='right'><a href="#p576jpg">576</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cocktail hour at The Breakers</td><td align='right'><a href="#p581jpg">581</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Nowhere is the sand more like a deep warm dust of yellow gold</td><td align='right'><a href="#p588jpg">588</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The couples on the platform were "ragging"</td><td align='right'><a href="#p600jpg">600</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Harness held together by that especial Providence which watches over +negro mending</td><td align='right'><a href="#p613jpg">613</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>It was a very jolly fair</td><td align='right'><a href="#p616jpg">616</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The mysterious old Absinthe House, founded 1799</td><td align='right'><a href="#p620jpg">620</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>St. Anthony's Garden</td><td align='right'><a href="#p632jpg">632</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Courtyard of the old Orleans Hotel</td><td align='right'><a href="#p641jpg">641</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The little lady who sits behind the desk</td><td align='right'><a href="#p656jpg">656</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The lights are always lowered at Antoine's when the spectacular Café +Boulot Diabolique is served</td><td align='right'><a href="#p664jpg">664</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Passing between the brilliantly illuminated buildings, the Mardi +Gras parades are glorious sights for children from eight to eighty years of age</td><td align='right'><a href="#p672jpg">672</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_BORDERLAND" id="THE_BORDERLAND"></a>THE BORDERLAND</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O magnet-South! O glistening, perfumed South!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O all dear to me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">Walt Whitman.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>AMERICAN ADVENTURES</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /> +<br /> +ON JOURNEYS THROUGH THE STATES</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On journeys through the States we start,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">... We willing learners of all, teachers of all, lovers of all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We dwell a while in every city and town ...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<p>Had my companion and I never crossed the continent +together, had we never gone "abroad at +home," I might have curbed my impatience at +the beginning of our second voyage. But from the +time we returned from our first journey, after having +spent some months in trying, as some one put it, +to "discover America," I felt the gnawings of excited +appetite. The vast sweep of the country continually +suggested to me some great delectable repast: a banquet +spread for a hundred million guests; and having +discovered myself unable, in the time first allotted, to devour +more than part of it—a strip across the table, as +it were, stretching from New York on one side to San +Francisco on the other—I have hungered impatiently +for more. Indeed, to be quite honest, I should like to +try to eat it all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>Months before our actual departure for the South +the day for leaving was appointed; days before we fixed +upon our train; hours before I bought my ticket. And +then, when my trunks had left the house, when my taxicab +was ordered and my faithful battered suitcase +stood packed to bulging in the hall, my companion, the +Illustrator, telephoned to say that certain drawings he +must finish before leaving were not done, that he would +be unable to go with me that afternoon, as planned, but +must wait until the midnight train.</p> + +<p>Had the first leap been a long one I should have waited +for him, but the distance from New York to the other +side of Mason and Dixon's Line is short, and I knew +that he would join me on the threshold of the South next +morning. Therefore I told him I would leave that afternoon +as originally proposed, and gave him, in excuse, +every reason I could think of, save the real one: namely, +my impatience. I told him that I wished to make the +initial trip by day to avoid the discomforts of the sleeping +car, that I had engaged hotel accommodations for the +night by wire, that friends were coming down to see me +off.</p> + +<p>Nor were these arguments without truth. I believe +in telling the truth. The truth is good enough for +any one at any time—except, perhaps, when there is a +point to be carried, and even then some vestige of it +should, if convenient, be preserved. Thus, for example, +it is quite true that I prefer the conversation of my fellow +travelers, dull though it may be, to the stertorous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +sounds they make by night; so, too, if I had not telegraphed +for rooms, it was merely because I had forgotten +to—and that I remedied immediately; while as to +the statement that friends were to see me off, that was +absolutely and literally accurate. Friends had, indeed, +signified their purpose to meet me at the station for last +farewells, and had, furthermore, remarked upon the very +slight show of enthusiasm with which I heard the news.</p> + +<p>The fact is, I do not like to be seen off. Least of all, +do I like to be seen off by those who are dear to me. +If the thing must be done, I prefer it to be done by +strangers—committees from chambers of commerce and +the like, who have no interest in me save the hope that I +will live to write agreeably of their city—of the civic +center, the fertilizer works, and the charming new abattoir. +Seeing me off for the most practical of reasons, +such gentlemen are invariably efficient. They provide +an equipage, and there have even been times when, in +the final hurried moments, they have helped me to jam +the last things into my trunks and bags. One of them +politely takes my suitcase, another kindly checks my +baggage, and all in order that a third, who is usually the +secretary of the chamber of commerce, may regale me +with inspiring statistics concerning the population of +"our city," the seating capacity of the auditorium, the +number of banks, the amount of their clearings, and the +quantity of belt buckles annually manufactured. When +the train is ready we exchange polite expressions of regret +at parting: expressions reminiscent of those little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +speeches which the King of England and the Emperor +of Germany used to make at parting in the old days before +they found each other out and began dropping +high explosives on each other's roofs.</p> + +<p>Such a committee, feeling no emotion (except perhaps +relief) at seeing me depart, may be useful. Not so with +friends and loved ones. Useful as they may be in the +great crises of life, they are but disturbing elements in +the small ones. Those who would die for us seldom +check our trunks.</p> + +<p>By this I do not mean to imply that either of the two +delightful creatures who came to the Pennsylvania +Terminal to bid me good-by would die for me. That +one has lived for me and that both attempt to regulate +my conduct is more than enough. Hardly had I alighted +from my taxicab, hardly had the redcap seized my suitcase, +when, with sweet smiles and a twinkling of daintily +shod feet, they came. Fancy their having arrived ahead +of me! Fancy their having come like a pair of angels +through the rain to see me off! Enough to turn a man's +head! It did turn mine; and I noticed that, as they approached, +the heads of other men were turning too.</p> + +<p>Flattered to befuddlement, I greeted them and started +with them automatically in the direction of the concourse, +forgetting entirely the driver of my taxicab, who, +however, took in the situation and set up a great shout—whereat +I returned hastily and overpaid him.</p> + +<p>This accomplished, I rejoined my companions and, +with a radiant dark-haired girl at one elbow and a blonde,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +equally delectable, at the other, moved across the concourse.</p> + +<p>How gay they were as we strolled along! How amusing +were their prophecies of adventures destined to befall +me in the South. Small wonder that I took no +thought of whither I was going.</p> + +<p>Presently, having reached the wall at the other side +of the great vaulted chamber, we stopped.</p> + +<p>"Which train, boss?" asked the porter who had meekly +followed.</p> + +<p>Train? I had forgotten about trains. The mention +of the subject distracted my attention for the moment +from the <i>Loreleien</i>, stirred my drugged sense of duty, +and reminded me that I had trunks to check.</p> + +<p>My suggestion that I leave them briefly for this purpose +was lightly brushed aside.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" they cried. "We shall go with you."</p> + +<p>I gave in at once—one always does with them—and inquired +of the porter the location of the baggage room. +He looked somewhat fatigued as he replied:</p> + +<p>"It's away back there where we come from, boss."</p> + +<p>It was a long walk; in a garden, with no train to +catch, it would have been delightful.</p> + +<p>"Got your tickets?" suggested the porter as we passed +the row of grilled windows. He had evidently concluded +that I was irresponsible.</p> + +<p>As I had them, we continued on our way, and presently +achieved the baggage room, where they stood talking +and laughing, telling me of the morning's shopping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +expedition—hat-hunting, they called it—in the rain. I +fancy that we might have been there yet had not a baggageman, +perhaps divining that I had become a little bit +distrait and that I had business to transact, rapped +smartly on the iron counter with his punch and demanded:</p> + +<p>"Baggage checked?"</p> + +<p>Turning, not without reluctance, from a pair of violet +eyes and a pair of the most mysterious gray, I began +to fumble in my pockets for the claim checks.</p> + +<p>"How long shall you stay in Baltimore?" asked the +girl with the gray eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" I answered, still searching for the +checks.</p> + +<p>"That doesn't make sense," remarked the blue-eyed +girl as I found the checks and handed them to the baggageman. +"She asked how long you'd stay in Baltimore, +and you said: 'Yes, indeed.'"</p> + +<p>"About a week I meant to say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't believe a week will be enough," said Gray-eyes.</p> + +<p>"We can't stay longer," I declared. "We must keep +pushing on. There are so many places in the South to +see."</p> + +<p>"My sister has just been there, and she—"</p> + +<p>"Where to?" demanded the insistent baggageman.</p> + +<p>"Why, Baltimore, of course," I said. Had he paid +attention to our conversation he might have known.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You were saying," reminded Violet-eyes, "that your +sister—?"</p> + +<p>"She just came home from there, and says that—"</p> + +<p>"Railroad ticket!" said the baggageman with exaggerated +patience.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p8jpg" id="p8jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p8.jpg" width="600" height="345" alt=""Railroad ticket!" said the baggageman with exaggerated patience. I began to feel in various pockets" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Railroad ticket!" said the baggageman with exaggerated patience. I began to feel in various pockets</span> +</div> + +<p>I began again to feel in various pockets.</p> + +<p>"She says," continued Gray-eyes, "that she never met +more charming people or had better things to eat. She +loves the southern accent too."</p> + +<p>I don't know how the tickets got into my upper right +vest pocket; I never carry tickets there; but that is +where I found them.</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?" asked the other girl of me.</p> + +<p>"Like what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the southern accent."</p> + +<p>"Any valuation?" the baggageman demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered them both at once.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you <i>do</i>?" cried Violet-eyes, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; I think—"</p> + +<p>"Put down the amount and sign here," the baggageman +directed, pushing a slip toward me and placing a +pencil in my hand.</p> + +<p>I obeyed. The baggageman took the slip and went off +to a little desk. I judged that he had finished with me +for the moment.</p> + +<p>"But don't you think," my fair inquisitor continued, +"that the southern girls pile on the accent awfully, because +they know it pleases men?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps," I said. "But then, what better reason +could they have for doing so?"</p> + +<p>"Listen to that!" she cried to her companion. "Did +you ever hear such egotism?"</p> + +<p>"He's nothing but a man," said Gray-eyes scornfully. +"I wouldn't be a man for—"</p> + +<p>"A dollar and eighty-five cents," declared the baggageman.</p> + +<p>I paid him.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't be a man for anything!" my fair friend +finished as we started to move off.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have you one," I told her, opening the +concourse door.</p> + +<p>"<i>Hay!</i>" shouted the baggageman. "Here's your +ticket and your checks!"</p> + +<p>I returned, took them, and put them in my pocket. +Again we proceeded upon our way. I was glad to leave +the baggageman.</p> + +<p>This time the porter meant to take no chances.</p> + +<p>"What train, boss?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The Congressional Limited."</p> + +<p>"You got jus' four minutes."</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" cried Gray-eyes.</p> + +<p>"I thought," said Violet-eyes as we accelerated our +pace, "that you prided yourself on always having time +to spare?"</p> + +<p>"Usually I do," I answered, "but in this case—"</p> + +<p>"What car?" the porter interrupted tactfully.</p> + +<p>Again I felt for my tickets. This time they were in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +my change pocket. I can't imagine how I came to put +them there.</p> + +<p>"But in this case—<i>what</i>?" The violet eyes looked +threatening as their owner put the question.</p> + +<p>"Seat seven, car three," I told the porter firmly as we +approached the gate. Then, turning to my dangerous +and lovely cross-examiner: "In this case I am unfortunate, +for there is barely time to say good-by."</p> + +<p>There are several reasons why I don't believe in railway +station kisses. Kisses given in public are at best +but skimpy little things, suggesting the swift peck of a +robin at a peach, whereas it is truer of kissing than of +many other forms of industry that what is worth doing +at all is worth doing well. Yet I knew that one of these +enchantresses expected to be kissed, and that the other +very definitely didn't. Therefore I kissed them both.</p> + +<p>Then I bolted toward the gate.</p> + +<p>"Tickets!" demanded the gateman, stopping me.</p> + +<p>At last I found them in the inside pocket of my overcoat. +I don't know how they got there. I never carry +tickets in that pocket.</p> + +<p>As the train began to move I looked at my watch and, +discovering it to be three minutes fast, set it right. +That is the sort of train the Congressional Limited is. +A moment later we were roaring through the blackness +of the Hudson River tunnel.</p> + +<p>There is something fine in the abruptness of the escape +from New York City by the Pennsylvania Railroad. +From the time you enter the station you are as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +good as gone. There is no progress between the city's +tenements, with untidy bedding airing in some windows +and fat old slatterns leaning out from others to survey +the sordidness and squalor of the streets below. A swift +plunge into darkness, some thundering moments, and +your train glides out upon the wide wastes of the New +Jersey meadows. The city is gone. You are even in +another State. Far, far behind, bathed in glimmering +haze which gives them the appearance of palaces in a +mirage, you may see the tops of New York's towering +sky-scrapers, dwarfed yet beautified by distance. Outside +the wide car window the advertising sign-boards +pass to the rear in steady parade, shrieking in strong +color of whiskies, tobaccos, pills, chewing gums, cough +drops, flours, hams, hotels, soaps, socks, and shows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /> +<br /> +A BALTIMORE EVENING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I felt her presence by its spell of might,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stoop o'er me from above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The calm, majestic presence of the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As of the one I love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Longfellow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Before I went to Baltimore I had but two +definite impressions connected with the place: +the first was of a tunnel, filled with coal gas, +through which trains pass beneath the city; the second +was that when a southbound train left Baltimore the +time had come to think of cleaning up, preparatory to +reaching Washington.</p> + +<p>Arriving at Baltimore after dark, one gathers an impression +of an adequate though not impressive Union +Station from which one emerges to a district of good +asphalted streets, the main ones wide and well lighted. +The Baltimore street lamps are large and very brilliant +single globes, mounted upon the tops of substantial +metal columns. I do not remember having seen lamps +of the same pattern in any other city. It is a good pattern, +but there is one thing about it which is not good +at all, and that is the way the street names are lettered +upon the sides of the globes. Though the lettering is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +not large, it is large enough to be read easily in the daytime +against the globe's white surface, but to try to +read it at night is like trying to read some little legend +printed upon a blinding noon-day sun. I noticed this +particularly because I spent my first evening in wandering +alone about the streets of Baltimore, and wished +to keep track of my route in order that I might the more +readily find my way back to the hotel.</p> + +<p>Can most travelers, I wonder, enjoy as I do a solitary +walk, by night, through the mysterious streets of +a strange city? Do they feel the same detached yet +keen interest in unfamiliar highways, homes, and human +beings, the same sense of being a wanderer from +another world, a "messenger from Mars," a Harun-al-Rashid, +or, if not one of these, an imaginative adventurer +like Tartarin? Do they thrill at the sight of an +ill-lighted street leading into a no-man's-land of menacing +dark shadows; at the promise of a glowing window +puncturing the blackness here or there; at the invitation +of some open doorway behind which unilluminated +blackness hangs, threatening and tempting? Do they +rejoice in streets the names of which they have not +heard before? Do they—as I do—delight in irregularity: +in the curious forms of roofs and spires against +the sky; in streets which run up hill or down; or which, +instead of being straight, have jogs in them, or curves, +or interesting intersections, at which other streets dart +off from them obliquely, as though in a great hurry to +get somewhere? Do they love to emerge from a street<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +which is narrow, dim, and deserted, upon one which is +wide, bright, and crowded; and do they also like to +leave a brilliant street and dive into the darkness of +some somber byway? Does a long row of lights lure +them, block by block, toward distances unknown? Are +they tempted by the unfamiliar signs on passing street +cars? Do they yearn to board those cars and be transported +by them into the mystic caverns of the night? +And when they see strangers who are evidently going +somewhere with some special purpose, do they wish to +follow; to find out where these beings are going, and +why? Do they wish to trail them, let the trail lead to +a prize fight, to a church sociable, to a fire, to a fashionable +ball, or to the ends of the world?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 466px;"> +<a name="p17jpg" id="p17jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p17.jpg" width="466" height="600" alt="Can most travellers, I wonder, enjoy as I do a solitary walk, by night, through +the mysterious streets of a strange city?" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Can most travellers, I wonder, enjoy as I do a solitary walk, by night, through +the mysterious streets of a strange city?</span> +</div> + +<p>For the traveler who does not know such sensations +and such impulses as these—who has not at times indulged +in the joy of yielding to an inclination of at least +mildly fantastic character—I am profoundly sorry. +The blind themselves are not so blind as those who, seeing +with the physical eye, lack the eye of imagination.</p> + +<p>Residence streets like Chase and Biddle, in the blocks +near where they cross Charles Street, midway on its +course between the Union Station and Mount Vernon +Place, are at night, even more than by day, full of the +suggestion of comfortable and settled domesticity. +Their brick houses, standing wall to wall and close to +the sidewalk, speak of honorable age, and, in some +cases of a fine and ancient dignity. One fancies +that in many of these houses the best of old ma<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>hogany +may be found, or, if not that, then at least the +fairly old and quite creditable furniture of the period +of the sleigh-back bed, the haircloth-covered rosewood +sofa, and the tall, narrow mirror between the two front +windows of the drawing room.</p> + +<p>Through the glass panels of street doors and beneath +half-drawn window shades the early-evening wayfarer +may perceive a feeble glow as of illuminating gas turned +low; but by ten o'clock these lights have begun to disappear, +indicating—or so, at all events, I chose to believe—that +certain old ladies wearing caps and black silk +gowns with old lace fichus held in place by ancient +cameos, have proceeded slowly, rustlingly, upstairs to +bed, accompanied by their cats.</p> + +<p>At Cathedral Street, a block or two from Charles, +Biddle Street performs a jog, dashing off at a tangent +from its former course, while Chase Street not only jogs +and turns at the corresponding intersection, but does +so again, where, at the next corner, it meets at once with +Park Avenue and Berkeley Street. After this it runs +but a short way and dies, as though exhausted by its +own contortions.</p> + +<p>Here, in a region of malformed city blocks—some of +them pentagonal, some irregularly quadrangular, some +wedge-shaped—Howard Street sets forth upon its way, +running first southwest as far as Richmond Street, then +turning south and becoming, by degrees, an important +thoroughfare.</p> + +<p>Somewhere near the beginning of Howard Street my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +attention was arrested by shadowy forms in a dark +window: furniture, andirons, chinaware, and weapons +of obsolete design: unmistakable signs of a shop in +which antiquities were for sale. After making mental +note of the location of this shop, I proceeded on my +way, keeping a sharp lookout for other like establishments. +Nor was I to be disappointed. These birds of +a feather bear out the truth of the proverb by flocking +together in Howard Street, as window displays, faintly +visible, informed me.</p> + +<p>Since we have come naturally to the subject of antiques, +let us pause here, under a convenient lamp-post, +and discuss the matter further.</p> + +<p>Baltimore—as I found out later—is probably the +headquarters for the South in this trade. It has at least +one dealer of Fifth Avenue rank, located on Charles +Street, and a number of humbler dealers in and near +Howard Street. Among the latter, two in particular +interested me. One of these—his name is John A. +Williar—I have learned to trust. Not only did I make +some purchases of him while I was in Baltimore, but +I have even gone so far, since leaving there, as to buy +from him by mail, accepting his assurance that some +article which I have not seen is, nevertheless, what I +want, and that it is "worth the price."</p> + +<p>At the other antique shop which interested me I made +no purchases. The stock on hand was very large, and +if those who exhibited it to me made no mistakes in +differentiating between genuine antiques and copies,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +the assortment of ancient furniture on sale in that establishment, +when I was there, would rank among the +great collections of the world.</p> + +<p>However, human judgment is not infallible, and +antique dealers sometimes make mistakes, offering, so +to speak, "new lamps for old." The eyesight of some +dealers may not be so good as that of others; or perhaps +one dealer does not know so well as another the +difference between, say, an old English Chippendale +chair and a New York reproduction; or again, perhaps, +some dealers may be innocently unaware that there exist, +in this land of ours, certain large establishments +wherein are manufactured most extraordinary modern +copies of the furniture of long ago. I have been in +one of these manufactories, and have there seen chairs +of Chippendale and Sheraton design which, though +fresh from the workman's hands, looked older than +the originals from which they had been plagiarized; +also I recall a Jacobean refectory table, the legs of which +appeared to have been eaten half away by time, but +which had, in reality, been "antiqued" with a stiff +wire brush. I mention this because, in my opinion, antique +dealers have a right to know that such factories +exist.</p> + +<p>What curious differences there are between the customs +of one trade and those of another. Compare, for +instance, the dealer in old furniture with the dealer in +old automobiles. The latter, far from pronouncing a +machine of which he wishes to dispose "a genuine an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>tique," +will assure you—and not always with a strict +regard for truth—that it is "practically as good as +new." Or compare the seller of antiques with the horse +dealer. Can you imagine the latter's taking you up to +some venerable quadruped—let alone a three-year-old—and +discoursing upon its merits in some such manner as +the following:</p> + +<p>"This is the oldest and most historic horse that has +ever come into my possession. Just look at it, sir! +The farmer of whom I bought it assured me that it +was brought over by his ancestors in the <i>Mayflower</i>. +The place where I found it was used as Washington's +headquarters during the Revolutionary War, and it is +known that Washington himself frequently sat on this +very horse. It was a favorite of his. For he was a +large man and he liked a big, comfortable, deep-seated +horse, well braced underneath, and having strong arms, +so that he could tilt it back comfortably against the wall, +with its front legs off the floor, and—"</p> + +<p>But no! That won't do. It appears I have gotten +mixed. However, you know what I meant to indicate. +I merely meant to show that a horse dealer wouldn't +talk about a horse as an antique dealer would talk about +a chair. Even if the horse was once actually ridden by +the Father of his Country, the dealer won't stress the +point. You can't get him to admit that a horse has +reached years of discretion, let alone that it is one hundred +and forty-five years old, or so. It is this difference +between the horse dealer and the dealer in antiques<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +which keeps us in the dark to-day as to exactly which +horses Washington rode and which he didn't ride; although +we know every chair he ever sat in, and every +bed he ever slept in, and every house he ever stopped +in, and how he is said to have caught his death of cold.</p> + +<p>Having thus wandered afield, let me now resume my +nocturnal walk.</p> + +<p>Proceeding down Howard Street to Franklin, I +judged by the signs I saw about me—the conglomerate +assortment of theaters, hotels, rathskellers, bars, and +brilliantly lighted drug stores—that here was the center +of the city's nighttime life.</p> + +<p>Not far from this corner is the Academy, a very +spacious and somewhat ancient theater, and although +the hour was late, into the Academy I went with a ticket +for standing room.</p> + +<p>Arriving during an intermission, I had a good view +of the auditorium. It is reminiscent, in its interior +"decoration," of the recently torn-down Wallack's Theater +in New York. The balcony is supported, after the +old fashion, by posts, and there are boxes the tops of +which are draped with tasseled curtains. It is the kind +of theater which suggests traditions, dust, and the possibility +of fire and panic.</p> + +<p>After looking about me for a time, I drew from my +pocket a pamphlet which I had picked up in the hotel, +and began to gather information about the "Monumental +City," as Baltimore sometimes calls itself—thereby +misusing the word, since "monumental" means, in one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +sense, "enduring," and in another "pertaining to or +serving as a monument": neither of which ideas it is +intended, in this instance, to convey. What Baltimore +intends to indicate is, not that it pertains to monuments, +but that monuments pertain to it: that it is a city in +which many monuments have been erected—as is indeed +the pleasing fact. My pamphlet informed me that +the first monument to Columbus and the first to George +Washington were here put up, and that among the city's +other monuments was one to Francis Scott Key. I had +quite forgotten that it was at Baltimore that Key wrote +the words of "The Star-Spangled Banner," and, as +others may have done the same, it may be well here to +recall the details.</p> + +<p>In 1814, after the British had burned a number of +Government buildings in Washington, including "the +President's palace" (as one of their officers expressed +it), they moved on Baltimore, making an attack by land +at North Point and a naval attack at Fort McHenry on +Whetstone Point in the estuary of the Patapsco River—here +practically an arm of Chesapeake Bay. Both attacks +were repulsed. Having gone on the United States +cartel ship <i>Minden</i> (used by the government in negotiating +exchanges of prisoners) to intercede for his +friend, Dr. William Beanes, of Upper Marlborough, +Maryland, who was held captive on a British vessel, Key +witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry from the +deck of the <i>Minden</i>, and when he perceived "by the +dawn's early light" that the flag still flew over the fort,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +he was moved to write his famous poem. Later it was +printed and set to music; it was first sung in a restaurant +near the old Holliday Street Theater, but neither the +restaurant nor the theater exists to-day. It is sometimes +stated that Key was himself a prisoner, during +the bombardment, on a British warship. That is a mistake.</p> + +<p>By a curious coincidence, only a few minutes after +my pamphlet had reminded me of the origin of "The +Star-Spangled Banner" here in Baltimore, I heard the +air played under circumstances very different from any +which could have been anticipated by the author of the +poem, or the composer who set it to music.</p> + +<p>The entertainment at the Academy that night was +supplied by an elaborate "show" of the burlesque variety +known as "The Follies," and it so happened that in the +course of this hodgepodge of color, comedy, scenery, +song, and female anatomy, there was presented a "number" +in which actors, garbed and frescoed with intent +to resemble rulers of various lands, marched successively +to the front of the stage, preceded in each instance by a +small but carefully selected guard wearing the full-dress-uniform +of Broadway Amazons. This uniform consists +principally of tights and high-heeled slippers, the +different nations being indicated, usually, by means of +color combinations and various types of soldiers' hats. +No arms are presented save those provided by nature.</p> + +<p>The King of Italy, the Emperor of Austria, the Czar, +the Mikado, the British Monarch, the President of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +France, the King of the Belgians, the Kaiser (for the +United States had not then entered the war), and, I +think, some others, put in an appearance, each accompanied +by his Paphian escort, his standard, and the appropriate +national air. Apprehending that this symbolic +travesty must, almost inevitably, end in a grand +orgy of Yankee-Doodleism, I was impelled to flee the +place before the thing should happen. Yet a horrid +fascination held me there to watch the working up of +"patriotic" sentiment by the old, cheap, stage tricks.</p> + +<p>Presently, of course, the supreme moment came. +When all the potentates had taken their positions, right +and left, with their silk-limbed soldiery in double ranks +behind them, there came into view upstage a squad of +little white-clad female naval officers, each, according to +my recollection, carrying the Stars and Stripes. As +these marched forward and deployed as skirmishers before +the footlights, the orchestra struck up "The Star-Spangled +Banner," fortissimo, and with a liberal sounding +of the brasses. Upon this appeared at the back a +counterfeit President of the United States, guarded on +either side by a female militia—or were they perhaps +secret-service agents?—in striking uniforms consisting +of pink fleshings partially draped with thin black lace.</p> + +<p>As this incongruous parade proceeded to the footlights, +American flags came into evidence, and, though +I forget whether or not Columbia appeared, I recollect +that a beautiful young woman, habited in what appeared +to be a light pink union suit of unexceptionable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +cut and material, appeared above the head of the pseudo-chief +executive, suspended at the end of a wire. Never +having heard that it was White House etiquette to hang +young ladies on wires above the presidential head, I +consulted my program and thereby learned that this +young lady represented that species of poultry so popular +always with the late Secretary of State, Mr. Bryan, +and so popular also at one time with the President himself: +namely, the Dove of Peace.</p> + +<p>The applause was thunderous. At the sound of "The +Star-Spangled Banner" a few members of the audience +arose to their feet; others soon followed—some of them +apparently with reluctance—until at last the entire house +had risen. Meanwhile the members of the company +lined up before the footlights: the mock president smirking +at the center, the half-clad girls posing, the pink +young lady dangling above, the band blaring, the Stars +and Stripes awave. It was a scene, in all, about as conducive +to genuine or creditable national pride as would +be the scene of a debauch in some fabulous harem.</p> + +<p>The difference between stupidity and satire lies, not +infrequently, in the intent with which a thing is done. +Presented without essential change upon the stage of a +music hall in some foreign land, the scene just described +would, at that time, when we were playing a timid part +amongst the nations, have been accepted, not as a glorification +of the United States, but as having a precisely +opposite significance. It would have been taken for +burlesque; burlesque upon our country, our President,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +our national spirit, our peace policy, our army, and perhaps +also upon our women—and insulting burlesque at +that.</p> + +<p>Some years since, it was found necessary to pass a law +prohibiting the use of the flag for advertising purposes. +This law should be amended to protect it also from +the even more sordid and vulgarizing associations to +which it is not infrequently submitted on the American +musical-comedy stage.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In the morning, before I was awake, my companion +arrived at the hotel, and, going to his room, opened the +door connecting it with mine. Coming out of my slumber +with that curious and not altogether pleasant sense +of being stared at, I found his eyes fixed upon me, and +noticed immediately about him the air of virtuous superiority +which is assumed by all who have risen early, +whether they have done so by choice or have been shaken +awake.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p24jpg" id="p24jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p24.jpg" width="600" height="393" alt="Coming out of my slumber with the curious and unpleasant sense of being stared at, I found his eyes fixed upon me" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Coming out of my slumber with the curious and unpleasant sense of being stared at, I found his eyes fixed upon me</span> +</div> + +<p>"Hello," I said. "Had breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"No. I thought we could breakfast together if you +felt like getting up."</p> + +<p>Though the phraseology of this remark was unexceptionable, +I knew what it meant. What it really +meant was: "Shame on you, lying there so lazy after +sunup! Look at <i>me</i>, all dressed and ready to begin!"</p> + +<p>I arose at once.</p> + +<p>For all that I don't like to get up early, it recalled old +times, and was very pleasant, to be away with him again<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +upon our travels; to be in a strange city and a strange +hotel, preparing to set forth on explorations. For he +is the best, the most charming, the most observant of +companions, and also one of the most patient.</p> + +<p>That is one of his greatest qualities—his patience. +Throughout our other trip he always kept on being patient +with me, no matter what I did. Many a time +instead of pushing me down an elevator shaft, drowning +me in my bath, or coming in at night and smothering +me with a pillow, he has merely sighed, dropped +into a chair, and sat there shaking his head and staring +at me with a melancholy, ruminative, hopeless expression—such +an expression as may come into the face of +a dumb man when he looks at a waiter who has spilled +an oyster cocktail on him.</p> + +<p>All this is good for me. It has a chastening effect.</p> + +<p>Therefore in a spirit happy yet not exuberant, eager +yet controlled, hopeful yet a little bit afraid, I dressed +myself hurriedly, breakfasted with him (eating ham +and eggs because he approves of ham and eggs), and +after breakfast set out in his society to obtain what—despite +my walk of the night before—I felt was not +alone my first real view of Baltimore, but my first +glimpse over the threshold of the South: into the land +of aristocracy and hospitality, of mules and mammies, +of plantations, porticos, and proud, flirtatious belles, of +colonels, cotton, chivalry, and colored cooking.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /> +<br /> +WHERE THE CLIMATES MEET</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Here, where the climates meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That each may make the other's lack complete—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Sidney Lanier.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Because Baltimore was built, like Rome, on +seven hills, and because trains run under it instead +of through, the passing traveler sees but +little of the city, his view from the train window being +restricted first to a suburban district, then to a black +tunnel, then to a glimpse upward from the railway +cut, in which the station stands. These facts, I think, +combine to leave upon his mind an impression which, +if not actually unfavorable, is at least negative; for certainly +he has obtained no just idea of the metropolis of +Maryland.</p> + +<p>Let it be declared at the outset, then, that Baltimore +is not in any sense to be regarded as a suburb +of Washington. Indeed, considering the two merely as +cities situated side by side, and eliminating the highly +specialized features of Washington, Baltimore becomes, +according to the standards by which American cities +are usually compared, the more important city of the +two, being greater both in population and in commerce. +In this aspect Baltimore may, perhaps, be pictured as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +commercial half of Washington. And while Washington, +as capital of the United States, has certain physical +and cosmopolitan advantages, not only over Baltimore, +but over every other city on this continent, it must +not be forgotten that, upon the other hand, every other +city has one vast advantage over Washington, namely, +a comparative freedom from politicians. To be sure, +Congress did once move over to Baltimore and sit there +for several weeks, but that was in 1776, when the British +approached the Delaware in the days before the pork +barrel was invented.</p> + +<p>As a city Baltimore has marked characteristics. +Though south of Mason and Dixon's Line, and though +sometimes referred to as the "metropolis of the South" +(as is New Orleans also), it is in character neither a city +entirely northern nor entirely southern, but one which +partakes of the qualities of both; where, in the words +of Sidney Lanier, "the climates meet," and where northern +and southern thought and custom meet, as well. +This has long been the case. Thus, although slaves +were held in Baltimore before the Civil War, a strong +abolitionist society was formed there during Washington's +first Administration, and the sentiment of the city +was thereafter divided on the slavery question. Thus +also, while the two candidates of the divided Democratic +party who ran against Lincoln for the presidency in +1860 were nominated at Baltimore, Lincoln himself was +nominated there by the Union-Republican party in 1864.</p> + +<p>Speaking of the blending of North and South in Balti<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>more, +you will, of course, remember that the Sixth +Massachusetts Regiment was attacked by a mob as it +passed through the city on the way to the Civil War. +The regiment arrived in Baltimore at the old President +Street Station, which was then the main station of the +Pennsylvania Railroad, and which, now used as a freight +station, looks like an old war-time woodcut out of +<i>Harper's Weekly</i>. It was the custom in those days +to hitch horses to passenger coaches which were going +through and draw them across town to the Baltimore & +Ohio Station; but when it was attempted thus to transport +the northern troops a mob gathered and blocked +the Pratt Street bridge over Jones's Falls, forcing the +soldiers to leave the cars and march through Pratt +Street, along the water front, where they were attacked. +It is, however, a noteworthy fact that Mayor Brown +of Baltimore bravely preceded the troops and attempted +to stop the rioting. A few days later the city was occupied +by northern troops, and the warship <i>Harriet Lane</i> +anchored at a point off Calvert Street, whence her guns +commanded the business part of town. After this +there was no more serious trouble. Moreover, it will +be remembered that though Maryland was represented +by regiments in both armies, the State, torn as it +was by conflicting feeling, nevertheless held to the +Union.</p> + +<p>A pretty sequel to the historic attack on the Sixth +Massachusetts occurred when the same regiment passed +through Baltimore in 1898, on its way to the Spanish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +War. On this occasion it was "attacked" again in the +streets of the city, but the missiles thrown, instead of +paving-stones and bricks, were flowers.</p> + +<p>Continuing the category of contrasts, one may observe +that while the general appearance of Baltimore +suggests a northern city rather than a southern one—Philadelphia, +for instance, rather than Richmond—Baltimore +society is strongly flavored with the tradition and +the soft pronunciation of the South; particularly of +Virginia and the "Eastern Shore."</p> + +<p>So, too, the city's position on the border line is reflected +in its handling of the negro. Of American cities, +Washington has the largest negro population, 94,446, +New York and New Orleans follow with almost as +many, and Baltimore comes fourth with 84,749, according +to the last census. New York has one negro to +every fifty-one whites, Philadelphia one to every seventeen +whites, Baltimore one to every six, Washington a +negro to every two and a half whites, and Richmond not +quite two whites to every negro. But, although Baltimore +follows southern practice in maintaining separate +schools for negro children, and in segregating negro +residences to certain blocks, she follows northern practice +in casting a considerable negro vote at elections, and +also in not providing separate seats for negroes in her +street cars.</p> + +<p>Have you ever noticed how cities sometimes seem +to have their own especial colors? Paris is white and +green—even more so, I think, than Washington. Chi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>cago +is gray; so is London usually, though I have seen it +buff at the beginning of a heavy fog. New York used +to be a brown sandstone city, but is now turning to one +of cream-colored brick and tile; Naples is brilliant with +pink and blue and green and white and yellow; while as +for Baltimore, her old houses and her new are, as Baedeker +puts it, of "cheerful red brick"—not always, of +course, but often enough to establish the color of red +brick as the city's predominating hue. And with the +red-brick houses—particularly the older ones—go clean +white marble steps, on the bottom one of which, at the +side, may usually be found an old-fashioned iron +"scraper," doubtless left over from the time (not very +long ago) when the city pavements had not reached their +present excellence.</p> + +<p>The color of red brick is not confined to the center of +the city, but spreads to the suburbs, fashionable and +unfashionable. At one margin of the town I was shown +solid blocks of pleasant red-brick houses which, I was +told, were occupied by workmen and their families, and +were to be had at a rental of from ten to twenty dollars +a month. For though Baltimore has a lower East +Side which, like the lower East Side of New York, encompasses +the Ghetto and Italian quarter, she has not +tenements in the New York sense; one sees no tall, cheap +flat houses draped with fire escapes and built to make +herding places for the poor. Many of the houses in +this section are instead the former homes of fashionables +who have moved to other quarters of the city<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>—handsome +old homesteads with here and there a lovely, +though battered, doorway sadly reminiscent of an earlier +elegance. So, also, red brick permeates the prosperous +suburbs, such as Roland Park and Guilford, where, in a +sweetly rolling country which lends itself to the arrangement +of graceful winding roads and softly contoured +plantings, stand quantities of pleasing homes, +lately built, many of them colonial houses of red brick. +Indeed, it struck us that the only parts of Baltimore +in which red brick was not the dominant note were the +downtown business section and Mount Vernon Place.</p> + +<p>Mount Vernon Place is the center of Baltimore. +Everything begins there, including Baedeker, who, in +his little red book, gives it the asterisk of his approval, +says that it "suggests Paris in its tasteful monuments +and surrounding buildings," and recommends the view +from the top of the Washington Monument.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p32jpg" id="p32jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p32.jpg" width="600" height="393" alt="Mount Vernon Place is the centre of Baltimore. Everything begins there, including Baedeker" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Mount Vernon Place is the centre of Baltimore. Everything begins there, including Baedeker</span> +</div> + +<p>This monument, standing upon an eminence at the +point where Charles and Monument Streets would cross +each other were not their courses interrupted by the +pleasing parked space of Mount Vernon Place, is a +gray stone column, surmounted by a figure of Washington—or, +rather, by the point of a lightning rod under +which the figure stands. Other monuments are known +as this monument or that, but when "the monument" +is spoken of, the Washington Monument is inevitably +meant. This is quite natural, for it is not only the most +simple and picturesque old monument in Baltimore, but +also the largest, the oldest, and the most conspicuous:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +its proud head, rising high in air, having for nearly +a century dominated the city. One catches glimpses of +it down this street or that, or sees it from afar over the +housetops; and sometimes, when the column is concealed +from view by intervening buildings, and only the surmounting +statue shows above them, one is struck by a +sudden apparition of the Father of his Country strolling +fantastically upon some distant roof.</p> + +<p>Though it may be true that Mount Vernon Place, +with its symmetrical parked center and its admirable +bronzes (several of them by Baryé), suggests Paris, +and though it is certainly true that it is more like a +Parisian square than a London square, nevertheless it is +in reality an American square—perhaps the finest of its +kind in the United States. If it were Parisian, it would +have more trees and the surrounding buildings would be +uniform in color and in cornice height. It is perhaps +as much like Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia as any +other, and that resemblance is of the slightest, for Mount +Vernon Place has a quality altogether its own. It +has no skyscrapers or semi-skyscrapers to throw it out +of balance; and though the structures which surround +it are of white stone, brown stone, and red brick, and of +anything but homogeneous architecture, nevertheless a +comparative uniformity of height, a universal solidity +of construction, and a general grace about them, combine +to give the Place an air of equilibrium and dignity +and elegance.</p> + +<p>Including the Washington Monument, Baltimore has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +three lofty landmarks, likely to be particularly noticed +by the roving visitor. Of the remaining two, one is the +old brick shot-tower in the lower part of town, which +legend tells us was put up without the use of scaffolding +nearly a hundred years ago; while the other, a more +modern, if less modest structure, proudly surmounts a +large commercial building and is itself capped by the +gigantic effigy of a bottle. This bottle is very conspicuous +because of its emplacement, because it revolves, +and because it is illuminated at night. You can never +get away from it.</p> + +<p>One evening I asked a man what the bottle meant up +there.</p> + +<p>"It's a memorial to Emerson," he told me.</p> + +<p>"Are they so fond of Emerson down here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know as they are so all-fired fond of him," +he answered.</p> + +<p>"But they <i>must</i> be fond of him to put up such a big +memorial. Why, even in Boston, where he was born, +they have no such memorial as that."</p> + +<p>"He put it up himself," said the man.</p> + +<p>That struck me as strange. It seemed somehow out +of character with the great philosopher. Also, I could +not see why, if he did wish to raise a memorial to himself, +he had elected to fashion it in the form of a bottle +and put it on top of an office building.</p> + +<p>"I suppose there is some sort of symbolism about it?" +I suggested.</p> + +<p>"Now you got it," approved the man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>I gazed at the tower for a while in thought. Then +I said:</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that Emerson meant something like +this: that human life or, indeed, the soul, may be likened +to the contents of a bottle; that day by day we use up +some portion of the contents—call it, if you like, the +nectar of existence—until the fluid of life runs low, and +at last is gone entirely, leaving only the husk, as it were—or, +to make the metaphor more perfect, the shell, or +empty bottle: the container of what Emerson himself +called, if I recollect correctly, 'the soul that maketh all'—do +you suppose he meant to teach us some such thing +as that?"</p> + +<p>The man looked a little confused by this deep and +beautiful thought.</p> + +<p>"He <i>might</i> of meant that," he said, somewhat dubiously. +"But they tell me Captain Emerson's a practical +man, and I reckon what he <i>mainly</i> meant was that he +made his money out of this-here Bromo Seltzer, and he +was darn glad of it, so he thought he'd put him up a big +Bromo Seltzer bottle as a kind of cross between a monument +and an ad."</p> + +<p>If the bottle tower represents certain modern concepts +of what is suitable in architecture, it is nevertheless +pleasant to record the fact that many honorable +old buildings—most of them residences—survive in +Baltimore, and that, because of their survival, the city +looks older than New York and fully as old as either +Philadelphia or Boston. But in this, appearances are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +misleading, for New York and Boston were a century +old, and Philadelphia half a century, when Baltimore +was first laid out as a town. Efforts to start a settlement +near the city's present site were, it is true, being +made before William Penn and his Quakers established +Philadelphia, but a letter written in 1687 by Charles Calvert, +third Baron Baltimore, explains that: "The people +there [are] not affecting to build nere each other but +soe as to have their houses nere the watters for conveniencye +of trade and their lands on each side of and +behynde their houses, by which it happens that in most +places there are not fifty houses in the space of thirty +myles."<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>The difficulty experienced by the Barons Baltimore, +Lords Proprietary of Maryland, in building up communities +in their demesne was not a local problem, but one +which confronted those interested in the development +of the entire portion of this continent now occupied by +the Southern States. Generally speaking, towns came +into being more slowly in the South than in the North, +and it seems probable that one of the principal reasons +for this may be found in the fact that settlers throughout +the South lived generally at peace with the Indians, +whereas the northern settlers were obliged to congregate +in towns for mutual protection. Thus, in colonial +days, while the many cities of New York and New England +were coming into being, the South was developing +its vast and isolated plantations. Farms on the St.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +Lawrence River and on the Detroit River, where the +French were settling, were very narrow and very deep, +the idea being to range the houses close together on the +river front; but on such rivers as the Potomac, the Rappahannock +and the James, no element of early fear is to +be traced in the form of the broad baronial plantations.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, when Baltimore began at last to grow, +she became a prodigy, not only among American cities, +but among the cities of the world. Her first town directory +was published in 1796, and she began the next +year as an incorporated city, with a mayor, a population +of about twenty thousand, and a curiously assorted early +history containing such odd items as that the first umbrella +carried in the United States was brought from +India and unfurled in Baltimore in 1772; that the town +had for some time possessed such other useful articles +as a fire engine, a brick theater, a newspaper, and +policemen; that the streets were lighted with oil lamps; +that such proud signs of metropolitanism as riot and epidemic +were not unknown; that before the Revolution +bachelors were taxed for the benefit of his Britannic +Majesty; and that at fair time the "lid was off," and the +citizen or visitor who wished to get himself arrested +must needs be diligent indeed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /> +<br /> +TRIUMPHANT DEFEAT</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There are some defeats more triumphant than victories.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Montaigne.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Following the incorporation of the city, Baltimore +grew much as Chicago was destined to +grow more than a century later; within less than +thirty years, when Chicago was a tiny village, Baltimore +had become the third city in the United States: a +city of wealthy merchants engaged in an extensive foreign +trade; for in those days there was an American +merchant marine, and the swift, rakish Baltimore clippers +were known the seven seas over.</p> + +<p>The story of modern Baltimore is entirely unrelated +to the city's early history. It consists in a simple but +inspiring record of regeneration springing from disaster. +It is the story of Chicago, of San Francisco, of +Galveston, of Dayton, and of many a smaller town: a +cataclysm, a few days of despair, a return of courage, +and another beginning.</p> + +<p>Imagine yourself being tucked into bed one night by +your valet or your maid, as the case may be, calm in the +feeling that all was secure: that your business was returning +a handsome income, that your stocks and bonds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +were safe in the strong box, that the prosperity of your +descendants was assured. Then imagine ruin coming +like lightning in the night. In the morning you are +poor. Your business, your investments, your very +hopes, are gone. Everything is wiped out. The labor +of a lifetime must be begun again.</p> + +<p>Such an experience was that of Baltimore in the fire +of 1904.</p> + +<p>On the sickening morning following the conflagration +two Baltimore men, friends of mine, walked down +Charles Street to a point as near the ruined region as it +was possible to go.</p> + +<p>"Well," said one, surveying the smoking crater, "what +do you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Baltimore is gone," was the response. "We are off +the map."</p> + +<p>How many citizens of Chicago, of San Francisco, of +Galveston, of Dayton have known the anguish of that +first aftermath of hopelessness! How many citizens of +Baltimore knew it that day! And yet how bravely +and with what magic swiftness have these cities risen +from their ruins! Was not Rome burned? Was +not London? And is it not, then, time for men to learn +from the history of other men and other cities that disaster +does not spell the end, but is oftentimes another +name for opportunity?</p> + +<p>Always, after disaster to a city, come improvements, +but because disaster not only cleans the slate but simultaneously +stuns the mind, a portion of the opportunity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +is invariably lost. The task of rebuilding, of widening +a few streets, looks large enough to him who stands +amidst destruction—and there, consequently, improvement +usually stops. That is why the downtown boulevard +system of Chicago has yet to be completed, in spite +of the fact that it might with little difficulty have been +completed after the Chicago fire (although it is only +just to add that city planning was almost an unknown +art in America at that time); and that also is why the +hills of San Francisco are not terraced, as it was suggested +they should be after the fire, but remain to-day +inaccessible to frontal attack by even the maddest mountain +goat of a taxi driver.</p> + +<p>These matters are not mentioned in the way of criticism: +I have only admiration for the devastated cities +and for those who built them up again. I call attention +to lost opportunities with something like reluctance, +and only in the wish to emphasize the fact that our +crippled or destroyed cities do invariably rise again, and +that if the next American city to sustain disaster shall +but have this simple lesson learned in advance, it may +thereby register a new high mark in municipal intelligence +and a new record among the rebuilt cities, by +making more sweet than any other city ever made them, +the uses of adversity.</p> + +<p>The fire of 1904 found Baltimore a town of narrow +highways, old buildings, bad pavements, and open gutter +drains. The streets were laid in what is known as +"southern cobble," which is the next thing to no pave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>ment +at all, being made of irregular stones, large and +small, laid in the dirt and tamped down. For bumps +and ruts there is no pavement in the world to be compared +with it. There were no city sewers. Outside a +few affluent neighborhoods, the citizens of which clubbed +together to build private sewers, the cesspool was in general +use, while domestic drainage emptied into the roadside +gutters. These were made passable, at crossings, +by stepping stones, about the bases of which passed interesting +armadas of potato peelings, floating, upon +wash days, in water having the fine Mediterranean hue +which comes from diluted blueing. Everybody seemed +to find the entire system adequate; for, it was argued, +the hilly contours of the city caused the drainage quickly +to be carried off, while as for typhoid and mosquitoes—well, +there had always been typhoid and mosquitoes, just +as there had always been these open gutters. It was all +quite good enough.</p> + +<p>Then the fire.</p> + +<p>And then the upbuilding of the city—not only of the +acres and acres comprising the burned section, in which +streets were widened and skyscrapers arose where fire-traps +had been—but outside the fire zone, where sewers +were put down and pavements laid. Nor was the change +merely physical. With the old buildings, the old spirit +of <i>laissez faire</i> went up in smoke, and in the embers a +municipal conscience was born. Almost as though by +the light of the flames which engulfed it, the city began +to see itself as it had never seen itself before: to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +take account of stock, to plan broadly for the future.</p> + +<p>Nor has the new-born spirit died. Only last year an +extensive red-light district was closed effectively and +once for all. Baltimore is to-day free from flagrant +commercialized vice. And if not quite all the old cobble +pavements and open-gutter drains have been eliminated, +there are but few of them left—left almost as though for +purposes of contrast—and the Baltimorean who takes +you to the Ghetto and shows you these ancient remnants +may immediately thereafter escort you to the Fallsway, +where the other side of the picture is presented.</p> + +<p>The Fallsway is a brand-new boulevard of pleasing +aspect, the peculiar feature of which is that it is nothing +more or less than a cover over the top of Jones's Falls, +which figured in the early history of Baltimore as a +water course, but which later came to figure as a great, +open, trunk sewer.</p> + +<p>Every one in Baltimore is proud of the Fallsway, but +particularly so are the city engineers who carried the +work through. While in Baltimore I had the pleasure +of meeting one of these gentlemen, and I can assure you +that no young head of a family was ever more delighted +with his new cottage in a suburb, his wife, his children, +his garden, and his collie puppy, than was this engineer +with his boulevard sewer. Like a lover, he carried pictures +of it in his pocket, and like a lover he would assure +you that it was "not like other sewers." Nor could +he speak of it without beginning to wish to take you out +to see it—not merely for a motor ride along the top of it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +either. No, his hospitality did not stop there. When +<i>he</i> invited you to a sewer he invited you <i>in</i>. And if you +went in with him, no one could make you come out until +you wanted to.</p> + +<p>As he told my companion and me of the three great +tubes, the walks beside them, the conduits for gas and +electricity, and all the other wonders of the place, I began +to wish that we might go with him, for, though we +have been to a good many places together, this was +something new: it was the first time we had ever been +invited to drop into a sewer and make ourselves as much +at home as though we lived there.</p> + +<p>My companion, however, seemed unsympathetic to the +project.</p> + +<p>"Sewers, you know," he said, when I taxed him with +indifference, "have come to have a very definite place in +both the literary and the graphic arts. How do you propose +to treat it?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"When you write about it: Are you going to write +about it as a realist, a mystic, or a romanticist?"</p> + +<p>I said I didn't know.</p> + +<p>"Well, a man who is going to write of a sewer <i>ought</i> +to know," he told me severely. "You're not up to +sewers yet. They're too big for you. If you take my +advice you'll keep out of the sewers for the present and +stick to the gutters."</p> + +<p>So I did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /> +<br /> +TERRAPIN AND THINGS</h2> + + +<p>Baltimore society has a Maryland and Virginia +base, but is seasoned with families of +Acadian descent, and with others descended from +the Pennsylvania Dutch—those "Dutch" who, by the +way, are not Dutch at all, being of Saxon and Bavarian +extraction. Many Virginians settled in Baltimore after +the war, and it may be in part owing to this fact, that +fox-hunting with horse and hound, as practised for +three centuries past in England, and for nearly two +centuries by Virginia's country gentlemen, is carried on +extensively in the neighborhood of Baltimore, by the +Green Spring Valley Hunt Club, the Elkridge Fox-Hunting +Club and some others—which brings me to the +subject of clubs in general.</p> + +<p>The Baltimore Country Club, at Roland Park, just +beyond the city limits, has a large, well-set clubhouse, an +active membership, and charming rolling golf links, one +peculiarity of the course being that a part of the city's +water-supply system has been utilized for hazards.</p> + +<p>The two characteristic clubs of the city itself, the +Maryland Club and the Baltimore Club, are known the +country over. The former occupies a position in Baltimore +comparable with that of the Union Club in New<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +York, the Chicago Club in Chicago, or the Pacific Union +in San Francisco, and has to its credit at least one +famous dish: Terrapin, Maryland Club Style.</p> + +<p>The Baltimore Club is used by a younger group of +men and has a particularly pleasant home in a large +mansion, formerly the residence of the Abell family, +long known in connection with that noteworthy old sheet, +the Baltimore "Sun," which, it may be remarked in passing, +is curiously referred to by many Baltimoreans, not +as the "Sun," but as the "Sun-paper."</p> + +<p>This odd item reminds me of another: In the Balti-telephone +book I chanced to notice under the letter "F" +the entry:</p> + +<p>Fisher, Frank, of J.</p> + +<p>Upon inquiry I learned that the significance of this +was that, there being more than one gentleman of the +name of Frank Fisher in the city, this Mr. Frank Fisher +added "of J" to his name (meaning "son of John") for +purposes of differentiation. I was informed further +that this custom is not uncommon in Baltimore, in cases +where a name is duplicated, and I was shown another +example: that of Mr. John Fyfe Symington +of S.</p> + +<p>A typically southern institution of long standing, and +highly characteristic of the social life of Baltimore, is +the Bachelors' Cotillion, one of the oldest dancing clubs +in the country. During the season this organization +gives a series of some half-dozen balls which are the +events of the fashionable year.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>The organization and general character of the Bachelors' +Cotillion is not unlike that of the celebrated St. +Cecilia Society of Charleston. The cost of membership +is so slight that almost any eligible young man +can easily afford it. There is, however, a long waiting-list. +The club is controlled by a board of governors, +the members of which hold office for life, and who, instead +of being elected by the organization are selected +<i>in camera</i> by the board itself, when vacancies occur.</p> + +<p>The balls given by this society are known as the Monday +Germans, and at these balls, which are held in the +Lyric Theater, the city's débutantes are presented to +society. As in all southern cities, much is made of +débutantes in Baltimore. On the occasion of their first +Monday German all their friends send them flowers, +and they appear flower-laden at the ball, followed by +their relatives who are freighted down with their darlings' +superfluous bouquets. The modern steps are +danced at these balls, but there are usually a few cotillion +figures, albeit without "favors." And perhaps the best +part of it all is that the first ball of the season, and the +Christmas ball, end at one o'clock, and that all the others +end at midnight. That seems to me a humane arrangement, +although the opinion may only signify that I am +growing old.</p> + +<p>Another very characteristic phase of Baltimore life, +and of southern life—at least in many cities—is that, +instead of dealing with the baker, and the grocer, and +the fish-market man around the corner, all Baltimore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +women go to the great market-sheds and do their own +selecting under what amounts to one great roof.</p> + +<p>The Lexington Market, to which my companion and +I had the good fortune to be taken by a Baltimore lady, +is comparable, in its picturesqueness with <i>Les Halles</i> of +Paris, or the fascinating market in Seattle, where the +Japanese pile up their fresh vegetables with such charming +show of taste. The great sheds cover three long +blocks, and in the countless stall-like shops which they +contain may be found everything for the table, including +flowers to trim it and after-dinner sweets. I doubt +that any northern housewife knows such a market or +such a profusion of comestibles. In one stall may be +purchased meat, in the next vegetables, in the next fish, +in the next bread and cake, in the next butter and buttermilk, +in the next fruit, or game, or flowers, or—at Christmas +time—tree trimmings. These stalls, with their contents, +are duplicated over and over again; and if your +fair guide be shopping for a dinner party, at which two +men from out of town are to be initiated into the delights +of the Baltimore cuisine, she may order up the +costly and aristocratic <i>Malacoclemmys</i>, the diamond-back +terrapin, sacred in Baltimore as is the Sacred Cod +himself in Boston.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<a name="p48jpg" id="p48jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p48.jpg" width="434" height="469" alt="If she is shopping for a dinner party, she may order the costly and aristocratic +diamond-back terrapin, sacred in Baltimore as is the Sacred Cod in Boston" title="" /> +<span class="caption">If she is shopping for a dinner party, she may order the costly and aristocratic +diamond-back terrapin, sacred in Baltimore as is the Sacred Cod in Boston</span> +</div> + +<p>The admirable encyclopedia of Messrs. Funk & Wagnall's +informs me that "the diamond-back salt-water terrapin ... +is caught in salt marshes along the coast +from New England to Texas, <i>the finest being those of +the Massachusetts and the northern coasts</i>." The italics<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +are mine; and upon the italicized passage I expect the +mayor and town council of Baltimore, or even the +Government of the State of Maryland, to proceed against +Messrs. Funk & Wagnalls, whose valuable volumes +should forthwith be placed upon the State's <i>index expurgatorius</i>.</p> + +<p>Of a marketman I obtained the following lore concerning +the tortoise of the terrapin species:</p> + +<p>In the Baltimore markets four kinds of terrapin are +sold—not counting muskrat, which is sometimes disguised +with sauce and sherry and served as a substitute. +The cheapest and toughest terrapin is known as the +"slider." Slightly superior to the "slider" is the "fat-back," +measuring, usually, about nine or ten inches in +length, and costing, at retail, fifty cents to a dollar, according +to season and demand. Somewhat better than +the "fat-back," but of about the same size and cost, is +the "golden-stripe" terrapin; but all these are the merest +poor relations of the diamond-back. Some diamond-back +terrapin are supplied for the Baltimore market +from North Carolina, but these, my marketman assured +me, are inferior to those of Chesapeake Bay. (Everything +in, or from, North Carolina seems to be inferior, +according to the people of the other Southern States.)</p> + +<p>Although there is a closed season for terrapin, the +value of the diamond-back causes him to be relentlessly +hunted during the open season, with the result that, like +the delectable lobster, he is passing. As the foolish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +lobster-fishermen of northern New England are killing +the goose—or, rather, the crustacean—that lays the +golden eggs, so are the terrapin hunters of the Chesapeake. +Two or three decades ago, lobster and terrapin +alike were eaten in the regions of their abundance as +cheap food. One Baltimore lady told me that her +father's slaves, on an Eastern Shore plantation, used to +eat terrapin. Yet behold the cost of the precious diamond-back +to-day! In his smaller sizes, according to +my marketman, he is worth about a dollar an inch, +while when grown to fair proportions he costs as much +as a railroad ticket from Baltimore to Chicago. And +for my part I would about as soon eat the ticket as the +terrapin.</p> + +<p>Of a number of other odd items which help to give +Baltimore distinct flavor I find the following in my notebooks:</p> + +<p>There are good street railways; also 'bus lines operated +by the United Railways Company. Under the +terms of its charter this company was originally obliged +to turn over to the city thirteen per cent. of its gross income, +to be expended upon the upkeep of parks. Of +late years the amount has been reduced to nine per cent. +The parks are admirable.</p> + +<p>Freight rates from the west to Baltimore are, I am +informed, enough lower than freight rates to New York, +Boston, or Philadelphia, to give Baltimore a decided advantage +as a point of export. Also she is admirably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +situated as to sources of coal supply. (I do not care +much for the last two items, myself, but put them in to +please the Chamber of Commerce.)</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is the habit of my companion and myself, when +visiting strange cities, to ask for interesting eating-places +of one sort or another. In Baltimore there seems +to be no choice but to take meals in hotels—unless one +may wish to go to the Dutch Tea room or the Woman's +Exchange for a shoppers' lunch, and to see (in the latter +establishment) great numbers of ladies sitting upon +tall stools and eating at a lunch-counter—a somewhat +curious spectacle, perhaps, but neither pleasing to the +eye nor thrilling to the senses.</p> + +<p>The nearest thing to "character" which I found in a +Baltimore eating-place was at an establishment known +as Kelly's Oyster House, a place in a dark quarter of the +town. It had the all-night look about it, and the negro +waiters showed themselves not unacquainted with certain +of the city's gilded youth. Kelly's is a sort of +southern version of "Jack's"—if you know Jack's. +But I don't think Jack's has any flight of stairs to fall +down, such as Kelly's has.</p> + +<p>The dining rooms of the various hotels are considerably +used, one judges, by the citizens of Baltimore. The +Kernan Hotel, which we visited one night after the +theater, looked like Broadway. Tables were crowded +together and there was dancing between them—and between +mouthfuls. So, too, at the Belvedere, which is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +used considerably by Baltimore's gay and fashionable +people.</p> + +<p>My companion and I stayed at the Belvedere and +found it a good hotel, albeit one which has, I think, +become a shade too well accustomed to being called +good. Perhaps because of a city ordinance, perhaps +because the waiters want to go to bed, they have a +trick, in the Belvedere dining-room, during the cold +weather, of opening the windows and freezing out such +dilatory supper-guests as would fain sit up and talk. +This is a system even more effective than the ancient +one of mopping up the floors, piling chairs upon the +tables, and turning out enough lights to make the room +dull. A good post-midnight conversationalist—and +Baltimore is not without them—can stand mops, buckets, +and dim lights, but turn cold drafts upon his back and he +gives up, sends for his coat, buttons it about his paunch +and goes sadly home.</p> + +<p>It is fitting that last of all should be mentioned the +man who views you with keen eye as you arrive in +Baltimore, and who watches you depart. If you are in +Baltimore he knows it. And when you go away he +knows that, too. Also, during racing season, he knows +whether you bet, and whether you won or lost. He is +always at the station and always at the race track, and +if you don't belong in Baltimore he is aware of it the +instant he sets eyes upon you, because he knows every +man, woman, child, and dog in Baltimore, and they all +know him. If you are a Baltimorean you are already<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +aware that I refer to the sapient McNeal, policeman at +the Union Station.</p> + +<p>McNeal and Cardinal Gibbons are, I take it, the two +preëminent figures of the city. Their duties, I admit, +are not alike, but each performs his duties with discretion, +with devotion, with distinction. The latter has already +celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of his nomination +as cardinal, but the former is well on the way +toward his fortieth anniversary as officer at the Union +Station.</p> + +<p>McNeal is an artist. He loves his work. And when +his day off comes and he puts on citizen's clothing and +goes out for a good time, where do you suppose he goes?</p> + +<p>Why down to the station, of course, to talk things +over with the man who is relieving him!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /> +<br /> +DOUGHOREGAN MANOR AND THE CARROLLS</h2> + + +<p>If I am to be honest about the South, and about myself—and +I propose to be—I must admit that, +though I approached the fabled land in a most +friendly spirit, I had nevertheless become a little tired +of the southern family tree, the southern ancestral +hall, and the old southern negro servant of stage and +story, and just a little skeptical about them. Almost +unconsciously, at first, I had begun to wonder whether, +instead of being things of actuality, they were not, +rather, a mere set of romantic trade-marks, so to speak; +symbols signifying the South as the butler with side +whiskers signifies English comedy; as "Her" visit to +"His" rooms, in the third act, signifies English drama; +or as double doorways in a paneled "set" signify French +farce.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, it had occurred to me that of persons +of southern accent, or merely southern extraction, +whom I had encountered in the North, a strangely high +percentage were not only of "fine old southern family," +but of peculiarly tenacious purpose in respect to having +the matter understood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>I cannot pretend to say when the "professional Southerner," +as we know him in New York, began to operate, +nor shall I attempt to place the literary blame for his +existence—as Mark Twain attempted to place upon Sir +Walter Scott the blame for southern "chivalry," and +almost for the Civil War itself. Let me merely say, +then, that I should not be surprised to learn that "Colonel +Carter of Cartersville"—that lovable old fraud who +did not mean to be a fraud at all, but whose naïveté +passed the bounds of human credulity—was not far removed +from the bottom of the matter.</p> + +<p>In the tenor of these sentiments my companion shared—though +I should add that he complained bitterly about +agreeing with me, saying that with hats alike, and overcoats +alike, and trunks alike, and suitcases alike, we already +resembled two members of a minstrel troupe, and +that now since we were beginning to think alike, through +traveling so much together, our friends would not +be able to tell us apart when we got home again—in +spite of this he admitted to the same suspicion of the +South as I expressed. Wherefore we entered the region +like a pair of agnostics entering the great beyond: +skeptical, but ready to be "shown."</p> + +<p>It was with the generous purpose of "showing" us +that a Baltimore friend of ours called for us one day +with his motor car and was presently wafting us over +the good oiled roads of Maryland, through sweet, rolling +country, which seemed to have been made to be ridden +over upon horseback.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was autumn, but though the chill of northern +autumn was in the air, the coloring was not so high in +key as in New York or New England, the foliage being +less brilliant, but rich with subtle harmonies of brown +and green, blending softly together as in a faded tapestry, +and giving the landscape an expression of brooding +tenderness.</p> + +<p>After passing through Ellicott City, an old, shambling +town quite out of character with its new-sounding +name, which has such a western ring to it, we traversed +for several miles the old Frederick Turnpike—formerly +a national highway between East and West—swooping +up and down over a series of little hills and vales, and +at length turned off into a private road winding through +a venerable forest, which was like an old Gothic cathedral +with its pavement of brown leaves and its tree-trunk +columns, tall, gray, and slender.</p> + +<p>When we had progressed for perhaps a mile, we +emerged upon a slight eminence commanding a broad +view of meadow and of woodland, and in turn commanded +by a great house.</p> + +<p>The house was of buff-colored brick. It was low and +very long, with wings extending from its central structure +like beautiful arms flung wide in welcome, and at +the end of each a building like an ornament balanced in +an outstretched hand. The graceful central portico, +rising by several easy steps from the driveway level, the +long line of cornice, the window sashes, the delicate +wooden railing surmounting the roof, the charming lit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>tle +tower which so gracefully held its place above the +geometrical center of the house, the bell tower crowning +one wing at its extremity—all these were white.</p> + +<p>No combination of colors can be lovelier, in such a +house, than yellow-buff and white, provided they be +brightened by some notes of green; and these notes were +not lacking, for several aged elms, occupying symmetrical +positions with regard to the house, seemed to gaze +down upon it with the adoration of a group of mothers, +aunts, and grandmothers, as they held their soft draperies +protectively above it. The green of the low terrace—called +a "haha," supposedly with reference to the +mirth-provoking possibilities of an accidental step over +the edge—did not reach the base of the buff walls, but +was lost in a fringe of clustering shrubbery, from which +patches of lustrous English ivy clambered upward over +the brick, to lay strong, mischievous fingers upon the +blinds of certain second-story windows. The blinds +were of course green; green blinds being as necessary +to an American window as eyelashes to an eye.</p> + +<p>Immediately before the portico and centering upon it +the drive swung in a spacious circle, from which there +broke, at a point directly opposite the portico, an avenue, +straight and long as a rifle range, and lovely as +the loveliest of New England village greens. Down the +middle of this broad way, between grass borders each as +wide as a great boulevard, and double rows of patriarchal +trees, ran a road which, in the old days, continued +straight to Annapolis, thirty or more miles away,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +where was the town house of the builder of this manor. +As it stands to-day the avenue is less than half a mile +long, but whatever its length, and whether one look +down it from the house, or up the gentle grade from +the far end, to where the converging lines of grass and +foliage and sky melt into the house, it has about it something +of unreality, something of enchantment, something +of that quality one finds in the rhapsodic landscapes of +those poet painters who dream of distant shimmering +palaces and supernal vistas peopled by fauns and nymphs +dancing amid the trunks of giant trees whose luxuriant +dark tops are contoured like the cumulus white clouds +floating above them.</p> + +<p>There is nothing "baronial," nothing arrogant, about +Doughoregan Manor, for though the house is noble, its +nobility, consisting in spaciousness, simplicity, and grace +combined with age, fits well into what, it seems to me, +should be the architectural ideals of a republic. No +house could be freer of unessential embellishment; in detail +it is plain almost to severity; yet the full impression +that it gives, far from being austere, is of friendliness +and hospitality. An approachable sort of house, a +"homelike" house, it is perhaps less "imposing" than +some other mansions, coeval with it, in Virginia, in +Annapolis, and in Charleston; and yet it is as impressive, +in its own way, as Warwick Castle, or Hurstmonceaux, +or Loches, or Chinon, or Chenonceaux, or Heidelberg—not +that it is so vast, that it has glowering battlements, +or that it stuns the eye, but for precisely opposite rea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>sons: +because it is a consummate expression of republican +cultivation, of a fine old American home, and of +the fine old American gentleman who built it, and whose +descendants inhabit it to-day: Charles Carroll of Carrollton, +last to survive of those who signed the Declaration +of Independence.</p> + +<p>The first Charles Carroll, known in the family as "the +Settler," came from Ireland in 1688, and became a great +landowner in Maryland. He was a highly educated +gentleman and a Roman Catholic, as have also been his +descendants. He acted as agent for Lord Baltimore.</p> + +<p>His son, Charles Carroll of Annapolis, or "Breakneck +Carroll" (so called because he was killed by a fall +from the steps of his house), built the Carroll mansion +at Annapolis, now the property of the Redemptionist +Order.</p> + +<p>The third and most famous member of the family +was Charles Carroll of Carrollton, "the Signer," builder +of the manor house at Doughoregan—which, by the +way, derives its name from a combination of the old +Irish words <i>dough</i>, meaning "house" or "court," and +<i>O'Ragan</i>, meaning "of the King"; the whole being pronounced, +as with a slight brogue, "Doo-ray-gan," the accent +falling on the middle syllable—this Charles Carroll, +"the Signer," most famous of his line, was "Breakneck's" +only son. When eight years old he was sent to +France to be educated by the Jesuits. He spent six +years at Saint-Omer, one at Rheims, two at the College +of Louis le Grand, one at Bourges, where he studied civil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +law, and after some further time in college in Paris went +to London, entered the Middle Temple and there worked +at the common law until his return to Maryland in 1765.</p> + +<p>Although Maryland was founded by the Roman Catholic +Baron Baltimore on a basis of religious toleration, +the Church of England had later come to be the established +church in the British colonies in America, and +Roman Catholics were unjustly used, being disfranchised, +taxed for the support of the English Church, and +denied the right to establish schools or churches of their +own, to celebrate the Mass, or to bear arms—the bearing +of arms having been "at that time the insignia of social +position and gentle breeding."</p> + +<p>Finding this situation well-nigh intolerable, Carroll +of Carrollton, already a man of great wealth, joined +with his cousin, Father John Carroll, who later became +first Archbishop of Baltimore (for many years +the only Roman Catholic diocese in the United States, +embracing all States and Territories), in an appeal to +the King of France for a grant of land in what is now +Arkansas, but was then a part of Louisiana, this land +to be used as a refuge for Roman Catholics and Jesuits, +whom the Carrolls proposed to lead thither precisely as +Cecilius Calvert, Lord Baltimore, had led them to Maryland +to escape persecution.</p> + +<p>The Roman Catholics were not, however, by this time +the only American colonists who felt themselves abused; +the whole country was chafing, and the seeds of revolution +were beginning to show their red sprouts.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>It might have been expected that Mr. Carroll, being +the richest man in the country, would hesitate at rebellion, +but he did not. Unlike some of our present-day +citizens of foreign extraction, and in circumstances involving +not merely sentiment, but property and perhaps +life, he showed no tendency to split his Americanism, but +boldly threw his noble old cocked hat into the ring. Nor +did he require a Roosevelt to make his duty clear to him.</p> + +<p>In 1775 Mr. Carroll was a delegate to the Revolutionary +Convention of Maryland; in 1776 he went with +three other commissioners (Benjamin Franklin, Samuel +Chase, and Father John Carroll) to try to induce the +Canadian colonies to join in the revolt; and soon after +his return from this unsuccessful journey he signed the +Declaration of Independence. Of the circumstances of +the signing the late Robert C. Winthrop of Boston gave +the following description:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Will you sign?" said Hancock to Charles Carroll.</p> + +<p>"Most willingly," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"There goes two millions with the dash of a pen," says one of +those standing by; while another remarks: "Oh, Carroll, you will +get off, there are so many Charles Carrolls."</p> + +<p>And then we may see him stepping back to the desk and putting +that addition "of Carrollton" to his name, which will designate +him forever, and be a prouder title of nobility than those in the +peerage of Great Britain, which were afterward adorned by his +accomplished and fascinating granddaughters.</p></div> + +<p>Some doubt has been cast upon this tale by the fact +that papers in possession of the Carroll family prove +that Mr. Carroll was wont to sign as "of Carrollton"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +long before the Declaration. Further, it is recorded +that John H. B. Latrobe, Mr. Carroll's contemporaneous +biographer, never heard the story from the subject of his +writings.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I believe that it is true, for it seems to +me likely that though Mr. Carroll used the subscription +"of Carrollton" in conducting his affairs at home, +where there was chance for confusion between his son +Charles, his cousin Charles, and himself, he might well +have been inclined to omit it from a public document, as +to the signers of which there could be no confusion. +Further, the fact that he never told the story to Latrobe +does not invalidate it, for as every man (and every +man's wife) knows, men do not remember to tell everything +to their wives, and it is still less likely that +they tell everything to their biographers. Further still, +Mr. Winthrop visited Mr. Carroll just before the latter's +death, and as he certainly did not invent the story +it seems probable that he got it from "the Signer" himself. +Last, I like the story and intend to believe it anyway—which, +it occurs to me, is the best reason of all, and +the one most resembling my reason for being more or +less Episcopalian and Republican.</p> + +<p>Latrobe tells us that Mr. Carroll was, in his old age, +"a small, attenuated old man, with a prominent nose and +somewhat receding chin, and small eyes that sparkled +when he was interested in conversation. His head was +small and his hair white, rather long and silky, while +his face and forehead were seamed with wrinkles."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>From the same source, and others, we glean the information +that he was a charming and courteous gentleman, +that he practised early rising and early retiring, +was regular at meals, and at morning and evening prayer +in the chapel, that he took cold baths and rode horseback, +and that for several hours each day he read the +Greek, Latin, English, or French classics.</p> + +<p>At the age of eighty-three he rode a horse in a procession +in Baltimore, carrying in one hand a copy of the +Declaration of Independence; and six years later, when +by that strange freak of chance ex-Presidents Adams +and Jefferson died simultaneously on July 4, leaving Mr. +Carroll the last surviving signer of the Declaration, he +took part in a memorial parade and service in their +memory. In 1826, at the age of eighty-nine, he was +elected a director of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad +Company, and at the age of ninety he laid the foundation +stone marking the commencement of that railroad—the +first important one in the United States. +We are told that at this time Mr. Carroll was erect in +carriage and that he could see and hear as well as most +men. In 1832, having lived to within five years of a +full century, having been active in the Revolution, having +seen the War of 1812, he died less than thirty years before +the outbreak of the Civil War, and was buried in +the chapel of the manor house.</p> + +<p>This chapel, the like of which does not, so far as I +know, exist in any other American house, is the burial +place of a number of the Carrolls. It is used to-day,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +regular Sunday services being held for the people of the +neighborhood. An alcove to the south of the chancel +contains seats for members of the family, and has access +to the main portion of the house by a passageway which +passes the bedroom known as the Cardinal's room, a +large chamber furnished with massive old pieces of mahogany +and decorated in red. This room has been occupied +by Lafayette, by John Carroll, cousin of "the +Signer" and first archbishop of Baltimore, and by Cardinal +Gibbons. It is on the ground floor and its windows +command the series of terraces, with their plantings +of old box, which slope away to gardens more than +a century old.</p> + +<p>Viewed in one light Doughoregan Manor is a monument, +in another it is a treasure house of ancient portraits +and furniture and silver, but above all it is a home. +The beautifully proportioned dining-room, the wide hall +which passes through the house from the front portico +to another overlooking the terraces and gardens at the +back, the old shadowy library with its tree-calf bindings, +the sunny breakfast room, the spacious bedchambers +with their four-posters and their cheerful chintzes, +the big bright shiny pantries and kitchens, all have that +pleasant, easy air which comes of being lived in, and +which is never attained in a "show place" which is +merely a "show place" and nothing more. No dining +table at which great personages have dined in the past +has the charm of one the use of which has been steadily +continued; no old chair but is better for being sat in; no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +ancient Sheffield tea service but gains immeasurably in +charm from being used for tea to-day; no old Venetian +mirror but what is lovelier for reflecting the beauties of +the present as it reflected those of the past; no little old-time +crib but what is better for a modern baby in it. It +is pleasant, therefore, to report that, like all other things +the house contains, the crib at Doughoregan Manor was +being used when we were there, for in it rested the baby +son of the house; by name Charles, and of his line the +ninth. Further, it may be observed that from his +youthful parents, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bancroft Carroll, +present master and mistress of the place, Master +Charles seemed to have inherited certain amiable traits. +Indeed, in some respects, he outdoes his parents. For +example, where the father and mother were cordial, the +son chewed ruminatively upon his fingers and fastened +upon my companion a gaze not merely interested, +but expressive of enraptured astonishment. Likewise, +though his parents received us kindly, they did not crow +and gurgle with delight; and though, on our departure, +they said that we might come again, they neither waved +their hands nor yet blew bubbles.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p65jpg" id="p65jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p65.jpg" width="600" height="335" alt="Doughoregan Manor—The house was of buff-colored brick. It was low and very long, with wings extending from +its central structure like beautiful arms flung wide in welcome" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Doughoregan Manor—The house was of buff-colored brick. It was low and very long, with wings extending from +its central structure like beautiful arms flung wide in welcome</span> +</div> + +<p>Though the house has been "done over" four times, +and though the paneling was torn out of one room +to make way for wall paper when wall paper came into +style, everything has now been restored, and the place +stands to-day to all intents and purposes exactly as it +was. That so few changes were ever made in it, that it +weathered successfully, with its contents, the disastrous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +period of Eastlake furniture and the American mansard +roof, is a great credit to the Carroll family, and it is delightful +to see such a house in the possession of those +who can love it as it deserves to be loved, and preserve +it as it deserves to be preserved.</p> + +<p>Mr. Charles Bancroft Carroll, who is a graduate of +Annapolis and a grandson of the late Governor John Lee +Carroll of Maryland, now farms some twenty-four hundred +acres of the five or six thousand which surround the +manor house. He raises blooded cattle and horses, and, +though he rides with the Elkridge Hunt, also keeps his +own pack and is starting the Howard County Hounds, +an organization that will hunt the country around the +manor, which is full of foxes.</p> + +<p>Of the innumerable family portraits contained in the +house not a few are valuable and almost all are pleasing. +When I remarked upon the high average of good looks +among his progenitors, Mr. Carroll smiled in agreement, +saying: "Yes, I'm proud of these pictures of my +ancestors; most people's ancestors seem to have looked +like the dickens."</p> + +<p>Among these noteworthy family portraits I recollect +one of "the Signer" as a boy, standing on the shore and +watching a ship sail out to sea; one of the three beautiful +Caton sisters, his granddaughters, who lived at +Brooklandwood, in the Green Spring Valley, now the +home of Mr. Isaac Emerson; one of Charles Carroll of +Homewood, son of "the Signer"; and one of Governor +John Lee Carroll, who was born at Homewood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Caton sisters and Charles Carroll of Homewood +supply to the Carroll family archives that picturesqueness +which the history of every old family should possess; +the former contributing beauty, the latter dash and +extravagance, those qualities so annoying in a living +relative, but so delightfully suggestive in an ancestor +long defunct. If anything more be needed to round out +the composition, it is furnished by the ghosts of Doughoregan +Manor: an old housekeeper with jingling keys, +and an invisible coach, the wheels of which are heard +upon the driveway before the death of any member of +the family.</p> + +<p>Of the Caton sisters there were four, but because one +of them, Mrs. McTavish, stayed at home and made the +life of her grandfather happy, we do not hear so much of +her as of the other three, who were internationally +famous for their pulchritude, and were known in England +as "the Three American Graces." All three married +British peers, one becoming Marchioness of Wellesley, +another Duchess of Leeds, while the third became +the wife of Lord Stafford, one of the noblemen embalmed +in verse by Fitz-Greene Halleck:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Stafford mines for coal and salt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Duke of Norfolk deals in malt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Douglas in red herrings.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>As for Charles Carroll of Homewood, he was handsome, +charming, and athletic, and, as indicated in letters +written to him by his father, caused that old gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>man +a good deal of anxiety. It is said that at one time—perhaps +during some period of estrangment from his +wealthy parent—he acted as a fencing master in Baltimore.</p> + +<p>At the age of twenty-five he settled down—or let us +hope he did—for he married Harriet Chew, whose sister +"Peggy," Mrs. John Eager Howard of Baltimore, was a +celebrated belle, and of whose own charm we may judge +by the fact that General Washington asked her to remain +in the room while he sat to Gilbert Stuart, declaring that +her presence there would cause his countenance to "wear +its most agreeable expression." The famous portrait +painted under these felicitous conditions hung in the +White House when, in 1814, the British marched on +Washington; but when they took the city and burned the +White House, the portrait did not perish with it, +for history records that Dolly Madison carried it to +safety, and along with it the original draft of the Declaration +of Independence.</p> + +<p>Charles Carroll of Homewood died before his father, +"the Signer," but the house, Homewood, which the latter +built for his son and daughter-in-law in 1809, stands +to-day near the Baltimore city limits, at the side of +Charles Street Boulevard, amid pleasant modern houses, +many of which are of a design not out of harmony with +the old mansion. Though not comparable in size with +the manor house at Doughoregan, Homewood is an even +more perfect house, being one of the finest examples of +Georgian architecture to be found in the entire country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +The fate of this house is hardly less fortunate than that +of the paternal manor, for, with its surrounding lands, it +has come into the possession of Johns Hopkins University. +The fields of Homewood now form the campus +and grounds of that excellent seat of learning, and the +trustees of the university have not merely preserved +the residence, using it as a faculty club, but have had the +inspiration to find in it the architectural motif for the entire +group of new college buildings, so that the campus +may be likened to a bracelet wrought as a setting for +this jewel of a house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /> +<br /> +A RARE OLD TOWN</h2> + + +<p>The drive from Baltimore to the sweet, slumbering +city of Annapolis is over a good road, but +through barren country. Taken in the crisp +days of autumn, by a northern visitor sufficiently misguided +to have supposed that beyond Mason and +Dixon's Line the winters are tropical it may prove an +uncomfortable drive—unless he be able to borrow a +fur overcoat. It was on this drive that my disillusionment +concerning the fall and winter climate of the South +began, for, wearing two cloth overcoats, one over the +other, I yet suffered agonies from cold. The sun shone +down upon the open automobile in which we tore along, +but its rays were no competitors for the biting wind. +Through lap robes, cloth caps, and successive layers of +clothing, and around the edges of goggles, fine little +frozen fangs found their way, like the pliable beaks of a +race of gigantic, fabulous mosquitoes from the Arctic +regions. I have driven an open car over the New England +snows for miles in zero weather, and been warm +by comparison, because I was prepared.</p> + +<p>My former erroneous ideas as to the southern climate +may be shared by others, and it is therefore well, per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>haps, +to enlarge a little bit upon the subject. Never, +except during a winter passed in a stone tile-floored villa +on the island of Capri, whither I went to escape the cold, +have I been so conscious of it, as during fall, winter, and +spring in the South.</p> + +<p>In the hotels of the South one may keep warm in cold +weather, but in private homes it is not always possible +to do so, for the popular illusion that the "sunny South" +is of a uniformly temperate climate in the winter persists +nowhere more violently than in the South itself. +Many a house in Virginia, let alone the other States farther +down the map, is without a furnace, and winter life +in such houses, with their ineffectual wood fires, is like +life in a refrigerator tempered by the glow of a safety +match. As in Italy and Spain, so in the South it is often +warmer outdoors than in; more than once during my +southern voyage I was tempted to resume the habit, acquired +in Capri, of wearing an overcoat in the house and +taking it off on going out into the sunshine. True, in +Capri we had roses blooming in the garden on Christmas +Day, but that circumstance, far from proving warmth, +merely proved the hardiness of roses. So, in the far +South—excepting Florida and perhaps a strip of the +Gulf Coast of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama—the +blooming of flowers in the winter does not prove that +"Palm Beach suits" and panama hats invariably make a +desirable uniform.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, I am inclined to believe that because +some southern winter days are warm and others cold, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +Northerner feels cold in the South more than he feels +the corresponding temperature at home—on somewhat +the principle which caused the Italians who went with +the Duke of the Abruzzi on his polar expedition to withstand +cold more successfully than did the Scandinavians.</p> + +<p>Of the southern summer I have no experience, but I +have been repeatedly assured that certain of the southern +beaches are nearly, if not quite, as comfortable in hot +weather as are those of New Jersey or Long Island, +while in numerous southern mountain retreats one may +be fairly cool through the hot months—a fact which +spells fortune for the hotel keepers of such high-perched +resorts as Asheville, White Sulphur Springs, and the +Hot Springs of Virginia, who have their houses full of +Northerners in winter and Southerners in summer.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The experience of arrival in Annapolis, delightful in +any weather and at any time of year, gives one a satisfaction +almost ecstatic after a cold, windy automobile +ride such as we had suffered. To ache for the shelter of +almost any town, or any sort of building, and, with such +yearnings, to arrive in this dreamy city, whose mild air +seems to be compounded from fresh winds off a glittering +blue sea, arrested by the barricade of ancient hospitable-looking +houses, warmed by the glow of their sun-baked +red brick, and freighted with a ghostly fragrance, +as from the phantoms of the rose gardens of a century +or two ago—to arrive, frigid and forlorn in such a haven,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +to drink a cup of tea in the old Paca house (now a hotel), +is to experience heaven after purgatory. For there is +no town that I know whose very house fronts hold out +to the stranger that warm, old-fashioned welcome that +Annapolis seems to give.</p> + +<p>The Paca house, which as a hotel has acquired the +name Carvel Hall, is the house that Winston Churchill +had in mind as the Manners house, of his novel "Richard +Carvel." A good idea of the house, as it was, may be +obtained by visiting the Brice house, next door, for the +two are almost twins. When Mr. Churchill was a cadet +at Annapolis, before the modern part of the Carvel Hall +hotel was built, there were the remains of terraced gardens +back of the old mansion, stepping down to an old +spring house, and a rivulet which flowed through the +grounds was full of watercress. The book describes a +party at the house and in these gardens. The Chase +house on Maryland Avenue was the one Mr. Churchill +thought of as the home of Lionel Carvel, and he described +the view from upper windows of this house, over +the Harwood house, across the way, to the Severn.</p> + +<p>Annapolis, Baedeker tells me, was the first chartered +city in the United States, having been granted its charter +by Queen Anne considerably more than two centuries +ago. It is, as every little boy and girl should know, the +capital of Maryland, and is built around a little hill upon +the top of which stands the old State House in which +Washington surrendered his commission and in which +met the first Constitutional Convention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>In its prime Annapolis was nearly as large a city as it +is to-day, but that is not saying a great deal, for at the +present time it has not so many inhabitants as Amarillo, +Texas, or Brazil, Indiana.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the life of Annapolis in colonial days, +and in the days which followed them, was very brilliant, +and we learn from the diary of General Washington and +from the writings of amazed Englishmen and Frenchmen +who visited the city in its period of glory that there +were dinners and balls night after night, that the theater +was encouraged in Annapolis more than in any other +city, that the race meets compared with English race +meets both as to the quality of the horses and of the +fashionable attendance, that there were sixteen clubs, +that the women of the city were beautiful, charming, and +superbly dressed, that slaves in sumptuous liveries were +to be seen about the streets, that certain gentlemen paid +calls in barges which were rowed by half a dozen or +more blacks, in uniform, and that the perpetual hospitality +of the great houses was gorgeous and extravagant.</p> + +<p>The houses hint of these things. If you have seen the +best old brick mansions of New England, and will +imagine them more beautifully proportioned, set off by +balancing wings and having infinitely finer details as to +doorways, windows, porticos, and also as to wood carvings +and fixtures within—as, for instance, the beautiful +silver latches and hinges of the Chase house at Annapolis—you +will gather something of the flavor of these +old Southern homes. For though such venerable man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>sions +as the Chase, Paca, Brice, Hammond, Ridout, and +Bordley houses, in Annapolis, are not without family +resemblance to the best New England colonial houses, +the resemblance is of a kind to emphasize the differences, +not only between the mansions of the North and +South, but between the builders of them. The contrast +is subtle, but marked.</p> + +<p>Your New England house, beautiful as it is, is stamped +with austere simplicity. The man who built it was +probably a scholar but he was almost certainly a Calvinist. +He habited himself in black and was served by +serving maids, instead of slaves in livery. If a woman +was not flat-chested and forlorn, he was prone to regard +her as the devil masquerading for the downfall +of man—and no doubt with some justice, too. Night +and morning he presided at family prayers, the purpose +of which was to impress upon his family and servants +that to have a good time was wicked, and that to be gay +in this life meant hell-fire and damnation in the next.</p> + +<p>Upon this pious person his cousin of Annapolis looked +with something not unlike contempt; for the latter, +though he too was a scholar, possessed the sort of +scholarliness which takes into account beauty and the +lore of cosmopolitanism. He may have been religious +or he may not have been, but if religious he demanded +something handsome, something stylish, in his religion, +as he did also in his residence, in his wife, his sons, his +daughters, his horses, coaches, dinners, wines, and +slaves. He did things with a flourish, and was not be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>set +by a perpetual consciousness and fear of hell. He +approved of pretty women; he made love to them; he +married them; he was the father of them. His pretty +daughters married men who also admired pretty women, +and became the mothers of other pretty women, who +became, in turn, the mothers and grandmothers of the +pretty women of the South to-day.</p> + +<p>Your old-time Annapolis gentleman's ideas of a republic +were far indeed from those now current, for he +understood perfectly the difference between a republic +and a democracy—a difference which is not now so well +understood. He believed that the people should elect +the heads of the government, but he also believed that +these heads should be elected from his own class, and +that, having voted, the people should go about their business, +trusting their betters to run the country as it should +be run.</p> + +<p>This, at least, is my picture of the old aristocrats of +Maryland, Virginia, and South Carolina, as conveyed to +me by what I have seen of their houses and possessions +and what I have read of their mode of life. They were +the early princes of the Republic and by all odds its +most picturesque figures.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Very different from the spirit of appreciation and +emulation shown by the trustees of Johns Hopkins University +with regard to the old house, Homewood, in +Baltimore, is that manifested in the architecture of the +Naval Academy at Annapolis, where, in a city fairly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +flooded with examples of buildings, both beautiful and +typically American, architectural hints were ignored, +and there were erected great stone structures whose +chief characteristics are size, solidity, and the look of +being "government property." The main buildings of +the Academy, with the exception of the chapel, suggest +the sort of sublimated penitentiary that Mr. Thomas +Mott Osborne might, one fancies, construct under a +carte-blanche authorization, while the chapel, the huge +dome of which is visible to all the country round, makes +one think of a monstrous wedding cake fashioned in the +form of a building and covered with white and yellow +frosting in ornamental patterns.</p> + +<p>This chapel, one imagines, may have been inspired by +the Invalides in Paris, but of the Invalides it falls far +short. I know nothing of the history of the building, +but it is easy to believe that the original intention may +have been to place at the center of it, under the dome, a +great well, over the parapet of which might have been +seen the sarcophagus of John Paul Jones, in the crypt. +One prefers to think that the architect had some such +plan; for the crypt, as at present arranged, is hardly +more than a dark cellar, approached by what seems to +be a flight of humble back stairs. To descend into it, +and find there the great marble coffin with its bronze +dolphins, is not unlike going down into the cellar of a +residence and there discovering the family silver reposing +in the coal-bin.</p> + +<p>In this connection it is interesting to recall the fact<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +that our sometimes piratical and always brilliant Revolutionary +naval hero died in Paris, and that until a few +years ago his resting place was unknown. The reader +will remember that while General Horace Porter was +American ambassador to France a search was instituted +for the remains of John Paul Jones, the greater +part of the work having been conducted by Colonel H. +Baily Blanchard, then first secretary of the Embassy, +assisted by the ambassador and Mr. Henry Vignaud, +dean of secretaries of embassy. The resting place of +Jones was finally discovered in an abandoned cemetery +in the city of Paris, over which houses had been built. +The body was contained in a leaden casket and was preserved +in alcohol so that identification was easily accomplished +by means of a contemporaneous likeness of +Jones, and also by means of measurements taken from +Houdin's bust. The remains were accorded military +honors in Paris, and were brought to this country on a +war vessel.</p> + +<p>Why the crypt at Annapolis is as it is, I do not know, +but in my own purely imaginary picture of what happened, +I see the architect's plans for a heroic display of +Jones's tomb knocked on the head by some "practical +man," some worthy dunce in the Navy Department, +whom I can imagine as protesting: "But no! We +can't take up space at the center of the chapel for any +such purpose. It must be floored over to make room for +pews. Otherwise where will the cadets sit?"</p> + +<p>So, although the grounds of the academy, with their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +lawns, and aged trees, and squirrels, and cadets, are +charming, and although the solemn and industrious +Baedeker assures me that the academy is the "chief lion" +of Annapolis, and although I know that it is a great +school, and that we need another like it in order properly +to officer our navy, I prefer the old town with its old +houses, and old streets bearing such reminiscent names +as Hanover, Prince George, and Duke of Gloucester.</p> + +<p>For certain slang expressions used by cadets I am indebted +to a member of the corps. From this admiral-to-be +I learn that a "bird" or "wazzo" is a man or boy; +that a "pap sheet" is a report covering delinquencies, +and that to "hit the pap" is to be reported for delinquency; +that "steam" is marine engineering, and to be +"bilged for juice" is to fail in examinations in electrical +engineering—to get an "unsat," or unsatisfactory mark, +or even a "zip" or "swabo," which is a zero. Cadets do +not escort girls to dances, but "drag" them; a girl is a +"drag," and a "heavy drag" or "brick" is an unattractive +girl who must be taken to a dance. A "sleuth" or +"jimmylegs" is a night watchman, and to be "ragged" is +to be caught. Mess-hall waiters are sometimes called +"mokes," while at other times the names of certain exalted +dignitaries of the Navy Department, or of the +academy, are applied to them.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I shall never cease to regret that dread of the cold kept +us from seeing ancient Whitehall, a few miles from Annapolis, +which was the residence of Governor Horatio<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +Sharpe, and is one of the finest of historic American +homes; nor shall I, on the other hand, ever cease to +rejoice that, in spite of cold we did, upon another day, +visit Hampton, the rare old mansion of the Ridgelys, of +Maryland, which stands amid its own five thousand acres +some dozen miles or so to the north of Baltimore. The +Ridgelys were, it appears, the great Protestant land +barons of this region as the Carrolls were the great +Catholics, and, like the Carrolls, they remain to-day the +proprietors of a vast estate and an incomparable house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /> +<br /> +WE MEET THE HAMPTON GHOST</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the ill spirit have so fair a house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good things will strive to dwell with 't.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—The Tempest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Hampton is probably the largest of Maryland's +old mansions, and the beauty of it is more +theatrical than the beauty of Doughoregan +Manor; for although the latter is the older of the two, +the former is not only spectacular by reason of its +spaciousness, the delicacy of its architectural details, and +the splendor of its dreamlike terraced gardens, but also +for a look of beautiful, dignified, yet somehow tragic +age—a look which makes one think of a wonderful old +lady; a belle of the days of minuets and powdered wigs +and patches; a woman no less wonderful in her declining +years than in her youth, but wonderful in another way; +a proud old aristocrat, erect and spirited to the last; +her bedchamber a storehouse of ivory lace and ancient +jewelry, her memory a storehouse of recollections, like +chapters from romantic novels of the days when all men +were gallant, and all women beautiful: recollections of +journeys made in the old coach, which is still in the +stable, though its outriders have been buried in the +slaves' burying ground these many years; recollections<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +of the opening of Hampton, when, as the story goes, +gay Captain Charles Ridgely, builder of the house, held a +card party in the attic to celebrate the event, while his +wife, Rebecca Dorsey Ridgely, a lady of religious turn, +marked the occasion simultaneously with a prayer-meeting +in the drawing room; of the ball given by the +Ridgelys in honor of Charles Carroll's granddaughters, +the exquisite Caton sisters; of hunt meets here, long, +long ago, and hunt balls which succeeded them; of +breakneck rides; of love-making in that garden peopled +with the ghosts of more than a century of lovers; of duels +fought at dawn. Of such vague, thrilling tales the old +house seems to whisper.</p> + +<p>Never, from the moment we turned into the tree-lined +avenue, leading to Hampton, from the moment when I +saw the fox hounds rise resentfully out of beds which +they had dug in drifts of oak leaves in the drive, from +the moment when I stood beneath the stately portico and +heard the bars of the shuttered doors being flung back +for our admittance—never, from my first glimpse of the +place, have I been able to dispel the sense of unreality I +felt while there, and which makes me feel, now, that +Hampton is not a house that I have seen, but one built +by my imagination in the course of a particularly charming +and convincing dream.</p> + +<p>Stained glass windows bearing the Ridgely coat of +arms flank the front doorway, and likewise the opposing +doorway at the end of the enormous hall upon which one +enters, and the light from these windows gives the hall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +a subdued yet glowing illumination, so that there is +something spectral about the old chairs and the old portraits +with which the walls are solidly covered. There +are portraits here by Gilbert Stuart and other distinguished +painters of times gone by, and I particularly +remember one large canvas showing a beautiful young +woman in evening dress, her hair hanging in curls beside +her cheeks, her tapering fingers touching the strings +of a harp. She was young then; yet the portrait is that +of the great-grandmother, or great-great-grandmother, +of present Ridgelys, and she has lain long in the brick-walled +family burying ground below the garden. But +there beneath the portrait stands the harp on which she +played.</p> + +<p>One might tell endlessly of paneling, of the delicate +carving of mantels and overmantels, of chairs, tables, +desks, and sofas of Chippendale, Hepplewhite, Phyfe +and Sheraton, yet giving such an inventory one might +fail utterly to suggest the feeling of that great house, +with its sense of homelike emptiness, its wealth of old +furniture and portraits, blending together, in the dim +light of a late October afternoon, to form shadowy +backgrounds for autumnal reverie, or for silent, solitary +listening—listening to the tales told by the soughing +wind outside, to the whisper of embers in the fireplace, +the slow somber tick of the tall clock telling of ages past +and passing, the ghostly murmur of the old house talking +softly to itself.</p> + +<p>From the windows of the great dining-room one looks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +away toward Hampton Gate, a favorite meeting place +for the Elkridge Hunt, or, at another angle, toward the +stables where the hunters are kept, the old slave cabins, +and the overseer's house, with its bell tower—a house +nearly two hundred years old. But the library is perhaps +the more natural resting place for the guest, and +it looks out over the garden, with its enormous descending +terraces, its geometrical walks and steps, its beautiful +old trees, and arbors of ancient box. Such terraces +as these were never built by paid labor.</p> + +<p>We were given tea in the library, our hostess at this +function being a young lady of five or six years—a +granddaughter of Captain John Ridgely, present master +of Hampton—who, with her pink cheeks, her serious +eyes and demeanor, looked like a canvas by Sir Joshua +come to life, as she sat in a large chair and ate a large +red apple.</p> + +<p>Nor did Bryan, Captain Ridgely's negro butler, fit +less admirably into the pervasive atmosphere of fiction +which enveloped the place. In the absence of his master, +Bryan did the honors of the old house with a style which +was not "put on," because it did not have to be put on—nature +and a good bringing-up having supplied all needs +in this respect. There was about him none of that +affectation of being a graven image, which one so often +notices in white butlers and footmen imported from Europe +by rich Americans, and which, of all shams, is one +of the most false and absurd, as carried out on both +sides—for we pretend to think these functionaries the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +deft mechanisms, incapable of thought, that they pretend +to be; yet all the time we know—and they know we +know—that they see and hear and think as we do, and +that, moreover, they are often enough observant cynics +whose elaborate gentility is assumed for hire, like the +signboard of a sandwich man.</p> + +<p>Bryan was without these artificial graces. His manner, +in showing us the house, in telling us about the various +portraits, indicated some true appreciation of the +place and of its contents; and the air he wore of natural +dignity and courtesy—of being at once acting-host and +servitor—constituted as graceful a performance in a not +altogether easy rôle as I have ever seen, and satisfied me, +once for all, as to the verity of legends concerning the +admirable qualities of old-time negro servants in the +South.</p> + +<p>After tea, when fading twilight had deepened the +shadows in the house, we went up the stairway, past the +landing with its window containing the armorial bearings +of the family in stained glass, and, achieving the +upper hall, crossed to a great bedchamber, the principal +guest room, and paused just inside the door.</p> + +<p>And now, because of what I am about to relate, I +shall give the names of those who were present. We +were: Dr. Murray P. Brush, A. B., Ph.D., acting Dean +of Johns Hopkins University; Dr. John McF. Bergland +of Baltimore; my companion, Wallace Morgan, illustrator; +and myself.</p> + +<p>The light had, by this time, melted to a mere faint<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +grayness sifting like mist through the many oblong +panes of several large windows. Nevertheless I could +discern that it was a spacious room, and from the +color of it and certain shadowy lines upon the walls, I +judged that it was paneled to the ceiling in white-painted +wood. I am under the impression that it contained a +fireplace, and that the great four-post bed, standing to +the right of the doorway, was placed upon a low platform, +a step or two above the floor—though of this I +am not quite certain, the bulk of the bed and the dim +light having, perhaps, deceived me. The rest of the +furniture in the room was dark in color, and massed in +heavy vague spots against the lighter background of +the walls.</p> + +<p>Directly before the door, at about the center of the +wall against which it was backed, stood something which +loomed tall and dark, and which I took to be either a +gigantic clothespress or a closet built into the room. +Looking past the front of this obstruction, I saw one of +the windows; the piece of furniture was therefore exhibited +sidewise, in silhouette.</p> + +<p>I do not think that I had definitely thought of ghost +stories before, and I know that ghosts had not been +spoken of, but as I looked into this room, and reflected +on the long series of persons who had occupied it, and on +where they were now, and on all the stories that the +room must have heard, there entered my mind thoughts +of the supernatural.</p> + +<p>Having taken a step or two into the room, I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +a little in advance of my three friends, and as these +fancies came strongly to me, I spoke over my shoulder +to one of them, who was at my right and a little behind +me, saying, half playfully:</p> + +<p>"There ought to be ghosts in a room like this."</p> + +<p>Hardly had I spoken when without a sound, and +swinging very slowly, the door of the large piece of +furniture before me gently opened. My first idea was +that the thing must be a closet, built against the wall, +with a door at the back opening on a passageway, or +into the next room, and that the little girl whom we had +met downstairs had opened it from the other side and +was coming in.</p> + +<p>I fully expected to see her enter. But she did not +enter, for, as I learned presently, she was in the nursery +at the time.</p> + +<p>After waiting for an instant to see who was coming, +I began to realize that there was no one coming; that no +one had opened the door; that, like an actor picking up a +cue, the door had begun to swing immediately upon my +saying the word "ghosts."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 465px;"> +<a name="p80jpg" id="p80jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p80.jpg" width="465" height="600" alt="I began to realize that there was no one coming; that no one had opened the door; +that it had begun to swing immediately upon my saying the word "ghosts"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">I began to realize that there was no one coming; that no one had opened the door; +that it had begun to swing immediately upon my saying the word "ghosts"</span> +</div> + +<p>The appropriateness of the coincidence was striking. +I turned quickly to my friends, who were in conversation +behind me, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Speaking of ghosts—did you see that door open?"</p> + +<p>It is my recollection that none of them had seen it. +Certainly not more than one of them had, for I remember +my feeling of disappointment that any one present<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +should have missed so strange a circumstance. Some +one may have asked what I had seen; at all events I +was full of the idea, and, indicating the open door, I +began to tell what I had seen, when—exactly as though +the thing were done deliberately to circumstantiate my +story—with the slow, steady movement of a heavy door +pushed by a feeble hand, the other portal of the huge +cabinet swung open.</p> + +<p>This time all four of us were looking.</p> + +<p>Presently, as we moved across the wide hall to go +downstairs again, Bryan came from one of the other +chambers, whither, I think, he had carried the young +lady's supper on a tray.</p> + +<p>"Are there supposed to be any ghosts in this house?" I +asked him.</p> + +<p>Bryan showed his white teeth in the semi-darkness. +Whether he believed in ghosts or not, evidently he did +not fear them.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," he said. "We're supposed to have a ghost +here."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"In that room over there," he answered, indicating the +bedroom from which we had come.</p> + +<p>We listened attentively to Bryan while he told how +the daughter of Governor Swan had come to attend a +ball at Hampton, and how she had died in the four-post +bed in that old shadowy guest room, and of how, since +then, she had been seen from time to time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They's several people say they saw her," he finished. +"She comes out and combs her hair in front of the long +mirror."</p> + +<p>However, as we drove back to Baltimore that evening, +we repeatedly assured one another that we did not +believe in ghosts.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /> +<br /> +ARE WE STANDARDIZED?</h2> + + +<p>Almost all modern European critics of the +United States agree in complaining that our telephones +and sleeping cars are objectionable, and +that we are "standardized" in everything. Their +criticism of the telephone seems to be that the state of +perfection to which it has been brought in this country +causes it to be widely used, while their disapproval of +our sleeping cars is invariably based on the assumption +that they have no compartments—which is not the fact, +since most of the great transcontinental railroads do run +compartment cars, and much better ones than the best +<i>wagons lits</i>, and since, also, all our sleeping cars have +drawing-rooms which are incomparably better than the +most comfortable European compartments.</p> + +<p>The charge of standardization will, however, bear +a little thought. It is true that most American cities +have a general family resemblance—that a business +street in Atlanta or Memphis looks much like a business +street in Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Buffalo, Milwaukee, +St. Paul, Kansas City, or St. Louis—and that much the +same thing may be said of residence streets. Houses +and office buildings in one city are likely to resemble<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +those of corresponding grade in another; the men who +live in the houses and go daily to the offices are also +similar; so are the trolley cars in which they journey +to and fro; still more so the Fords which many of them +use; the clothing of one man is like that of another, and +all have similar conventions concerning the date at which—without +regard to temperature—straw hats should be +discarded. Their womenfolk, also, are more or less +alike, as are the department stores in which they shop +and the dresses they buy. And the same is true of their +children, the costumes of those children, and the schools +they attend.</p> + +<p>Every American city has social groups corresponding +to similar groups in other cities. There is always the +small, affluent group, made up of people who keep butlers +and several automobiles, and who travel extensively. +In this group there are always some snobs: ladies who +give much time to societies founded on ancestry, and +have a Junkerish feeling about "social leadership."</p> + +<p>Every city has also its "fast" group: people who +consider themselves "unconventional," who drink more +than is good for them, and make much noise. Some +members of this group may belong to the first group, +as well, but in the fast group they have a following +of well-dressed hangers-on: unmarried men and +women, youngish rather than young, who, with little +money, yet manage to dress well and to be seen eating +and drinking and dancing in public places. There is +usually to be found in this group a hectic widow or two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>—be +it grass or sod—and a few pretty girls who, having +been given too much freedom at eighteen, begin +to wonder at twenty-eight, why, though they have always +been "good fellows," none of the dozens of men +who take them about have married them. To this +aggregation drift also those restless husbands and wives +whose glances rove hopefully away from their mates, a +few well-bred drunkards, and a few men and women +who are trying to forget things they cannot forget.</p> + +<p>Then there is always the young married group—a +nice group for the most part—living in comfortable new +houses or apartments, and keeping, usually, both a small +automobile and a baby carriage. They also go to the Country +Club on Saturday nights, leave their motors standing +in the drive, eat a lukewarm supper that tastes like +papier-mâché, and dance themselves to wiltedness.</p> + +<p>Another group is entirely masculine, being made up +of husbands of various ages, their mutual bond being +the downtown club to which they go daily, and in which +the subjects discussed are politics, golf, and the evils of +prohibition. To this group always belong the black-sheep +husbands who, after taking their wives to the +Country Club, disappear and remain away until they are +sent for because it is time to go home, when they come +back shamefaced and scented with Scotch.</p> + +<p>Every American city has also what Don Marquis +calls its "little group of serious thinkers"—women, most +of them—possessed of an ardent desire to "keep abreast +of the times." These women belong to clubs and lit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>erary +societies which are more serious than war. They +are always reading papers or attending lectures, and +at these lectures they get a strange assortment of +"cultural" information and misinformation, delivered +with ghastly assurance by heterogeneous gentlemen in +cutaway coats, who go about and spout for pay. If you +meet these ladies, and they suspect you of being infested +by the germs of "culture," they will open fire on you +with a "thought," about which you may detect a curious +ghostly fragrance, as of Alfred Noyes's lecture, last +week, or of "the New Republic" or the "Literary Digest." +The most "liberal" of them may even take "The +Masses," precisely as people rather like them used to +take "The Philistine," a generation or two ago. Among +the members of this group are the women who work +violently for suffrage—something in which I personally +believe, but which, merely because I believe in it, I do +not necessarily like to take in my coffee as a substitute +for sugar, on my bread as a substitute for butter, and in +my ear as a substitute for pleasant general conversation.</p> + +<p>I do not wish to seem to speak disparagingly of +women of this type, for they are doing good, and they +will do more good when they have become more accustomed +to possessing minds. Having but recently discovered +their minds, they are playing with them enthusiastically, +like children who have just discovered their +new toys on Christmas morning. It is delightful to +watch them. It is diverting to have them pop ideas at +you with that bright-eyed, efficient, assertive look which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +seems to say: "See! I am a liberal woman—a woman +of the new type. I meet men on their own ground. Do +you wish to talk of birth control, social hygiene, and sex +attraction? Or shall we reverse the order? Or shall I +show you how much I know about Brieux, and household +economics, and Ellen Key, and eugenics, and George +Meredith, and post-impressionism, and "Roberts' Rules +of Order," and theosophy, and conditions in the Sixteenth +Ward?"</p> + +<p>When one thinks of these city groups, and of mail-order +houses, and Fords, one may begin to fear it is +indeed true that we are becoming standardized, but +when one lets one's mind drift over the country as +the eye drifts over a map; when one thinks of the +quantities of modest, thoughtful, gentle, generous, intelligent, +sound American families which are to be found +in every city and every town, and thinks again, in a +twinkling, of sheriffs and mining-camp policemen in +the Far West, of boys going to Harvard, and other +boys going to the University of Kansas, others to the +old Southern universities, so rich in tradition, and still +others to Annapolis or West Point; when one thinks of +the snow glittering on the Rocky Mountain wall, back of +Denver; of sleepy little towns drowsing in the sun beside +the Mississippi; of Charles W. Eliot of Cambridge, and +Hy Gill of Seattle; of Dr. Lyman Abbott of New York +and Tom Watson of Georgia; of General Leonard Wood +and Colonel William Jennings Bryan; of ex-slaves living +in their cabins behind Virginia manor houses, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +Filipino and Kanaka fishermen living in villages built +on stilts beside the bayous below New Orleans; of the +dry salt desert of Utah, and two great rivers meeting +between green rocky hills, at Harper's Ferry; of men +working in offices at the top of the Woolworth Building +in New York, and other men working thousands of feet +below the ground, in the copper mines of Butte and the +iron and coal mines of Birmingham—when one thinks +of these things one quickly ceases to fear that the United +States is standardized, and instead begins to fear that +few Americans will ever know the varied wonder of +their country, and the varied character of its inhabitants, +their problems, hopes, and views.</p> + +<p>If I lived somewhere in the region of Boston, New +York, or Philadelphia and wished quickly to learn +whether the country were really standardized or not, I +should get into my automobile—or into some one else's—and +take an autumn tour through Baltimore, past +Doughoregan Manor, some miles to the west of Baltimore, +on to Frederick, Maryland (where they dispute, +quite justly, I believe, the truth of the Barbara Frietchie +legend), and thence "over the mountain wall" and down +into the northeastern corner of the most irregularly +shaped State in the Union, West Virginia. I should +strike for Harper's Ferry, and from there run to +Charles Town, a few miles distant (where John Brown +was tried and executed for the Harper's Ferry raid), +and after circulating about that corner of the State, I +should go down into Virginia by the good highway<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +which leads from Charles Town to Berryville—"Bur'v'l," +they pronounce it—and to "Winchester twenty +miles away" (where they say that Sheridan's Ride was +nothing to make such a lot of talk about!), and then +back, by way of Berryville, and over the Blue Ridge +Mountains into the great fox-hunting counties of Virginia: +Clark, Loudon, and Fauquier. Here I should +see a hunt meet or a race meet. There are many other +places to which I might go after that, but as I meant only +to suggest an easy little tour, I shall stop at this point, +contenting myself with saying that not far to the south +is Charlottesville, where Jefferson built that most beautiful +of all universities, the University of Virginia, and +his wonderful house Monticello; that Staunton (pronounced +as without the "u"), where Woodrow Wilson +was born, lies west of Charlottesville, while Fredericksburg, +where Washington's mother lived, lies to the +northeast.</p> + +<p>Some such trip as this I should take instead of a conventional +New England tour. And before starting I +should buy a copy of Louise Closser Hale's delightful +book, "Into the Old Dominion."</p> + +<p>One beauty of the trip that I suggest is that it isn't all +the same. In one place you get a fair country hotel, +in another an inn, and somewhere along the way you +may have to spend a night in a private house. Also, +though the roads through Maryland, and the part of +West Virginia I speak of, are generally good, my experience +of Virginia roads, especially through the moun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>tains, +leads me to conclude that in respect to highways +Virginia remains a backward State. But who +wants to ride always over oiled roads, always to hotels +with marble lobbies, or big white porches full of hungry-eyed +young women, and old ladies, knitting? Only the +standardized tourist. And I am not addressing him.</p> + +<p>I am talking to the motorist who is not ossified in +habit, who has a love of strangeness and the picturesque—not +only in scenery but in houses and people and +the kind of life those people lead. For it is quite true +that, as Professor Roland C. Usher said in his "Pan +Americanism," "the information in New York about +Buenos Aires is more extended, accurate, and contemporaneous +than the notions in Maine about Alabama.... +Isolation is more a matter of time than of +space, and common interests are due to the ease of transportation +and communication more often than geographical +location."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /> +<br /> +HARPER'S FERRY AND JOHN BROWN</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Mad Old Brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Osawatomie Brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his eighteen other crazy men, went in and took the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Edmund Clarence Stedman.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Three States meet at Harper's Ferry, and the +line dividing two of them is indicated where it +crosses the station platform. If you alight at +the rear end of the train, you are in Maryland; at the +front, you are in West Virginia. This I like. I have +always liked important but invisible boundaries—boundaries +of states or, better yet, of countries. When +I cross them I am disposed to step high, as though not +to trip upon them, and then to pause with one foot in +one land and one in another, trying to imagine that I +feel the division running through my body.</p> + +<p>Harper's Ferry is an entrancing old town; a drowsy +place, piled up beautifully, yet carelessly, upon terraced +roads clinging to steep hills, which slope on one +side to the Potomac, on the other to the Shenandoah, +and come to a point, like the prow of a great ship, at the +confluence of the two.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p100jpg" id="p100jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p100.jpg" width="600" height="428" alt="Harpers Ferry is an entrancing old town; a drowsy place piled up beautifully yet carelessly upon terraced roads +clinging to steep hillsides" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Harpers Ferry is an entrancing old town; a drowsy place piled up beautifully yet carelessly upon terraced roads +clinging to steep hillsides</span> +</div> + +<p>There is something foreign in the appearance of the +place. Many times, as I looked at old stone houses,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +a story or two high on one side, three or four stories on +the other, seeming to set their claws into the cliffs and +cling there for dear life, I thought of houses in Capri +and Amalfi, and in some towns in France; and again +there were low cottages built of blocks of shale covered +with a thin veneer of white plaster showing the outlines +of the stones beneath, which, squatting down amid their +trees and flowers, resembled peasant cottages in Normandy +or Brittany, or in Ireland.</p> + +<p>It is a town in which to ramble for an hour, uphill, +down and around; stopping now to delight in a crumbling +stone wall, tied together with Kenilworth ivy; +now to watch a woman making apple butter in a +great iron pot; now to see an old negro clamber slowly +into his rickety wagon, take up the rope reins, and start +his skinny horse with the surprising words: "Come +hither!"; now to look at an old tangled garden, terraced +rudely up a hillside; now to read the sign, on a telegraph +pole in the village, bearing the frank threat: "If you +Hitch your Horses Here they will be Turned Loose." +Now you will come upon a terraced road, at one side of +which stands an old house draped over the rocks in such +a way as to provide entrance from the ground level, on +any one of three stories; or an unexpected view down a +steep roadway, or over ancient moss-grown housetops +to where, as an old book I found there puts it, "between +two ramparts, in a gorge of savage grandeur, the lordly +Potomac takes to his embrace the beautiful Shenandoah."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>The liaison between the rivers, described in this +Rabelaisian manner by the author of "The Annals of +Harper's Ferry," has been going on for a long time with +all the brazen publicity of a love scene on a park bench. +I recommend the matter to the attention of the Society +for the Suppression of Vice, which once took action +to prohibit a novel by Mr. Theodore Dreiser. A great +many people wish to read Mr. Dreiser's books yet no one +has to read them if he does not want to. But it is a +different matter with these rivers. Sensitive citizens of +Harper's Ferry and pure-minded passengers on the +Baltimore & Ohio Railroad are obliged daily to witness +what is going on.</p> + +<p>Before the days of the Society for the Suppression of +Vice, and of the late Anthony Comstock, when we had +no one to make it clear to us exactly what was shocking, +little was thought of the public scandal between +the Potomac and the Shenandoah. Thomas Jefferson +seems to have rather liked it; there is a point above the +town, known as Jefferson's Rock, at which, it is said, +the author of the Declaration of Independence stood +and uttered a sentiment about the spectacle. Everybody +in Harper's Ferry agrees that Jefferson stood at +Jefferson's Rock and said something appropriate, and +any one of them will try to tell you what he said, but +each version will be different.</p> + +<p>A young lady told me that he said: "This view is +worth a trip across the Atlantic Ocean."</p> + +<p>A young man in a blue felt hat of the fried-egg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +variety said that Jefferson declared, with his well-known +simplicity: "This is the grandest view I ever seen."</p> + +<p>An old man who had to go through the tobacco +chewer's pre-conversational rite before replying to my +question gave it as: "Pfst!—They ain't nothin' in +Europe ner Switzerland ner nowheres else, I reckon', to +beat this-here scenery."</p> + +<p>The man at the drug store quoted differently alleging +the saying to have been: "Europe has nothing on this": +whereas the livery stable man's version was: "This has +that famous German river—the Rhine River don't they +call it?—skinned to death."</p> + +<p>Whatever Jefferson's remark was, there has been +added to the spectacle at Harper's Ferry, since his day, +a new feature, which, could he have but seen it, must +have struck him forcibly, and might perhaps have +caused him to say more.</p> + +<p>At a lofty point upon the steep wall of Maryland +Heights, across the Potomac from the town, far, far +up upon the side of the cliff, commanding a view not only +of both rivers, but of their meeting place and their joint +course below, and of the lovely contours of the Blue +Ridge Mountains, fading to smoky coloring in the remote +distance, there has, of late years, appeared the outline +of a gigantic face, which looks out from its emplacement +like some Teutonic god in vast effigy, its huge +luxuriant mustaches pointing East and West as though +in symbolism of the conquest of a continent. A blue +and yellow background, tempered somewhat by the ele<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>ments, +serves to attract attention to the face and to the +legend which accompanies it, but the thing one sees +above all else, the thing one recognizes, is the face itself, +with its look half tragic, half resigned, yet always +so inscrutable: for it is none other than the beautiful +brooding countenance of Gerhard Mennen, the talcum-powder +gentleman.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The great story of Harper's Ferry is of course the +John Brown story. Joseph I. C. Clarke, writing in the +New York "Sun" of Sir Roger Casement's execution +for treason in connection with the Irish rebellion, compared +him with John Brown and also with Don Quixote. +The spiritual likeness between these three bearded figures +is striking enough. All were idealists; all were +fanatics. Brown's ideal was a noble one—that of freedom—but +his manner of attempting to translate it into +actuality was that of a madman. He believed not only +that the slaves should be freed, but that the blood of +slaveholders should be shed in atonement. In "bleeding +Kansas" he led the Ossawatomie massacre, and +committed cold-blooded murders under the delusion that +the sword of the Lord was in his hand.</p> + +<p>In October, 1859, Brown, who had for some time been +living under an assumed name in the neighborhood of +Harper's Ferry, led a score of his followers, some of +them negroes, in a surprise attack upon the Government +arsenal at this place, capturing the watchmen and taking +possession of the buildings. It was his idea to get the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +weapons the arsenal contained and give them to the +slaves that they might rise and free themselves. Before +this plan could be executed, however, Brown and his +men were besieged in the armory, and here, after a day +or two of bloody fighting, with a number of deaths on +both sides, he was captured with his few surviving men, +by Colonel (later General) Robert E. Lee, whose aide, +upon this occasion, was J. E. B. Stuart, later the Confederate +cavalry leader. Stuart had been in Kansas, +and it was he who recognized the leader of the raid as +Brown of Ossawatomie.</p> + +<p>It is said that Brown's violent anti-slavery feeling was +engendered by his having seen, in his youth, a colored +boy of about his own age cruelly misused. He brooded +over the wrongs of the blacks until, as some students of +his life believe, he became insane on this subject. His +utterances show that he was willing to give up his life +and those of his sons and other followers, if by such +action he could merely draw attention to the cause which +had taken possession of his soul. In the course of the +fighting he saw his two sons mortally wounded, and was +himself stabbed and cut. Throughout the fight and his +subsequent trial at Charles Town he remained imperturbable; +when taken to the gallows he sat upon his +coffin, in a wagon, and he not only mounted the scaffold +without a tremor, but actually stood there, apparently +unmoved, for ten or fifteen minutes, with the noose +around his neck, while the troops which had formed his +escort were marched to their positions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>A large number of troops were present at the execution, +for it was then believed in the South that the Brown +raid was not the mere suicidal stroke of an individual +fanatic, but an organized movement on the part of the +Republican party; an effort to rescue Brown was therefore +apprehended. This idea was later shown to be a +fallacy, Brown having made his own plans, and been +financed by a few northern friends, headed by Gerrit +Smith of New York.</p> + +<p>There has been a tendency in the North to make a +saint of John Brown, and in the South to make a devil +of him. As a matter of fact he was a poor, misguided +zealot, with a wild light in his eye, who had set out to +do a frightful thing; for, bad though slavery was, its +evils were not comparable with the horrors which would +have resulted from a slave rebellion.</p> + +<p>It must be conceded, however, that those who would +canonize John Brown have upon their side a strange and +impressive piece of evidence. The jail where he was +lodged in Charles Town and the courthouse where he +was tried, still stand, and it is the actual fact that, when +the snow falls, it always miraculously melts in a path +which leads diagonally across the street from the one to +the other. That this is true I have unimpeachable testimony. +<i>Snow will not stand on the path by which +John Brown crossed back and forth from the jail to the +court-house.</i> There will be snow over all the rest of +the street, but not on that path; there you can see it +melting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>But, as with certain other "miracles," this one is not +so difficult to understand if you know how it is brought +about. The courthouse is heated from the jail, and the +hot pipes run under the pavement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /> +<br /> +THE VIRGINIAS AND THE WASHINGTONS</h2> + + +<p>In colonial times, and long thereafter, the present +State of West Virginia was a part of Virginia. +Virginia, in the old days, used to have no western +borders to her most westerly counties, which, in theory, +ran out to infinity. As the western part of the State +became settled, county lines were drawn, and new +counties were started farther back from the coast. For +this reason, towns which are now in Jefferson County, +West Virginia, used to be in that county of Virginia +which lies to the east of Jefferson County, and some +towns have been in several different counties in the +course of their history.</p> + +<p>The people in the eastern part of West Virginia are, +so far as I am capable of judging, precisely like Virginians. +The old houses, when built, were in Virginia, +the names of the people are Virginian names, and customs +and points of view are Virginian. Until I went +there I was not aware how very much this means.</p> + +<p>I do not know who wrote the school history I studied +as a boy, but I do know now that it was written by a lopsided +historian, and that his "lop," like that of many +another of his kind, led him to enlarge upon American<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +naval and military victories, to minimize American defeats, +to give an impression that the all-important early +colonies were those of New England, and that the all-important +one of them was Massachusetts. From this +bias I judge that the historian was a Boston man. It +takes a Bostonian to think in that way. They do it still.</p> + +<p>From my school history I gathered the idea that although +Sir Walter Raleigh and Captain John Smith +were so foolish as to dally more or less in the remote +fastnesses of Virginia, and although there was a little +ineffectual settlement at Jamestown, all the important +colonizing of this country occurred in New England. I +read about Peregrine White, but not about Virginia +Dare; I read much of Miles Standish, but nothing of +Christopher Newport; I read a great deal of the <i>Mayflower</i>, +but not a word of the <i>Susan Constant</i>.</p> + +<p>Yet Virginia Dare, if she lived, must have been nearing +young ladyhood when Peregrine White was born; +Captain Christopher Newport passed the Virginia +capes when Miles Standish was hardly more than a +youth, in Lancashire; and the <i>Susan Constant</i> landed +the Jamestown settlers more than a dozen years before +the <i>Mayflower</i> landed her shipload of eminent furniture +owners at Plymouth. Even Plymouth itself had +been visited years before by John Smith, and it was he, +not the Pilgrims, who named the place.</p> + +<p>I find that some boys, to-day, know these things. +But though that fact is encouraging, I am not writing +for boys, but for their comparatively ignorant parents.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>Not only did the first English colony establish itself +in Virginia, and the first known tobacco come from there—a +point the importance of which cannot be overstated—but +the history of the Old Dominion is in every way +more romantic and heroic than that of any other State. +The first popular government existed there long before +the Revolution, and at the time of the break with the +mother country Virginia was the most wealthy and +populous of the Colonies. Some historians say that +slavery was first introduced there when some Dutchmen +sold to the colonists a shipload of negroes, but I +believe this point is disputed. The Declaration of Independence +was, of course, written by a Virginian, and +made good by the sword of one. The first President of +the United States was a Virginian, and so is the present +Chief Executive. The whole of New England has produced +but four presidents; Ohio has produced six; but +Virginia has given us eight. The first British army to +land on this continent (Braddock's) landed in Virginia, +and in that State our two greatest wars were terminated +by the surrenders of Cornwallis and of Lee. And, last, +the gallant Lee himself was a Virginian of the Virginians—a +son of the distinguished Henry Lee who said +of Washington that he was "first in war, first in peace, +and first in the hearts of his countrymen."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On the pleasant drive of perhaps a dozen miles, from +Harper's Ferry to Charles Town, I noticed here and +there, at the roadside, pyramidal stones, suggesting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +monuments, but bearing no inscription save that each +had a number. On inquiry I learned that these were +indeed Confederate monuments, but that to find out +what they marked it was necessary to go to the county +courthouse at Charles Town and look up the numbers +in a book, of which there is but one copy. These monuments +were set out three or four years ago. They appeared +suddenly, almost as though they had grown overnight, +and many people wondered, as I had, what they +meant.</p> + +<p>"Eloise," one Charles Town young lady asked another, +"what's that monument out in front of your +house with the number twenty-one on it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Eloise, "that's where all my suitors are +buried."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One of the things which gives Jefferson County, West +Virginia, its Virginian flavor is the collection of fine +old houses which adorn it. Many of these houses are +the homes of families bearing the name of Washington, +or having in their veins the blood of the Washingtons. +It is said that there is more Washington blood in +Charles Town (which, by the way, should not be confused +with Charleston, capital of the same State), than +in any other place, if not in all the rest of the world +together. The nearest competitors to Charles Town in +this respect are Westmoreland County, Virginia, and +the town of Kankakee, Illinois, where resides the +Spottswood Augustine Washington family, said to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +the only Washington group to have taken the Union +side in the Civil War. It is rumored also that all the +Washingtons are Democrats, although that fact is hard +to reconcile, at the present time, with the statement that, +among the five thousand of them, there is but a single +Federal officeholder.</p> + +<p>The settling of the Washingtons in Jefferson County, +West Virginia, came about through the fact that George +Washington, when a youth of sixteen or seventeen, became +acquainted with that part of what was then Virginia, +through having gone to survey for Lord Fairfax, +who had acquired an enormous tract of land in the +neighboring county of Clarke, which is still in the +mother State. To this estate, called Greenaway Court, +his lordship, it is recorded, came from England to isolate +himself because a woman with whom he was in love +refused to marry him.</p> + +<p>In this general neighborhood George Washington +lived for three years, and local enthusiasts affirm that to +his having drunk the lime-impregnated waters of this +valley was due his great stature. The man who informed +me of this theory had lived there aways. He +was about five feet three inches tall, and had drunk the +waters all his life—plain and otherwise.</p> + +<p>Washington's accounts of the region so interested his +brothers that they finally moved there, acquired large +tracts of land, and built homes. Charles Town, indeed, +was laid out on the land of Charles Washington, and +was named for him, and there is evidence that George<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +Washington, who certainly gave the lines for the roads +about the place, also laid out the town.</p> + +<p>Another brother, John Augustine, left a large family, +while Samuel, the oldest, described as "a rollicking country +squire," was several years short of fifty when he +died, but for all that had managed to marry five times +and to find, nevertheless, spare moments in which to lay +out the historic estate of Harewood, not far from +Charles Town. It is said that George Washington was +his brother's partner in this enterprise, but excepting +in its interior, which is very beautiful, there is no +sign, about the building, of his graceful architectural +touch.</p> + +<p>George Washington spent much time at Harewood, +Lafayette and his son visited there, and there the +sprightly widow, Dolly Todd, married James Madison. +This wedding was attended by President Washington +and his wife and by many other national figures; the +bride made the journey to Harewood in Jefferson's +coach, escorted by Madison and a group of his friends +on horseback, and history makes mention of a very large +and very gay company.</p> + +<p>This is all very well until you see Harewood; for, substantial +though the house is, with its two-foot stone +walls, it has but five rooms: two downstairs and three +up.</p> + +<p>Where did they all sleep?</p> + +<p>The question was put by the practical young lady +whom I accompanied to Harewood, but the wife of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +farmer to whom the place is rented could only smile and +shake her head.</p> + +<p>The bedroom now occupied by this farmer and his +wife has doubtless been occupied also by the first President +of the United States and his wife, the fourth President +and his wife, by Lafayette, and by a King of France—for +Louis-Philippe, and his brothers, the Duc de +Montpensier and the Comte de Beaujolais, spent some +time at Harewood during their period of exile.</p> + +<p>Having read in an extract from the Baltimore "Sun" +that Harewood, which is still owned in the Washington +family, was a place in which all Washingtons took great +and proper pride, that it was "the lodestone which draws +the wandering Washingtons back to the old haunts," +I was greatly shocked on visiting the house to see the +shameful state of dilapidation into which it has been allowed +to pass. The porches and steps have fallen down, +the garden is a disreputable tangle, and the graves in +the yard are heaped with tumble-down stones about +which the cattle graze. The only parts of the building +in good repair are those parts which time has not yet +succeeded in destroying. The drawing-room, containing +a mantelpiece given to Washington by Lafayette, +and the finest wood paneling I have seen in any American +house, has held its own fairly well, as has also +the old stairway, imported by Washington from England. +But that these things are not in ruins, like the +porches, is no credit to the Washingtons who own the +property to-day, and who, having rented the place, actu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>ally +leave family portraits hanging on the walls to crack +and rot through the cold winter.</p> + +<p>If there are indeed five thousand Washingtons, and if +they are proud of their descent, a good way for them to +show it would be to contribute twenty-five cents each to be +expended on putting Harewood in respectable condition.</p> + +<p>The last member of the Washington family to own +Mount Vernon was John Augustine Washington, of +Charles Town, who sold the former home of his distinguished +collateral ancestor. This Mr. Washington was +a Confederate officer in the Civil War. He had a son +named George, whose widow, if I mistake not, is the +Mrs. George Washington of Charles Town, of whom I +heard an amusing story.</p> + +<p>With another Charles Town lady this Mrs. Washington +went to the Columbian Exposition in Chicago, and +the two attended the Fair together on Washington Day. +On this occasion Mrs. Washington made a purchase in +one of the buildings, and ordered it sent to her home in +Charles Town.</p> + +<p>"What name?" asked the clerk.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. George Washington."</p> + +<p>The clerk concluded that she was joking.</p> + +<p>"I want your <i>real</i> name," he insisted with a smile.</p> + +<p>"But," plaintively protested the gentle Mrs. Washington, +"that is the only name I <i>have</i>!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One of the most charming of the old houses in the +neighborhood of Charles Town, and one of the few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +which is still occupied by the descendants of its builder, +is Piedmont, the residence of the Briscoe family. It is +a brick house, nearly a century and a half old, with a +lovely old portico, and it contains two of the most interesting +relics I saw on my entire journey in the South. +The first of these is the wall paper of the drawing-room, +upon which is depicted, not in pattern, but in a series +of pictures with landscape backgrounds, various scenes +representing the adventures of Telemachus on his search +for his father. I remember having seen on the walls +of the parlor of an old hotel at South Berwick, Maine, +some early wall paper of this character, but the pictures +on that paper were done in various shades of gray, +whereas the Piedmont wall paper is in many colors. +The other relic is a letter which Mrs. Briscoe drew from +her desk quite as though it had been a note received that +morning from a friend. It was written on tough buff-colored +paper, and, though the ink was brown with age, +the handwriting was clear and legible and the paper +was not broken at the folds. It was dated "Odiham, +Sept. 1st, 1633," and ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">To Dr. John Briscoe</span>, <i>Greetings</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>: As the Privy Council have decided that I shall +not be disturbed or dispossessed of the charter granted by his +Majesty—the <i>Ark</i> and Pinnace <i>Dove</i> will sail from Gravesend +about the 1st of October, and if you are of the same mind as +when I conversed with you, I would be glad to have you join +the colony.</p> + +<p>With high esteem, Your most obedient servant,</p> +<p><span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 12em;">Cecilius Baltimore.</span></p> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>This letter from the second Lord Baltimore refers +to the historic voyage which resulted in the first settlement +of Maryland, thirteen years after the landing of +the Pilgrims at Plymouth. As for Dr. Briscoe, to +whom the letter was written, he was one of the three +hundred original colonists, but after settling in St. +Mary's, near the mouth of the Potomac, removed to the +place where his descendants still reside.</p> + +<p>Farther out in Jefferson County the motorist may +pass through two curious hamlets which, though not +many miles from Charles Town, have the air of being +completely removed from the world. One of these was +known, many years ago, as Middleway, and later as +Smithfield, but is now called Clip—and for a curious +reason.</p> + +<p>When the stagecoaches were running, the town was +quite a place, as its several good old houses indicate; +but the railroads, when they were built, ignored the +town, but killed the stage lines, with the result that the +little settlement dried up. Even before this an old plaster-covered +house, still standing, became haunted. The +witches who resided in it developed the unpleasant custom +of flying out at night and cutting pieces from the +clothing of passers-by. And that is how the town came +to be called Clip.</p> + +<p>A century or so ago, when the rudeness of the witches +had long annoyed the inhabitants of Clip, and had +proved very detrimental to their clothing, a Roman +Catholic priest came along and told them that if they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +would give him a certain field, he would rid them of +the evil spirits. This struck the worthy citizens of +Clip as a good bargain; they gave the priest his field +(it is still known as the Priest's Field, and is now used +as a place for basket picnics) and forthwith the operations +of the witches ceased. So, at least, the story +goes.</p> + +<p>Not far beyond Clip lies the hamlet of Leetown, taking +its name from that General Charles Lee who commanded +an American army in the Revolutionary War, +but who was suspected by Washington of being a traitor, +and was finally court-martialed and cashiered from +the army. The old stone house which Lee built at Leetown, +and in which he lived after his disgrace, still remains. +Instead of having partitions in his house the +old general lived in one large room, upon the floor of +which he made chalk marks to indicate different chambers. +Here he dwelt surrounded by innumerable dogs, +and here he was frequently visited by Generals Horatio +Gates and Adam Stephen, who were neighbors and +cronies of his, and met at his house to drink wine and +exchange stories.</p> + +<p>It is said that upon one of these occasions Lee got up +and declared:</p> + +<p>"The county of Berkeley is to be congratulated upon +having as citizens three noted generals of the Revolution, +each of whom was ignominiously cashiered. You, +Stephen, for getting drunk when you should have been +sober; you, Gates, for advancing when you should have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +retreated; and your humble servant for retreating when +he should have advanced."</p> + +<p>Lee was a turbulent, insubordinate, hard-drinking +rascal, and nothing could be more characteristic than the +will, written in his own handwriting, filed by the old +reprobate with the clerk of the Berkeley County Court, +and expressing the following sentiments:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any church +or churchyard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist +meeting house, for since I have resided in this county I +have kept so much bad company when living that I do not desire +to continue it when dead.</p></div> + +<p>During Lee's life there, Leetown was probably a livelier +place than it is to-day. Something of its present +state may be gathered from the fact that when a lady +of my acquaintance stopped her motor there recently, +and asked some men what time it was, they stared +blankly at her for a moment, after which one of them +said seriously:</p> + +<p>"We don't know. We don't have time here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br /> +<br /> +I RIDE A HORSE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And vaulted with such ease into his seat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And witch the world with noble horsemanship.<br /></span> +</div> +<p><span class="i0 smcap signature">—King Henry IV.<br /></span></p> +</div> + + +<p>Claymont Court, near Charles Town, the +house in which my companion and I were so +fortunate as to be guests during our visit to +this part of the country, is one of the old Washington +houses, having been built by Bushrod Corbin Washington, +a nephew of the first President. It is a beautiful +brick building, with courts at either end, the brick walls +of which, connecting with the house, extend its lines +with peculiar grace, and tie to the main structure the +twin buildings which balance it, according to the delightful +fashion of early Virginia architecture. The +hexagonal brick tile of the front walk at Claymont +Court, and the square stone pavement of the portico, +resemble exactly those at Mount Vernon, and are said +to have been imported at the same time; and it is believed +also that the Claymont box trees were brought over with +those growing at Mount Vernon.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p132jpg" id="p132jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p132.jpg" width="600" height="354" alt="Claymont Court is one of the old Washington houses. But in all its history it has never been a happier home or a +more interesting one than it is to-day" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Claymont Court is one of the old Washington houses. But in all its history it has never been a happier home or a +more interesting one than it is to-day</span> +</div> + +<p>The estate was sold out of the Washington family<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +in 1870, when it was acquired by a Colonel March, who +later sold it to a gentleman whose wild performances +at Claymont are not only remembered, but are commemorated +in the house. In the cellar, for instance, +bricked up in a room barely large enough to hold it, +whence it cannot be removed except by tearing down a +heavy wall, stands a huge carved sideboard to which +the young man took a dislike, and which he therefore +caused to be carried to the cellar and immured, despite +the protests of his family. It is said that upon another +occasion he conceived the picturesque idea of riding his +horse upstairs and hitching it to his bedpost; and that +he did so is witnessed by definite marks of horseshoes +on the oak treads of the stair. Later Frank R. Stockton +purchased the place, and there he wrote his story +"The Captain of the Toll-Gate," which was published +posthumously.</p> + +<p>But in all its history this glorious old house has never +been a happier home, or a more interesting one, than it +is to-day. For now it is the residence of four young +ladies, sisters, who, because of their divergent tastes +and their complete congeniality, continually suggest the +fancy that they have stepped out of a novel. One of +them is the Efficient Sister, who runs the automobile +and the farm of two or three hundred acres, sells the +produce, keeps the accounts, and pays off the men; another +is the Domestic Sister, who conducts the admirable +ménage; another is the Sociological and Artistic +Sister, who draws and plays and thinks about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +masses; while the fourth is the Sprightly Sister Who +Likes to Dance.</p> + +<p>Never had my companion or I seen a more charming, +a more varied household, an establishment more +self-contained, more complete in all things from vegetables +to brains. No need to leave the place for anything. +Yet if one wished to look about the country, +there was the motor, and there were the saddle horses +in the stable—all of them members of old Virginian +families—and there were four equestrian young ladies.</p> + +<p>"Would you-all like to ride to-day?" one of the sisters +asked us at breakfast.</p> + +<p>To my companion, horseback riding is comparatively +a new thing. He had taken it up a year before—partly +because of appeals from me, partly because of changes +which he had begun to notice in his topography. Compared +with him I was a veteran horseman, for it was +then a year and three months since I had begun my riding +lessons.</p> + +<p>I said that I would like to ride, but he declared that he +must stay behind and make a drawing.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, in the past, I had thought I would prefer +to make my living as a painter or an illustrator than +as a writer, but at this juncture it occurred to me that, +though the writer's medium of expression is a less +agreeable one than that of the graphic artist, it is much +pleasanter to ride about with pretty girls than to sit +alone and draw a picture of their house. I began to +feel sorry for my companion: the thought of our rid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>ing +gaily off, and leaving him at work, made him seem +pathetic. My appeals, however, made no impression +upon his inflexible sense of duty, and I soon ceased trying +to persuade him to join us, and began to speculate, +instead, as to whether all four sisters would accompany +me, or whether only two or three of them would go—and +if so, which.</p> + +<p>"What kind of horse do you like?" asked one.</p> + +<p>Such a question always troubles me. It is embarrassing. +Imagine saying to a young lady who likes to +ride thoroughbred hunters across fields and over ditches +and fences: "I should like a handsome horse, one that +will cause me to appear to advantage, one that looks +spirited but is in reality tame."</p> + +<p>Such an admission would be out of character with the +whole idea of riding. One could hardly make it to one's +most intimate male friend, let alone to a girl who knows +all about withers and hocks and pastern joints, and +talks about "paneled country," and takes the "Racing +Calendar."</p> + +<p>To such a young lady it is impossible to say: "I +have ridden for a little more than a year; the horses +with which I am acquainted are benevolent creatures +from a riding school near Central Park; they go around +the reservoir twice, and return automatically, and they +sigh deeply when one mounts and again when one gets +off."</p> + +<p>No; that sort of thing will not do at all; for the horse—besides +having been placed in a position more aristo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>cratic +than ever, through the philanthropies of Henry +Ford—is essentially "sporty." You must be a "sport" +or you must keep away from him. You must approach +him with dash or you must not approach him at all. +And when a young lady inquires what kind of horse you +like, there is but one way to reply.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter at all," I answered. "Any horse +will do for me." Then, after a little pause, I added, as +though it were merely an amusing afterthought: "I +suppose I shall be stiff after my ride. I haven't been on +a horse in nearly two months."</p> + +<p>"Then," said the sympathetic young lady, "you'll +want an easy ride."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it <i>might</i> be more sensible," I conceded.</p> + +<p>"Better give him the black mare," put in the Efficient +Sister.</p> + +<p>"She hasn't been out lately," said the other. "You +know how she acts when she hasn't been ridden enough. +He might not know just how to take her. I was thinking +of giving him 'Dr. Bell.'"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bell's too gentle," said the Efficient Sister.</p> + +<p>"Which horse do you think you'd like?" the other +asked me. "Dr. Bell has plenty of life, but he's gentle. +The black mare's a little bit flighty at first, but if +you can ride her she soon finds it out and settles down."</p> + +<p>I want to ask: "What happens if she finds out that +you <i>can't</i> ride her? What does she do then?" But I +refrained.</p> + +<p>"She's never thrown anybody but a stable boy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +a man who came up here to visit—and neither one of +them could ride worth a cent," said the Efficient Sister.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile I had been thinking hard.</p> + +<p>"What color is Dr. Bell?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"He's a sorrel."</p> + +<p>"Then," I said, "I believe I'd rather ride Dr. Bell. +I don't like black horses. It is simply one of those peculiar +aversions one gets."</p> + +<p>They seemed to accept this statement, and so the matter +was agreeably settled.</p> + +<p>When, at ten o'clock, I came down dressed for riding, +my companion was out in front of the house, making +a drawing; the four young ladies were with him, all +seemingly enchanted with his work, and none of them in +riding habits.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p124jpg" id="p124jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p124.jpg" width="600" height="429" alt="When I came down, dressed for riding, my companion was making a drawing; the four young ladies were with him, +none of them in riding habits" title="" /> +<span class="caption">When I came down, dressed for riding, my companion was making a drawing; the four young ladies were with him, +none of them in riding habits</span> +</div> + +<p>"Who's going with me?" I asked as I strolled toward +them.</p> + +<p>They looked at one another inquiringly. Then the +Efficient Sister said: "I'd like to go, but this is pay +day and I can't leave the place."</p> + +<p>"I have to go to town for some supplies," said the +Domestic Sister.</p> + +<p>"I want to stay and watch this," said the Sociological +and Artistic Sister. (She made a gesture toward +my companion, but I think she referred to his drawing.)</p> + +<p>"I'm going away to a house party," said the Sprightly +Sister who Likes to Dance. "I must pack."</p> + +<p>"You can't get lost," said the Domestic Sister.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Even if you should," put in the Efficient Sister, "Dr. +Bell would bring you home."</p> + +<p>During this conversation my companion did not look +up from his work, neither did he speak; yet upon his +back there was an expression of derisive glee which +made me hope, vindictively, that he would smudge his +drawing. However inscrutable his face, I have never +known a man with a back so expressive.</p> + +<p>"Here comes Dr. Bell," remarked the Sociological +and Artistic Sister, as a negro groom appeared leading +the sorrel steed.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, trying to speak debonairely as I +started toward the drive, "I'll be going."</p> + +<p>I wished to leave them where they were and go +around to the other side of the house to mount. I had +noticed a stone block there and meant to use it if no one +but the groom were present; also I intended to tip the +groom and ask him a few casual questions about the +ways of Dr. Bell.</p> + +<p>I might have managed this but for a sudden manifestation +of interest on the part of my companion.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said to the young ladies, "let's go +and see him off." It seemed to me that he emphasized +the word "off" unpleasantly. However I tried to seem +calm as we moved toward the drive.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bell had a bright brown eye; there was something +alert in the gaze with which he watched us moving +toward him. However, to my great relief he stood +quite still while two of the sisters who preceded me by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +a few steps, went up and patted him. Evidently he liked +to be patted. I decided that I would pat him also.</p> + +<p>I had approached him from the left and in order to +mount I now found it necessary to circle around, in +front of him. I was determined that if the horse would +but remain stationary I should step up to him, speak to +him, give him a quick pat on the neck, gather the reins +in my hand, place my foot swiftly in the stirrup, take +a good hop, and be on his back before any one had time +to notice.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bell, however, caused me to alter these plans; +for though he had stood docile as a dog while the sisters +patted him, his manner underwent a change on sight +of me. I do not think this change was caused by any +personal dislike for me. I believe he would have done +the same had any stranger appeared before him in riding +boots. The trouble was, probably, that he had expected +to be ridden by one of the young ladies, and was +shocked by the abrupt discovery that a total stranger +was to ride him. This is merely my surmise. I do not +claim deep understanding of the mental workings of +any horse, for there is no logic about them or their +performances. They are like crafty lunatics, reasoning, +if they reason at all, in a manner too treacherous +and devious for human comprehension. Their very +usefulness, the service they render man, is founded on +their own folly; were it not for that, man could not even +catch them, let alone force them to submit, like weak-minded +giants, to his will.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>The fact is that, excepting barnyard fowls, the horse +is the most idiotic of all animals, and, pound for pound, +even the miserable hen is his intellectual superior. Indeed, +if horses had brains no better than those of hens, +but proportionately larger, they would not be drawing +wagons, and carrying men upon their backs, but would +be lecturing to women's clubs, and holding chairs in universities, +and writing essays on the Development of the +Short Story in America.</p> + +<p>Horse lovers, who are among the most prejudiced of +all prejudiced people, and who regard horses with an +amiable but fatuous admiration such as young parents +have for their babies, will try to tell you that these +great creatures which they love are not mentally deficient. +Ask them why the horse, with his superior +strength, submits to man, and they will tell you that the +horse's eye magnifies, and that, to the horse, man consequently +appears to be two or three times his actual +size.</p> + +<p>Nonsense! There is but one reason for the yielding +of the horse: he is an utter fool.</p> + +<p>Everything proves him a fool. He will charge into +battle, he will walk cheerfully beside a precipice, he +will break his back pulling a heavy wagon, or break +his leg or his neck in jumping a hurdle; yet he will go +into a frenzy of fright at the sight of a running child, +a roadside rock, or the shadow of a branch across the +path, and not even a German chancellor could shy as he +will at a scrap of paper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>As I passed in front of Dr. Bell he rolled his eyes at +me horribly, and rose upon his hind legs, almost upsetting +the groom as he went up and barely missing him +with his fore feet as he brought them to earth again.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with him?" I asked, stopping.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<a name="p117jpg" id="p117jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p117.jpg" width="425" height="582" alt=""What's the matter with him?" I asked, stopping" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"What's the matter with him?" I asked, stopping</span> +</div> + +<p>"I guess he just feels good," said the Efficient Sister.</p> + +<p>"Yassuh, tha 's all," said the groom cheerfully. +"<i>He's</i> aw' right. Gentle ath a lamb."</p> + +<p>As he made this statement, I took another step in the +direction of the horse, whereat he reared again.</p> + +<p>"<i>Well</i>, now!" said the groom, patting Dr. Bell upon +the neck. "Feelin' pretty good 's mawnin', is you? +There, there!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Bell, however, paid little attention to his attendant, +but gazed steadily at me with an evil look.</p> + +<p>"Does he always do like that?" I asked the Domestic +Sister.</p> + +<p>"I never saw him do it before," she said.</p> + +<p>"Maybe he doesn't admire the cut of your riding +breeches," suggested my companion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, suh," protested the groom. "It 's jes' his +li'l way tryin' t' tell you he likes de ladies t' ride him +better 'n he likes de gemmen."</p> + +<p>"He means he doesn't want me to ride him?"</p> + +<p>"Yassuh, da 's jes' his li'l idee 't he 's got <i>now</i>. He +be all right once you in de saddle."</p> + +<p>"But how am I to get in the saddle if he keeps doing +that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hold 'im all right," said the groom. "You jes' get +on 'im, suh. He soon find out who 's boss."</p> + +<p>"I think he will," said my heartless companion.</p> + +<p>"Nevvah you feah, suh," the man said to me. "Ah +knowed the minute Ah saw yo' laigs 't you was a <i>horse</i>man. +Yassuh! Ah says t' ole Gawge, Ah says, 'Dat +gemman's certain'y been 'n de cava'ry, he has, wid dem +fine crooked laigs o' hisn.'"</p> + +<p>"You should have told that to Dr. Bell, instead," suggested +my companion.</p> + +<p>At this every one laughed. Even the groom laughed +a wheezy, cackling negro laugh. The situation was +becoming unbearable. Clearly I must try to mount. +Perhaps I should not succeed, but I must try. As I +was endeavoring to adjust my mind to this unpleasant +fact the Efficient Sister spoke.</p> + +<p>"That horse is going to be ridden," she said firmly, +"if I have to go upstairs and dress and ride him myself."</p> + +<p>That settled it.</p> + +<p>"Now you hold him down," I said to the groom, and +stepped forward.</p> + +<p>As I did so Dr. Bell reared again, simultaneously +drawing back sidewise and turning his flank away from +me, but this time the Efficient Sister hit him with a crop +she had found somewhere, and he came down hastily, +and began to dance a sort of double clog with all four +feet.</p> + +<p>After several efforts I managed to get beside him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +Gathering the reins in my left hand I put my foot up +swiftly, found the stirrup, and with a hop, managed to +board the beast.</p> + +<p>As I did so, the groom let him go. Both stirrups +were short, but it was too late to discuss that, for by +the time I was adjusted to my seat we had traveled, +at a run, over a considerable part of the lawn and +through most of the flowerbeds. The shortness of the +stirrups made me bounce, and I had a feeling that I +might do better to remove my feet from them entirely, +but as I had never ridden without stirrups I hesitated +to try it now. Therefore I merely dug my knees desperately +into the saddle flaps and awaited what should +come, while endeavoring to check the animal. He, +however, kept his head down, which not only made it +difficult to stop him, but also gave me an unpleasant +sense as of riding on the cowcatcher of a locomotive +with nothing but space in front of me. Once, with a +jerk, I managed to get his head up, but when I did that +he reared. I do not care for rearing.</p> + +<p>To add to my delight, one of the dogs now ran out +and began to bark and circle around us, jumping up at +the horse's nose and nipping at his heels. This brought +on new activities, for now Dr. Bell not only reared but +elevated himself suddenly behind, to kick at the dog. +However, there was one good result. We stopped running +and began to trot rapidly about in circles, dodging +the dog, and this finally brought us back toward the +house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My stirrups are too short!" I shouted to the groom.</p> + +<p>"Ride oveh heah, suh," he called back.</p> + +<p>I tried to do it, but Dr. Bell continued to move in +circles. At last, however, the man managed to catch us +by advancing with his hand extended, as though offering +a lump of sugar, at the same time talking gently to my +steed. Then, while my companion held the bit the +negro adjusted the stirrup leathers. I was glad of the +breathing spell. I wished that it took longer to adjust +stirrups.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go out by the drive this time," said the +Efficient Sister.</p> + +<p>"I intended to before," I told her, "but he didn't seem +to understand the signals."</p> + +<p>"You've got spurs on. Give him the spur."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, I had hesitated to give him the +spur. It seemed to me that he was annoyed with me +anyway, and that the spur would only serve to increase +his prejudice. I wanted to rule him not by brute force +but by kindness. I wished that I could somehow make +him know that I was a regular subscriber to the S. P. C. A., +that I loved children and animals and all helpless +creatures, both great and small, that I used the dumb +brutes gently and only asked in return that they do the +same by me. But how is one to communicate such +humanitarian ideas to a big, stupid, wilful, perverse, +diabolical creature like a horse?</p> + +<p>I was determined that when we started again we +should not run over the lawn if I could possibly pre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>vent +it. Therefore I had the groom head the horse +down the drive, and the moment he released him, I +touched Dr. Bell with the spurs. The result was +magical. He started on a run but kept in the road +where I wanted him to be, giving me, for the moment, a +sense of having something almost like control over him. +At the foot of the drive was a gate which I knew could +be opened without dismounting, by pulling a rope, and +as no horse, unless quite out of his mind, will deliberately +run into a gate, I had reason to hope that Dr. Bell would +stop when he got there. Imagine my feelings, then, +when on sight of the gate he not only failed to slacken +his pace, but actually dashed at it faster than ever. +Within a few feet of the barrier he seemed to pause +momentarily, hunching himself in a peculiar and alarming +manner: then he arose, sailed through the air like a +swallow, came down beyond like a load of trunks falling +off from a truck, and galloped down the highway, seemingly +quite indifferent to the fact that the stirrups were +flapping at his sides and that I had moved from the +saddle to a point near the base of his neck.</p> + +<p>My position at the moment was one of considerable +insecurity. By holding on to his mane and wriggling +backward I hoped to stay on, provided he did not put +down his head. If he did that, I was lost. Fortunately +for me, however, Dr. Bell did not realize with +what ease he could have dropped me at that moment, +and by dint of cautious but eager gymnastics, I managed +to regain the saddle and the stirrups, although in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +doing so I pricked him several times with the spurs, with +the result that, though he ran faster than ever for a +time, he must have presently concluded that I didn't +care how fast he went; at all events, he slackened his +pace to a canter, from which, shortly, I managed to +draw him down to a trot and then to a walk.</p> + +<p>I am glad to say that not until now had we met any +vehicle. Even while he was running, even while I was +engaged in maintaining a precarious seat upon his neck, +I had found time to hope fervently that we should not +encounter an automobile. I was afraid that he would +jump it if we did.</p> + +<p>Now, however, I saw a motor approaching. Dr. Bell +saw it, too, and pricked up his ears. Seizing the reins +firmly in one hand, I waved with the other, signalling to +the motorist to stop, which he did, pulling out into the +ditch. Meanwhile I talked to Dr. Bell, patting him on +the neck and telling him to go on and not to be afraid, +because it was all right. Dr. Bell did go on. He went +up to the front of the motor, past the side of it, and +on behind it, without showing the least sign of alarm. +He did not mind it at all. But the man in the motor +minded. Annoyed with me for having stopped him unnecessarily, +he shouted something after me. But I paid +no attention to him. Under the circumstances, it +seemed the only thing to do. I might have gotten off; +I might conceivably have beaten him; but I never could +have held the horse while doing it, or have gotten on +again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently, when I was changing the position of the +reins, which were hurting my fingers because I had +gripped them so tight, I accidentally shifted the gears +in some way, so to speak, sending Dr. Bell off at a pace +which was neither a trot nor a canter, but which carried +us along at a sort of smooth, rapid glide. At first I took +this gait to be a swift trot, and attempted to post to it; +then, as that did not work, I sat still in the saddle and, +finding the posture comfortable, concluded that Dr. Bell +must be single-footing. I had never single-footed before. +Just as I was beginning to like it, however, he +changed to a trot, then back to single-footing again, and +so on, in a curious puzzling manner.</p> + +<p>Except for the changes of gait, we were now going on +rather well, and I had begun, for the first time, to feel +a little security, when all of a sudden he swerved off +and galloped with me up a driveway leading toward a +white house which stood on a hill two or three hundred +yards from the road. Again I tried to stop him, but +when I pulled on the reins he shook his head savagely +from side to side and snorted in a loud and threatening +manner.</p> + +<p>As we neared the house I saw that two ladies were sitting +on the porch regarding our approach with interest. +I hoped that Dr. Bell would find some way of keeping +on past the house and into the fields, but he had no such +intention. Instead of going by, he swung around the +circle before the porch, and stopped at the steps, upon +which the two ladies were sitting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>One of them was a white-haired woman of gentle +mien; the other was a girl of eighteen or twenty with +pretty, mischievous eyes.</p> + +<p>Both the ladies looked up inquiringly as Dr. Bell and +I stopped.</p> + +<p>I lifted my hat. It was the only thing I could think of +to do at the moment. At this they both nodded gravely. +Then we sat and stared at one another.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said the old lady, when the silence had become +embarrassing.</p> + +<p>I felt that I must say something, so I remarked: +"This is a very pretty place you have here."</p> + +<p>At this, though the statement was quite true, they +looked perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Is there any message?" asked the young woman, +after another pause.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," I answered lightly. "I was riding by and +thought I'd take the liberty of coming up and telling +you—telling you that although I am a Northerner and a +stranger here, I love the South, the quaint old Southern +customs, the lovely old houses, the delicious waffles, +the—"</p> + +<p>"That is very gratifying," said she "I am sorry to say +we are all out of waffles at present."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't want any now," I replied politely.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you don't mind my asking, what <i>do</i> you +want?"</p> + +<p>"I want," I said, desperately, "to see your groom for a +moment, if possible."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's gone to town," she replied. "Is there anything +I can do? I see that your stirrup leather is twisted." +With that she arose, came down, removed my foot from +the stirrup, in a businesslike manner, reversed the iron, +and put my foot back for me.</p> + +<p>I thanked her.</p> + +<p>"Anything else?" she asked, her wicked eye twinkling.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," I ventured, "perhaps you know how to +make a horse single-foot?"</p> + +<p>"There are different ways," she said. "With Dr. Bell +you might try using the curb gently, working it from +side to side."</p> + +<p>"I will," I said. "Thank you very much."</p> + +<p>"And," said the girl, "if he ever takes a notion to bolt +with you, or to go up to some house where you don't +want him to go, just touch him with the curb. That +will fix him. He's very soft-bitted."</p> + +<p>"But I tried that," I protested.</p> + +<p>She looked at my reins, then shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "you've got your curb rein and your +snaffle rein mixed."</p> + +<p>"I am very much indebted to you," I said, as I changed +the position of the reins between my fingers.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said she. "I hope you'll get safely back +to the Claymont. If you want to jump him, give him +his head. He'll take off all right."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," I returned. "I don't want to jump him."</p> + +<p>Then lifting my hat and thanking her again, I wiggled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +the curb gently from side to side, as directed, and departed, +singlefooting comfortably.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bell and I got home very nicely. He wanted to +jump the gate again, but I checked him with the curb. +After pulling the rope to open the gate I must have got +the reins mixed once more, for as I was nearing the +house, calm in the feeling that I had mastered the animal, +and intent upon cantering up to the porch in fine +style, Dr. Bell swerved suddenly off to the stable, went +into the door, and, before I could stop him, entered his +stall.</p> + +<p>There I dismounted in absolute privacy. It was +quite easy. I had only to climb on to the partition and +drop down into the next stall, which, by good fortune, +was vacant.</p> + +<p>With a single exception, this was the only riding I did +in the South, and on the one other occasion of which I +speak I did not ride alone, but had, surrounding me, the +entire Eleventh United States Cavalry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /> +<br /> +INTO THE OLD DOMINION</h2> + + +<p>When two men are traveling together on an +equal footing, and it becomes necessary to +decide between two rooms in a hotel, how +is the decision to be made? Which man is to take the +big, bright corner room, and which the little room that +faces on the court and is fragrant of the bakery below? +Or again, which man shall occupy the lower berth in a +Pullman drawing-room, and which shall try to sleep +upon the shelf-like couch? Or when there is but one +lower left, which shall take the upper? If an extra +kit bag be required for the use of both, who shall pay +for it and own it at the journey's end? Who shall pay +for this meal and who for that? Or yet again, if there +be but one cheap heavy overcoat in a shop, and both desire +to own that coat, which one shall have the right of +purchase? Who shall tip the bell boy for bringing up +the bags, or the porter for taking down the trunks? +Who shall take home from a dance the girl both want +to take, and who shall escort the unattractive one who +resides in a remote suburb?</p> + +<p>Between two able-bodied men there is no uncomfortable +complication of politeness in such matters. On a +brief journey there might be, but on a long journey the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +thin veil of factitious courtesy is cast aside; each wants +his fair share of what is best and makes no pretense to +the contrary.</p> + +<p>Upon our first long journey together, some years ago, +my companion and I established a custom of settling +all such questions by matching coins, and we have maintained +this habit ever since. Upon the whole it has +worked well. We have matched for everything except +railroad fares and hotel bills, and though fortune has +sometimes favored one or the other for a time, I believe +that, had we kept accounts, we should find ourselves +to-day practically even.</p> + +<p>Our system of matching has some correlated customs. +Now and then, for instance, when one of us is unlucky +and has been "stuck" for a series of meals, the other, in +partial reparation, will declare a "party." Birthdays +and holidays also call for parties, and sometimes there +will be a party for no particular reason other than that +we feel like having one.</p> + +<p>Two of our parties on this journey have been given in +the basement café of the Shoreham Hotel in Washington. +Both were supper parties. The first I gave in +honor of my companion, for the reason that we both like +the Shoreham café, and that a party seemed to be about +due. That party brought on the other, which occurred +a few nights later and was given by us jointly in honor +of a very beautiful and talented young actress. And +this one, we agree, was, in a way, the most amusing of +all the parties we have had together.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was early in the morning, when we were leaving the +café after the first party, that we encountered the lady +who caused the second one. I had never met her, but I +was aware that my companion knew her, for he talked +about her in his sleep. She was having supper with a +gentleman at a table near the door, and had you seen her +it would be unnecessary for me to tell you that my companion +stopped to speak to her, and that I hung around +until he introduced me.</p> + +<p>After we had stood beside her, for a time, talking and +gazing down into her beautiful world-wise eyes, the +gentleman with whom she was supping took pity upon +us, and upon the waiters, whose passageway we blocked, +and invited us to sit down.</p> + +<p>It was doubly delightful to meet her there in Washington, +for besides being beautiful and celebrated, she +had just come from New York and was able to give us +news of mutual friends, bringing us up to date on suits +for separation, alimony, and alienation of affections, on +divorces and remarriages, and all the little items one +loses track of when one has been away for a fortnight.</p> + +<p>"I shall be playing in Washington all this week," she +said as we were about to leave. "I hope that we may +see each other again."</p> + +<p>Whom did she mean by "we"? True, she looked at +my companion as she spoke, but he was seated at one +side of her and I at the other, and even with such eyes +as hers, she could not have looked at both of us at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +once. Certainly the hope she had expressed was shared +by me. <i>I</i> hoped that "we" might meet again, and it +seemed to me desirable at the moment that she should +understand (and that my companion should be reminded) +that he and I were as Damon and Pythias, as +Castor and Pollux, as Pylades and Orestes, and all that +sort of thing. Therefore I leaped quickly at the word +"we," and, before my companion had time to answer, +replied:</p> + +<p>"I hope so too."</p> + +<p>This brought her eyes to me. She looked surprised, +I thought, but what of that? Don't women like to be +surprised? Don't they like men to be strong, resolute, +determined, like heroes in the moving pictures? Don't +they like to see a man handle matters with dash? I was +determined to be dashing.</p> + +<p>"We are off to Virginia to-morrow morning," I continued. +"We are going to Fredericksburg and Charlottesville, +and into the fox-hunting country. If we +can get back here Saturday night let's have a party."</p> + +<p>I spoke of the hunting country debonairely. I did not +care what she thought my companion was going to the +hunting country for, but I did not wish her to think that +I was going only to look on. On the contrary, I desired +her to suppose that I should presently be wearing a pair +of beautiful, slim-legged riding boots and a pink coat, +and leaping a thoroughbred mount over fences and +gates. I wished her to believe me a wild, reckless, devil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +of a fellow, and to worry throughout the week lest I be +killed in a fall from my horse, and she never see me more—poor +girl!</p> + +<p>That she felt such emotions I have since had reason +to doubt. However, the idea of a party after the play +on Saturday night seemed to appeal to her, and it was +arranged that my companion and I should endeavor to +get back to Washington after the Piedmont Hunt races, +which we were to attend on Saturday afternoon, and +that if we could get back we should telegraph to her.</p> + +<p>We kept our agreement—but I shall come to that +later.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Next morning we took train for Fredericksburg.</p> + +<p>The city manager who runs the town is a good housekeeper; +his streets are wide, pretty, and clean; and +though there are many historic buildings—including +the home of Washington's mother and the house in +which Washington became a Mason—there are enough +good new ones to give the place a progressive look.</p> + +<p>In the days of the State's magnificence Fredericksburg +was the center for all this part of northeastern Virginia, +and particularly for the Rappahannock Valley; +and from pre-Revolutionary times, when tobacco was +legal tender and ministers got roaring drunk, down to +the Civil War, there came rolling into the town the +coaches of the great plantation owners of the region, +who used Fredericksburg as a headquarters for drinking, +gambling, and business. Among these probably the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +most famous was "King" Carter, who not only owned +miles upon miles of land and a thousand slaves, but was +the husband of five (successive) Mrs. Carters.</p> + +<p>Falmouth, a river town a mile above Fredericksburg, +where a few scattered houses stand to-day, was in early +times a busy place. It is said that the first flour mill in +America stood there, and that one Gordon, who made +his money by shipping flour and tobacco direct from his +wharf to England, and bringing back bricks as ballast +for his ships, was the first American millionaire.</p> + +<p>Besides having known intimately such historic figures +as Washington, Monroe, and Robert E. Lee, and having +been the scene of sanguinary fighting in the Civil War, +the neighborhood of Fredericksburg boasts the birth-place +of a man of whom I wish to speak briefly here, for +the reason that he was a great man, that he has been +partially overlooked by history, and that it is said in the +South that the fame which should justly be his has been +deliberately withheld by historians and politicians for +the sole reason that as a naval officer he espoused the +southern cause in the Civil War.</p> + +<p>Every one who has heard of Robert Fulton, certainly +every one who has heard of S. F. B. Morse or Cyrus +W. Field, ought also to have heard of Matthew Fontaine +Maury. But that is not the case. For myself, I +must confess that, until I visited Virginia, I was ignorant +of the fact that such a person had existed; nor +have northern schoolboys, to whom I have spoken of +Maury, so much as heard his name. Yet there is no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +one living in the United States, or in any civilized country, +whose daily life is not affected through the scientific +researches and attainments of this man.</p> + +<p>Maury's claim to fame rests on his eminent services +to navigation and meteorology. If Humboldt's work, +published in 1817, was the first great contribution to +meteorological science, it remained for Maury to make +that science exact.</p> + +<p>While it is perhaps an exaggeration to say that +Maury alone laid the foundation for our present +Weather Bureau, he certainly shares with Professors +Redfield, Espy, Loomis, Joseph Henry, Dr. Increase +Lapham, and others, the honor of having been one of +the first to suggest the feasibility of our present systematic +storm warnings.</p> + +<p>Maury was born in 1806. When nineteen years of +age he secured a midshipman's warrant, and, as there +was no naval academy at Annapolis then, was immediately +assigned to a man-of-war. Within six years he +was master of an American war vessel. Before starting +on a voyage to the Pacific he sought information on +the winds and currents, and finding that it was not available, +determined himself to gather it for general publication. +This he did, issuing a book upon the subject.</p> + +<p>When a broken leg, the result of a stage-coach accident, +caused his retirement from active service at sea, +he continued his studies, and, in recognition of his services +to navigation, was given charge of the Depot of +Charts and Instruments at Washington. There he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +found stored away the log books of American naval +vessels, and from the vast number of observations they +contained, began the compilation of the Wind and Currents +Charts known to all mariners.</p> + +<p>A monograph on Maury, issued by N. W. Ayer & +Son, of Philadelphia, says of these charts:</p> + +<p>"They were, at first, received with indifference and +incredulity. Finally, a Captain Jackson determined to +trust the new chart absolutely. As a result he made +a round trip to Rio de Janeiro in the time often required +for the outward passage alone. Later, four +clipper ships started from New York for San Francisco, +via Cape Horn. These vessels arrived at their +destination in the order determined by the degree of +fidelity with which they had followed the directions of +Maury's charts. The arrival of these ships in San +Francisco marked, likewise, the arrival of Maury's +Wind and Currents Charts in the lasting favor of the +mariners of the world. The average voyage to San +Francisco was reduced, by use of the charts, from one +hundred and eighty-three to one hundred and thirty-five +days, a saving of forty-eight days.</p> + +<p>"Soon after this, the ship <i>San Francisco</i>, with hundreds +of United States troops on board, foundered in +an Atlantic hurricane. The rumor reached port that +there was need of help. Maury was called upon to +indicate her probable location. He set to work to show +where the wind and currents would combine to place +a helpless wreck, and marked the place with a blue pen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>cil. +There the relief was sent, and there the survivors +of the wreck were found. From that day to this, +Maury's word has been accepted without challenge by +the matter-of-fact men of the sea.</p> + +<p>"These charts, only a few in number, are among the +most wonderful and useful productions of the human +mind. One of them combined the result of 1,159,353 +separate observations on the force and direction of the +wind, and upward of 100,000 observations on the height +of the barometer, at sea. As the value of such observations +was recognized, more of them were made. +Through the genius and devotion of one man, Commander +Maury, every ship became a floating observatory, +keeping careful records of winds, currents, limits +of fogs, icebergs, rain areas, temperature, soundings, +etc., while every maritime nation of the world +coöperated in a work that was to redound to the benefit +of commerce and navigation, the increase of knowledge, +the good of all.</p> + +<p>"In 1853, at the instance of Commander Maury, the +United States called the celebrated Brussels Conference +for the coöperation of nations in matters pertaining to +maritime affairs. At this conference, Maury advocated +the extension of the system of meteorological observation +to the land, thus forming a weather bureau +helpful to agriculture. This he urged in papers and +addresses to the close of his life. Our present Weather +Bureau and Signal Service are largely the outcome of +his perception and advocacy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>Maury's "Physical Geography of the Sea," the work +by which he is best known, was published in 1855. He +discovered, among other things, the causes of the Gulf +Stream, and the existence of the still-water plateau of +the North Atlantic which made possible the laying of +the first cable. Cyrus W. Field said, with reference to +Maury's work in this connection: "Maury furnished +the brains, England gave the money, and I did the work."</p> + +<p>Maury was decorated by many foreign governments +but not by his own. Owing, it is said, to his having +taken up the Confederate cause, national honors were +withheld from him, not only during the remainder of his +life, but until 1916, when one of the large buildings at +the Naval Academy—the establishment of which, by the +way, Maury was one of the first to advocate—was +named for him, and Congress passed a bill appropriating +funds for the erection of a monument to the "Pathfinder +of the Sea," in Washington.</p> + +<p>Maury died in 1873, one of the most loved and honored +men in the State of Virginia.</p> + +<p>It is recorded that, near the end, he asked his son: +"Am I dragging my anchors?"</p> + +<p>And when the latter replied in the affirmative, the +father gave a brave sailor's answer:</p> + +<p>"All's well," he said.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Across the river from Fredericksburg stands Chatham, +the old Fitzhugh house, one of the most charming of +early Virginian mansions. Chatham was built in 1728,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +and it is thought that the plans for it were drawn by +Sir Christopher Wren at the order of William Pitt, +Earl of Chatham, and sent by the latter to William +Fitzhugh, who had been his classmate at Eton and Oxford. +Not only does the name of the house lend color +to the tale, but so do its proportions, which are very +beautiful, reminding one somewhat of those of Doughoregan +Manor. Chatham, however, has the advantage +of being (as the Hon. Charles Augustus Murray wrote +of it in his quaint "Travels in North America," published +in 1839) "situated on an eminence commanding +a view of the town, and of the bold, sweeping course +of the Rappahannoc." Murray also tells of the beautiful +garden, with its great box trees and its huge slave-built +terraces, stepping down to the water like a giant's +stairway.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p148jpg" id="p148jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p148.jpg" width="600" height="374" alt="Chatham, the old Fitzhugh house, now the residence of Mark Sullivan. Washington, Madison, Monroe, Washington +Irving, Lee and Lincoln have known the shelter of its roof" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Chatham, the old Fitzhugh house, now the residence of Mark Sullivan. Washington, Madison, Monroe, Washington +Irving, Lee and Lincoln have known the shelter of its roof</span> +</div> + +<p>In this house my companion and I were guests, and +as I won the toss for the choice of rooms, mine was the +privilege of sleeping in the historic west bedchamber, +the principal guest room, and of opening my eyes, in the +morning, upon a lovely wall all paneled in white-painted +wood.</p> + +<p>I shall always remember the delightful experience +of awakening in that room, so vast, dignified, and beautiful, +and of lying there a little drowsy, and thinking of +those who had been there before me. This was the +room occupied by George and Martha Washington when +they stopped for a few days at Chatham on their wedding +journey; this was the room occupied by Madison,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +by Monroe, by Washington Irving, and by Robert E. +Lee when he visited Chatham and courted Mary Custis, +who became his wife. And, most wonderful of all to +me, this was the room occupied by Lincoln when he came +to Fredericksburg to review the army, while Chatham +was Union headquarters, and the embattled Lee had +headquarters in the old house known as Brompton, still +standing on Marye's Heights back of the river and the +town. It is said that Lee during the siege of Fredericksburg +never trained his guns on Chatham, because +of his sentiment for the place. As I lay there in the +morning I wondered if Lee had been aware, at the time, +that Lincoln was under the roof of Chatham, and +whether Lincoln knew, when he slept in "my" room, +that Washington and Lee had both been there before +him.</p> + +<p>War, I thought, not only makes strange bedfellows, +but strange combinations in the histories of bedrooms.</p> + +<p>Then the maid rapped for the second time upon my +door, and though this time I got up at once, my ruminations +made me scandalously late for breakfast.</p> + +<p>After breakfast came the motor, which was to take us +to the battlefields, its driver a thin dry-looking, dry-talking +man, with the air of one a little tired of the +story he told to tourists day in and day out, yet conscientiously +resolved to go through with it. Before the +huge cemetery which overlooks the site of the most violent +fighting that occurred in the bloody and useless +Battle of Fredericksburg, he paused briefly; then drove<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +us to the field of Chancellorsville, to that of the Battles +of the Wilderness, and finally to the region of Spottsylvania +Courthouse; and at each important spot he stopped +and told us what had happened there. He knew all +about the Civil War, that man, and he had a way of +passing out his information with a calm assumption that +his hearers knew nothing about it whatever. This +irritated my companion, who also knows all about the +War, having once passed three days in the neighborhood +of a Soldiers' Home. Consequently he kept cutting +in, supplying additional details—such, for instance, +as that Stonewall Jackson, who died in a house which +the driver pointed out, was shot by some of his own men, +who took him for a Yankee as he was returning from a +reconnaissance.</p> + +<p>Either one of these competitive historians alone, I +could have stood, but the way they picked each other +up, fighting the old-time battles over again, got on my +nerves. Besides, it was cold, and as I have taken occasion +to remark before, I do not like cold motor rides. +Indeed, as I think it over, it seems to me I do not like +battlefields, either. At all events, I became more and +more morose as we traversed that bleak Virginia landscape, +and I am afraid that before the day was over I +was downright sulky.</p> + +<p>As we drove back to Fredericksburg and to the train +which was to take us to Charlottesville, my companion +made remarks of a general character about people who +were trivial minded, and who didn't take a proper in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>terest +in the scenes of great historical occurrences. +When he had continued for some time in this vein, I +remarked feebly that I loved to read about battles; but +that, far from mitigating his severity, only caused him +to change his theme. He said that physical laziness +was a terrible thing because it not only made the body +soft but by degrees softened the brain, as well. He +said that when people didn't want to see battlefields, +preferring to lie in bed and read about them, that was +a sign of the beginning of the end.</p> + +<p>On various occasions throughout the week he brought +this subject up again, and I was glad indeed when, as +the time for our party with the beautiful young actress, +in Washington, drew near, he began to forget about +my shortcomings and think of more agreeable things.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /> +<br /> +CHARLOTTESVILLE AND MONTICELLO</h2> + + +<p>When Virginians speak of "the university," +they do not mean Harvard, Princeton, Yale, +or even Washington and Lee, but always the +University of Virginia, which is at Charlottesville.</p> + +<p>The city of Charlottesville, in its downtown parts, is +no more and no less dingy and dismal than many another +town of six or seven thousand inhabitants, be it +North or South. It has a long main street, lined with +little shops and moving-picture shows, and the theatrical +posters which thrill one at first sight with hopes of evening +entertainment, prove, on inspection, to have survived +long after the "show" they advertise has come and +gone, or else to presage the "show" that is coming for +one night, week after next.</p> + +<p>Nor is this scarcity of theatrical entertainment confined +alone to small towns of the South. Not all important +stars and important theatrical productions visit +even the largest cities, for the South is not regarded +by theatrical managers as particularly profitable territory. +It would be interesting to know whether anæmia +of the theater in the South, as well as the falling off +generally of theatergoing in lesser American cities<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>—usually +attributed to the popularity and cheapness of the +"movies"—is not due in large measure to the folly of +managers themselves in sending out inferior companies. +Any one who has seen a theatrical entertainment +in New York and seen it later "on the road" is +likely to be struck by the fact that even the larger American +cities do not always get the full New York cast, +while smaller cities seldom if ever get any part of it. +The South suffers particularly in this respect. The +little "river shows," which arrive now and then in river +towns, and which are more or less characteristic of the +South, have the excuse of real picturesqueness, however +bad the entertainment given, for the players live and +have their theater on flatboats, which tie up at the +wharf. But the plain fact about the ordinary little +southern "road show" is that it does not deserve to +make money.</p> + +<p>The life of a poor player touring the South must be +very wretched, for generally, excepting in large cities, +hotels are poor. Before we had gone far upon our way, +my companion and I learned to inquire carefully in +advance as to the best hotels, and when we found in +any small city one which was not a fire trap, and which +was clean, we were surprised, while if the service was +fairly good, and the meals were not very bad, we considered +it a matter for rejoicing.</p> + +<p>We were advised to stop, in Charlottesville, at the +New Gleason, and when we alighted at the dingy old +brick railroad station—a station quite as unprepossess<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>ing +as that at New Haven, Connecticut—we began to +feel that all was not for the best. A large gray horse +hitched to the hack in which we rode to the Gleason evidently +felt the same, for at first he balked, and later tried +to run away.</p> + +<p>The hotel lobby was a perfect example of its kind. +There were several drummers writing at the little desks, +and several more sitting idly in chairs adjacent to brass +cuspidors. All of them looked despondent with a despondency +suggesting pie for breakfast. Behind the +desk was a sleepy-looking old clerk who, as we arrived, +was very busy over a financial transaction involving +change of ownership in a two-cent stamp. This enterprise +concluded, he assigned us rooms.</p> + +<p>Never have I wished to win the toss for rooms as I +wished it when I saw the two allotted to us, for though +the larger one could not by a flight of fancy be termed +cheerful, the sight of the lesser chamber filled me with +thoughts of madness.</p> + +<p>Of course I lost.</p> + +<p>Never shall I forget that room. It was too small to +accommodate my trunks with any comfort, so I left them +downstairs with the porter, descending, now and then, +to get such articles as I required. The furniture, what +there was of it, was of yellow pine; the top of the +dresser was scarred with the marks of many glasses and +many bottles; the lace window curtains were long, hard +and of a wiry stiffness, and the wall-paper was of a +scrambled pattern all in bilious brown. During the eve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>ning +I persuaded my companion to walk with me through +the town, and once I got him out I kept him going on and +on through shadowy streets unknown to us, until, exhausted, +he insisted upon returning to our hostelry. I +fancy that there are picturesque old houses on the outskirts +of the town, but with that wall paper and a terrible +nostalgia occupying my mind, I was in no state to judge +of what was there.</p> + +<p>On reaching the hotel my companion went to bed, but +I remained until late in the office, writing letters, doing +anything rather than go up to my room. When +at last I did ascend I planned to read, but the arrangement +of the light was bad, so presently I put it out and +lay there sleepless and miserable, thinking of foolish +things that I have said and done during a life rich with +such items, and having chills and fever over each separate +recollection. How I drifted off to sleep at last I +do not know; all I remember is waking up next morning, +leaping out of bed and dressing in frantic haste to get +out of my room. There was but one thing in it which +did not utterly offend the eye: that was the steam pipe +which ascended from floor to ceiling at one corner, and +which, being a simple, honest metal tube, was not objectionable.</p> + +<p>As we passed through the office on our way to breakfast, +the bus man entered, and in a loud, retarded chant +proclaimed: "Train for the South!"</p> + +<p>The impressive tones in which this announcement was +delivered seemed to call for a sudden stir, a rush for bags<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +and coats, a general exodus, but no one in the office +moved, and I remember feeling sorry for the bus man as +he turned and went out in the midst of a crushing anti-climax.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," I said to my companion, "if anybody ever +gets up and goes when that man calls out the trains."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe so," he replied. "I don't think he +calls trains for any such purpose. He only warns people +so they will expect to hear the train, and not be frightened +when it goes through."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Thomas Jefferson is most widely remembered, I suppose, +as the author of the Declaration of Independence, +the third President, the purchaser of Louisiana, and the +unfortunate individual upon whom the Democratic party +casts the blame for its existence, precisely as the Republican +party blames itself on Washington and Lincoln—although +the lamentable state into which both parties +have fallen is actually the fault of living men.</p> + +<p>It is significant, however, that of this trio of Jeffersonian +items, Jefferson himself selected but one to be +included in the inscription which he wrote for his tombstone—a +modest obelisk on the grounds at Monticello. +The inscription mentions but three of his achievements: +the authorship of the Declaration, that of the Virginia +statute for religious freedom, and the fact that he was +"Father of the University of Virginia."</p> + +<p>Regardless of other accomplishments, the man who +built the university and the house at Monticello was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +great. It is more true of these buildings than of any +others I have seen that they are the autobiography, in +brick and stone, of their architect. To see them, to see +some of the exquisitely margined manuscript in Jefferson's +clean handwriting, preserved in the university library, +and to read the Declaration, is to gain a grasp of +certain sides of Jefferson's nature which can be achieved +in no other way.</p> + +<p>Monticello stands on a lofty hilltop, with vistas, between +trees, of neighboring valleys, hills, and mountains. +It is a supremely lovely house, unlike any other, +and, while it is too much to say that one would recognize +it as the house of the writer of the Declaration, it is not +too much to say that, once one does know it, one can trace +a clear affinity resulting from a common origin—an +affinity much more apparent, by the way, than may be +traced between the work of Michelangelo on St. Peter's +at Rome, on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and in his +"David."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 520px;"> +<a name="p157jpg" id="p157jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p157.jpg" width="520" height="600" alt="Monticello stands on a lofty hilltop, with vistas, between trees of neighboring +valleys, hills, and mountains" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Monticello stands on a lofty hilltop, with vistas, between trees of neighboring +valleys, hills, and mountains</span> +</div> + +<p>The introductory paragraph to the Declaration +ascends into the body of the document as gracefully and +as certainly as the wide flights of easy steps ascend to +the doors of Monticello; the long and beautifully balanced +paragraph which follows, building word upon +word and sentence upon sentence into a central statement, +has a form as definite and graceful as that of the +finely proportioned house; the numbered paragraphs +which follow, setting forth separate details, are like +rooms within the house, and—I have just come upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +coincidence with a pleasant start such as might be felt by +the discoverer of some complex and important cipher—as +there are twenty-seven of the numbered paragraphs +in the Declaration, so there are twenty-seven rooms in +Monticello. Last of all there are two little phrases in +the Declaration (the phrases stating that we shall hold +our British brethren in future as we hold the rest of +mankind—"enemies in war; in peace, friends"), which +I would liken to the small twin buildings, one of them +Jefferson's office, the other that of the overseer, which +stand on either side of the lawn at Monticello, at some +distance from the house. These office buildings face, +and balance upon each other, and upon the mansion, but +they are so much smaller that to put them there required +daring, while to make them "compose" (as painters say) +with the great house, required the almost superhuman +sense of symmetry which Jefferson assuredly possessed.</p> + +<p>The present owner of Monticello is Mr. Jefferson +Monroe Levy, former United States congressman from +New York. Mr. Levy is a Democrat and a bachelor, according +to the Congressional Directory, which states +further that he inherited Monticello from an uncle, Commodore +Uriah P. Levy, U. S. N., and that the latter purchased +the place in 1830 "at the suggestion of President +Jackson."</p> + +<p>Dorothy Dix, writing in "Good Housekeeping," tells +a tale which I have heard repeatedly of the acquisition +of Monticello by Uriah Levy. Says Miss Dix:</p> + +<p>"Monticello was sold to a stranger, and Jefferson's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +only daughter, Mrs. Randolph, widowed and with eleven +children, was left homeless.... A subscription of three +thousand dollars was raised ... to buy back the house ... +and this money was intrusted to a young relative of +the Jeffersons' to convey to Charlottesville. Traveling +in the stagecoach with the young man was Captain +Uriah P. Levy, to whom he confided his mission. The +young man became intoxicated and dallied, but Captain +Levy hastened on to Charlottesville, and purchased +Monticello for two thousand five hundred dollars. The +next day the repentant and sober young man arrived and +besought Captain Levy to take the three thousand dollars ... +and let Monticello go back to the Jefferson +family. Captain Levy refused to part with his bargain, +but at his death he willed Monticello to 'the people of +the United States to be held as a memorial of Thomas +Jefferson'.... The Levy heirs contested the will, and it +was finally decided upon a technicality that 'the people of +the United States' was too indefinite a term to make the +bequest binding, and the estate passed into the hands of +the Levys, and so to its present owner...."</p> + +<p>In a biographical note upon the latter, the Congressional +Directory states that the house is "kept open to +the public all the year." My companion and I were admitted +to the grounds, but were informed that, though +the building was unoccupied, no one was permitted to +enter. While we were in the vicinity of the house we +were attended by one of the men employed on the place, +who told us that when people were allowed to roam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +about at will, there had been much vandalism; ivy had +been pulled from the walls, shrubbery broken, pieces of +brick chipped out of the steps, and teeth knocked from +the heads of the marble lions which flank them.</p> + +<p>Of recent years there has been on foot a movement, +launched, I believe, by Mrs. Martin W. Littleton, of New +York, to influence the Government to purchase Monticello +from its present owner. It is difficult to see precisely +how Mr. Levy could be forced to part with his +property, if he did not wish to. Nevertheless public +sentiment on this subject has become so strong that he +has agreed to let the Government have Monticello "at a +price"—so, at least, I was informed in Charlottesville.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV<br /> +<br /> +THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The opening of the University of Virginia was an event of prime importance +for the higher education in the whole country, and really marks +a new era.</p></div> + +<p class="smcap signature">—Charles Forster Smith.</p> + + +<p>Like Monticello, the buildings of the University +of Virginia are those of an intellectual, a classicist, +a purist, and, like it, they might have been +austere but for the warmth of their red brick and the +glow of their white-columned porticos. But they are +cheerful buildings, which, individually and as a group, +attain a geometrical yet soft perfection, a supreme harmony +of form and color.</p> + +<p>The principal buildings are grouped about a large +campus, called the Lawn, which is dominated by the rotunda, +suggesting in its outlines the Pantheon at Rome. +From the rotunda, at either side, starts a white-columned +arcade connecting the various houses which are distributed +at graceful intervals along the margins of the +rectangular lawn, above which loom the tops of even +rows of beautiful old trees. Flanking the buildings of +the lawn, and reached by brick walks which pass between +the famous serpentine walls (walls but one brick +thick which support themselves on the snake-fence principle, +by progressing in a series of reverse curves), are +the "ranges": solid rows of one-story student dormito<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>ries +built of brick and fronted by colonnades which command +other lawns and other trees.</p> + +<p>With a single exception, restorations and additions to +the university have been made with reverence and taste, +and the Brooks Museum, the one architectural horror of +the place, fortunately does not stand upon the lawn. +Since it is said that beauty could not exist were there not +ugliness for contrast, this building may have its uses; +certainly, after a glance at it, one looks back with renewed +delight at the structures of the central group.</p> + +<p>Most superb of all, always there hangs at night, above +the buildings and the tree-tops, a glorious full moon. +At least I suppose it always hangs there, for though it +seemed to us very wonderful, every one else seemed used +to it.</p> + +<p>Like Venice, the University of Virginia should first +be seen by moonlight. There could not have been a +finer moonlit night, I thought, than that cold, crisp one +upon which my companion stood for two hours beside +the rotunda, gazing at the lawn and drawing it, its frosty +grass and trees decked with diamonds, its white columns +standing out softly from their shadow backgrounds like +phosphorescent ghosts in the luminous blue darkness. +Until I was nearly frozen I stayed there with him. +That drawing cost him one of the worst colds he ever +had.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p168jpg" id="p168jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p168.jpg" width="600" height="474" alt="Like Venice, the University of Virginia should first be seen by moonlight" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Like Venice, the University of Virginia should first be seen by moonlight</span> +</div> + +<p>The university ought to have, and has, many traditions, +and life there ought to be, and is, different from +life in any other college. Jefferson brought from Italy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +the men who carved the capitals of the columns (the descendants +of some of these Italian workmen live in +Charlottesville to-day), and when the columns were in +place he brought from Europe the professors to form +the faculty, creating what was practically a small English +university in the United States. Never until, a +dozen years ago, Dr. E. A. Alderman became president, +had there been such an office; before that time the university +had a rector, and the duties of president were +performed by a chairman of the faculty, elected by the +faculty from among its members. This was the first +university to adopt the elective system, permitting the +students, as Jefferson wrote, "uncontrolled choice in the +lectures they shall attend," instead of prescribing one course +of reading for all. No less important, the +University of Virginia was the first college to introduce +(1842) the honor system, and still has the most complete +honor system to be found among American colleges. +This system is an outgrowth of the Jeffersonian +idea of student self-government; under it each +student signs, with examination papers, a pledge that +he has neither given nor received assistance. That is +found sufficient; students are not watched, nor need +they be. With time this system has been extended, +so that it now covers not only examinations, but many +departments of college life, eliminating professionalism +in athletics and plagiarism in literary work, and resulting +in a delightful mutual confidence between the student +body and the faculty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>Madison and Monroe were active members of the +university's first board of visitors; the first college Y. M. C. A. +was started there; and among many famous men +who have attended the university may be mentioned Edgar +Allan Poe, Thomas Nelson Page, and Thomas +Woodrow Wilson, whose name appears thus upon the +"University Magazine" for 1879-80, as one of its three +editors. The ill-starred Poe attended the university for +only one year, at the end of which time his adopted +father, Mr. Allan, of Richmond, withdrew him because +of debts he had contracted while acquiring his education +in gambling and drinking champagne. Poe's former +room, No. 13 West Range, is now the office of the +magazine.</p> + +<p>The clean, lovely manuscript in Jefferson's handwriting, +of the first Anglo-Saxon grammar written in the +United States, is to be seen in the university library; +Jefferson was Vice-President of the United States when +he wrote it; he put Anglo-Saxon in the first curriculum +of the university, and it has been taught there ever since. +In a note which is a part of the manuscript, he advocates +the study of Anglo-Saxon as an introduction to modern +English on the ground that though about half the words +in our present language are derived from Latin and +Greek, these being the scholarly words, the other half, +the words we use most often, are Anglo-Saxon.</p> + +<p>Before the war it was not uncommon for students at +the university to have their negro body servants with +them, and it has occasionally happened since that some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +young sprig of southern aristocracy has come to college +thus attended.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the most striking and characteristic feature +of student life to-day, from the point of view of the +stray visitor, is the formal attitude of students toward +one another. There is no easy-going casualness +between them, no calling back and forth, no "hello," by +way of greeting. They pass each other on the walks +either without speaking (men have been punished at +the university by being ignored by the entire student +body), or if they do greet each other the customary +salutation is "How are you, sir?" or "How are you, +gentlemen?" First-year men are expected to wear hats, +and not to speak to upper classmen until they have been +spoken to; and, though there is no hazing at the university, +woe betide them if they do not heed these rules.</p> + +<p>In the early days of the university there was an effort +to exercise restraint over students, to make them account +for their goings and comings, and to prevent their going +to taverns or betting upon horse races. Also they were +obliged to wear a uniform. The severity was so great +that they appealed to Jefferson, who sided with them. +He, however, died in the same year, and friction prevailed +for perhaps a decade longer, with many student +disorders, culminating in the shooting of a professor by +a student. In 1840 the students were at last granted full +freedom, and two years later the honor system was +adopted.</p> + +<p>During the university's first years young men from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +the far South, where dueling was especially prevalent, +did not come in large numbers to the University of Virginia, +but went, as a rule, to the northern colleges, +but about the middle of the century, as feeling between +North and South over taxation, States' Rights +and slavery became more acute, these men began to flock +to the college at Charlottesville. Between 1850 and +1860 the university almost doubled in size, and at about +the same time there developed a good deal of dueling between +students.</p> + +<p>When the War ended many men who had gone into +the Confederate army at sixteen or seventeen years of +age came to Charlottesville to complete their education. +The hard life of the army had made some of these into a +wild lot, and there was a great deal of gambling and +drinking during their time, and also after it, for several +succeeding generations of students looked up to the ex-soldiers +as heroes, and carried on the unfortunate traditions +left by them at the university. In the nineties, +however, a change came, and though there is still some +drinking and gambling, it is doubtful whether such vices +are now more prevalent at the University of Virginia +than at many other colleges. The honor system has +never been extended to cover these points.</p> + +<p>It is related that, in Poe's time, gambling became such +a serious obstacle to discipline and work that the university +authorities set the town marshal after a score or +so of gambling students, Poe among them, whereupon +these students fled to the Ragged Mountains, near by,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +and remained for two weeks, during which time Poe is +said to have mightily entertained them with stories and +prophecies, including a forecast of the Civil War, in +which, he declared, two of the youths present would fight +on opposite sides.</p> + +<p>The Poe tradition is kept vigorously alive at the university. +Not long ago a member of the Raven Society, +one of the rather too numerous student organizations, +discovered the burial place of Poe's mother, who was +an actress, and who died penniless in Richmond at the +age of twenty-four and was buried with the destitute. +By a happy inspiration a fund was raised among the +students for the erection of a monument to her—an example +of fine and chivalrous sentiment on the part of +these young men, which, one feels, is somehow delicately +intertwined with the traditions of the honor system.</p> + +<p>The Poe professor of English at the university, when +we were there, was Dr. C. Alphonso Smith, who has +since taken the professorship of English at the United +States Naval Academy. By a coincidence which has +proved a happy one for those who love the stories of the +late Sidney Porter (O. Henry), Dr. Smith grew up +as a boy with Porter, in Greensboro, North Carolina. +Because of this, and also because of Dr. Smith's own +gifts as a writer and an analyst, it is peculiarly fitting +that he should have undertaken the work which has occupied +him for several years past, the result of which +has recently been given to us in the form "The O. Henry +Biography."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dr. Smith was Roosevelt exchange professor at the +University of Berlin in 1910-11, holding the chair of +American History and Institutions. While occupying +that professorship he met the Kaiser.</p> + +<p>"I talked with him twice," he said, "and upon the +second occasion under very delightful circumstances, +for I was invited to dinner at the Palace at Potsdam, and +was the only guest, the Kaiser, Kaiserin, and Princess +Victoria Luise being present.</p> + +<p>"The Kaiser is, of course, a very magnetic man. +His eyes are his most remarkable feature. They are +very large, brilliant, and sparkling, and he rolls them +in a manner most unusual. While he is always the +king and the soldier, he can be genial and charming. +One might expect a man in his position to be blasé, but +that, most of all, is what he is not. He is like a boy +in his vitality and vividness, and he has a great and persistent +intellectual curiosity. It is this, I think, which +used to cause him to be compared with Colonel Roosevelt. +Both would like to know all things, and both have +had, and have exercised more, perhaps, than any other +two living men, the power to bring to themselves the +central figures in all manner of world events, and thus +learn at first hand, from acknowledged authorities, about +the subjects that interest them—which is to say, everything.</p> + +<p>"He frankly admired America. I don't mean that +he said so for the sake of courtesy to me, but that he +has—or did have, then—an immense and rather roman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>tic +interest in this country. A great many Germans +used to resent this trait in him. America held in his +mind the same romantic position that the idea of +monarchy did in the minds of some of us. I mean that +the average American went for romance to stories of +monarchy, but that the Kaiser, being used to the monarchial +idea, found his romance over here. (I am, of +course, speaking of him as he was five or six years ago.) +He wished to come to America, but was never able to do +so, since German law forbids it. And, perhaps because +he could not come, America was the more a sort of +dream to him.</p> + +<p>"He asked me about some of the things in Berlin +which I had noticed as being different from things at +home, and when I mentioned the way that history was +kept alive in the very streets of Berlin, his eyes danced, +and he said that was one of the things he had tried +to accomplish by the erection of the numerous monuments +which have been placed in Berlin during his reign. +He told me of other means by which history was kept +alive in Germany: among them that every officer has +to know in detail the history of his regiment, and that +German regiments always celebrate the anniversaries of +their great days.</p> + +<p>"He speaks English without an accent, though we +might say that he spoke it with an English accent. He +told me that he had learned English before he learned +German, and had also caused his children to learn it +first. He reads Mark Twain, or had read him, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +enjoyed him, but he said that when he met Mark Twain +the latter had little or nothing to say, and that it was +only with the greatest difficulty that he got him to talk +at all. He subscribed, he told me, to 'Harper's Magazine,' +and he was in the habit of reading short stories +aloud to his family, in English. He admired the American +short story, and I remember that he declared: +'The Americans know how to plunge into a short story. +We Germans are too long-winded.'"</p> + +<p>When Professor Smith talks about the Kaiser, you +say to yourself: "I know that it is growing late, but +I cannot bear to leave until I have heard the rest of +this"; when he drifts presently to O. Henry, you say +the same; and so it is always, no matter what his subject. +At last, however, the grandfather's clock in the +hall below his study sends up a stern message which is +not to be mistaken, whereupon you arise reluctantly +from your comfortable chair, spill the cigar ashes out of +your lap onto the rug, dust off your clothing, and take +your leave. Nor is your regret at departing lessened +by the fact that you must go to your bilious-colored +bedroom in the New Gleason, and that you will not see +the university, or Professor C. Alphonso Smith, or Mrs. +Smith again, because you are leaving upon the morrow.</p> + +<p>So it must always be with the itinerant illustrator and +writer. They are forever finding new and lovely scenes +only to leave them; forever making new and charming +friends only to part with them, faring forth again into +the unknown.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /> +<br /> +FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Better to hunt in fields for health unbought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wise for cure on exercise depend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God never made his work for man to mend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Dryden.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>It is my impression that the dining-car conductor on +the Chesapeake & Ohio train by which we left +Charlottesville was puzzled when I asked his name; +but if he sees this and remembers the incident he will +now know that I did so because I wished here to mention +him as a humane citizen. His name is C. G. +Mitchell, and he was so accommodating as to serve a +light meal, after hours, when he did not have to, to two +hungry men who needed it. If travel has taught my +companion and me anything, it has taught us that not +all dining-car conductors are like that. Nor, I judge, +can all dining-car conductors play the violin, pleasantly, +in off hours, as does Mr. Mitchell. Better one merciful +dining-car conductor than twenty who wear white carnations +at their left lapels, but wear no hearts below +them!</p> + +<p>The road by which we drove from the railroad +into the fastnesses of Loudon County, where, near the +little settlement of Upperville, the race meet of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +Piedmont Hunt was to be held, suggested other times +and other manners, for though we rode in a motor car, +and though we passed another now and then, machines +were far outnumbered by the horses which, under saddle, +or hitched to buggies, surreys, and carts of all descriptions, +were heading toward the meeting place.</p> + +<p>On these roads, one felt, the motor was an outsider; +this was the kingdom of the horse that we were visiting; +soft dirt roads were there for him to trot and +gallop on, and fences of wood or stone, free from barbed +wire, were everywhere, for him to jump.</p> + +<p>Throughout the week we had looked forward to this +day, and even more, perhaps, to the party which, if we +could get back to Washington that night, was to follow +it; wherefore the first thing we did on reaching a place +where information was obtainable was to inquire about +facilities for leaving. Herein my companion had the +advantage of me, for there was nothing to prevent his +departing immediately after the races, whereas I must +remain behind for an hour or two, to learn something of +fox-hunting as practised in this region.</p> + +<p>By motoring immediately after the races to a neighboring +town—Bluemont if I remember rightly—and +there taking an interurban trolley to some other place, +and changing cars, and going without his dinner, my +companion found that he could get to Washington by +nine o'clock. My case was different. Should I be delayed +more than two hours I could not get away at all +that night, but must miss the much anticipated party<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +altogether; and, though my companion seemed to view +this possibility with perfect equanimity, my memories +of the charming lady whom we were to meet at the +stage door, after the performance, were too clear to +permit of indifference in me. The trolley my companion +meant to catch was, however, the last one; my +only hope, therefore, was to motor a distance of perhaps +a dozen miles, over roads which I was frankly +told were "middling to bad," and try to catch a train +at The Plains station. If I missed this train, I was lost, +and must spend a solitary night in such a room as I +might be able to find in a strange village. That possibility +did not appeal to me. I began to wish that there +was no such thing as fox-hunting, or that, there being +such a thing, I had chosen to ignore it.</p> + +<p>"Now," said my companion cheerfully, "we'll telegraph +her."</p> + +<p>At a telegraph office he seized the pencil and wrote +the following message:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Will call for you to-night after performance.</i></p></div> + +<p>To this he signed his own name.</p> + +<p>"What about me?" I suggested, after glancing over +his shoulder at the message.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said he, "there's no use in going into all +that in a telegram. It's sufficient to let her know that +one of us is coming."</p> + +<p>"But I proposed this party."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," he gave in, with an air of pained patience, +"what shall I say, then? Shall I add that you are unavoidably +detained?"</p> + +<p>"Not by a jugful!" I returned. "Add that I hope to +get there too, and will make every effort to do so."</p> + +<p>He wrote it out, sighing as he did so. Then, by careful +cutting, he got it down to fourteen words. By that +time the operator couldn't read it, so he wrote it out +again—gloomily.</p> + +<p>This accomplished, we matched coins to see who +should pay for the message. He lost.</p> + +<p>"All right!" he said. "I'll pay for it, but it's all foolishness +to send such a long telegram."</p> + +<p>"No," I returned, as we left the office and got into the +machine, "it is not foolishness. If I can make life a +little brighter for a beautiful woman, by adding a few +words to a telegram, and sticking you for it, I shall do it +every time."</p> + +<p>He looked away over the fields and did not answer +me. So we drove on in silence to where stands the beautiful +manor house called Huntland, which is the residence +of Mr. Joseph B. Thomas, M. F. H. of the Piedmont +Hunt.</p> + +<p>There is, I have been told, no important hunt in the +United States in which the master of foxhounds is not +the chief financial supporter, the sport being a very +costly one. Of American hunts, the Middlesex, in Massachusetts, +of which Mr. A. Henry Higginson is M. F. H., +has the reputation of being the best appointed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +The Piedmont Hunt is, however, one of the half dozen +leading organizations of the kind, and it is difficult indeed +to imagine a finer.</p> + +<p>In a well-kept park near Mr. Thomas's house stand +extensive English-looking buildings of brick and +stucco, which, viewed from a distance, suggest a beautiful +country house, and which, visited, teach one that +certain favored hounds and horses in this world live +much better than certain human beings. One building +is given over to the kennels, the other the stables; each +has a large sunlit court, and each is as beautiful and +as clean as a fine house—a house full of trophies, hunting +equipment, and the pleasant smell of well-cared-for +saddlery. In a rolling meadow, not far distant, is the +race course, all green turf, and here, soon after luncheon, +gathered an extraordinary diversified crowd.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p180jpg" id="p180jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p180.jpg" width="600" height="462" alt="One party was stationed on the top of an old-time mail-coach bearing the significant initials "F. F. V."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">One party was stationed on the top of an old-time mail-coach bearing the significant initials "F. F. V."</span> +</div> + +<p>For the most part the crowd was a fashionable one: +men and women of the type whose photographs appear +in "Vogue" and "Vanity Fair," and whose costumes +were like fashion suggestions for "sport clothes" in +those publications. One party was stationed on the +top of an old-time mail coach, the boot of which bore +the significant initials "F. F. V."—standing, as even +benighted Northerners must be aware, for "First Families +of Virginia"; others were in a line of motors +and heterogeneous horse-drawn vehicles, parked beside +the course; and scattered through the gathering, like +brushmarks on an impressionist canvas, one saw the +brilliant color of pink coats. Handsome hunters were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +being ridden or led about by negro grooms, and others +kept arriving, ridden in by farmers and breeders, while +here and there one saw a woman rider, her hair tightly +drawn back under a mannish derby hat, her figure +slender and graceful in a severely-cut habit coat. +Jumbled together in a great green meadow under a +sweet autumnal sun, these things made a picture of +what, I am persuaded, is the ultimate in extravagant +American country life. There was something, too, +about this blending of fashionables and farmers, which +made me think of the theater; for there is, in truth, a +distinct note of histrionism about many of the rich +Americans who "go in for" elaborate ruralness, and there +is a touch of it very often, also, about "horsey" people. +They like to "look the part," and they dress it with no +less care than they exercise, at other seasons, in dressing +the parts of opera-going cosmopolites, or wealthy +loungers at the beaches. In other words, these fashionables +had the overtrained New York look all over +them, and the local rustics set them off as effectively +as the villainous young squire of the Drury Lane +melodrama is set off by contrast with honest old Jasper, +the miller, who wears a smock, and comes to the +Great House to beg the Young Master to "make an +honest woman" of poor Rose, the fairest lass in all +Hampshire.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p189jpg" id="p189jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p189.jpg" width="600" height="390" alt="The Piedmont Hunt Race Meet—There is a distinct note of histrionism about many of the rich Americans who +"go in for" elaborate ruralness, and there is a touch of it, also, about ultra-"horsey" people" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Piedmont Hunt Race Meet—There is a distinct note of histrionism about many of the rich Americans who +"go in for" elaborate ruralness, and there is a touch of it, also, about ultra-"horsey" people</span> +</div> + +<p>About the races themselves there was something fascinatingly +nonprofessional. They bore the same relation +to great races on great tracks that a very fine perform<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>ance +of a play by amateurs might bear to a professional +performance.</p> + +<p>First came a two-mile steeplechase, with brush +hurdles. Then, after a couple of minor events, a four-mile +point-to-point race for hunters ridden by gentlemen +in hunt uniform. This was as stiff a race for +both horses and riders as I have ever seen, and it was +very picturesque to watch the pink coats careering up +hill and down dale, now over a tall stone wall, now over +a brook or a snake fence; and when a rider went head +over heels, and lay still upon the ground where he fell, +while his horse cantered along after the field, in that +aimless and pathetic way that riderless horses have, one +had a real sensation—which was the pleasanter for +knowing, a few minutes later, that the horseman had +only broken an arm.</p> + +<p>Next was run a rollicking race for horses owned by +farmers, and others, whose land is hunted over by the +Piedmont and Middleburg foxhounds; and last occurred +a great comedy event—a mule race, free for all, in which +one of the hunting men, in uniform, made such a handsome +showing against a rabble of white and colored +boys, all of them yelling, all of them beating their long-eared +animals with sticks, that he would have won, had +he not deliberately pulled his mount and "thrown" the +race.</p> + +<p>The last event was not yet finished when my companion, +who had become nervous about his interurban +trolley, got into a machine to drive to Bluemont.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course," he said as we parted, "we'll miss you +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Oh," I said, "I hope not. I expect to get there."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how you can make it," said he. "You +have a lot of material to gather."</p> + +<p>"I shall work fast."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, trying to speak like the voice of Conscience, +"I hope you won't forget your <i>duty</i>—that's all."</p> + +<p>"I proposed this party to-night. It is my duty to be +there."</p> + +<p>"You didn't make any definite engagement," said he, +"and, besides, your first duty is to your editors and your +readers."</p> + +<p>Having tossed me this disgusting thought, he departed +in a cloud of dust, leaving me sad and alone, but not yet +altogether in despair.</p> + +<p>The last race over, I hastened to Mr. Thomas's house, +which, by this time, looked like an old English hunting +print come to life, for it was now crowded with pink +coats. For most of the technical information contained +in this chapter I am indebted to various gentlemen +whom I encountered there.</p> + +<p>In Virginia—which is the oldest fox-hunting State in +the Union, the sport having been practised there for +nearly two centuries—the words "hunt" or "hunting" +never by any chance apply to shooting, but always refer +to hunting the fox with horse and hounds. A "hunter" +is not a man but a horse; a huntsman is not a member +of the hunt but a hunt-servant; the "field" may be the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +terrain ridden over by the hunt, or it may be the group +of riders following the hounds—"hunt followers," +"hunting men," and "hunting women."</p> + +<p>The following items, from "Baily's Hunting Directory," +a British annual, give some idea of certain primary +formalities and practicalities of hunting:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class='center'>HINTS TO BEGINNERS</p> + +<p>Buy the best horses you can afford; but remember that a workably +sound horse, though blemished or a bit gone in the wind, will +give you plenty of fun, if you do not knock him about.</p> + +<p>Obey the Master's orders without argument; in the field he is +supreme.</p> + +<p>Hold up your hat if you view the fox away; do not halloa. If +none of the hunt servants see your uplifted hat, go and tell the +nearest of them.</p> + +<p>Ride fast at water; if hounds clear a brook a horse has a good +chance of doing so. Steady your horse and let him take his own +pace at big timber.</p> + +<p>Keep well away from hounds, and down wind of them at a +check. The steam from heated horses adds a fresh difficulty to +recovery of lost scent. Look out for signs that may indicate the +whereabouts or passing of the fox. Huddling sheep, staring cattle, +chattering magpies, circling rooks, may mean that they see, +or have just seen, the fox.</p> + +<p>Never lark over fences; it tires your horse needlessly and may +cause damage and annoy the farmer.</p> + +<p>Never take a short cut through a covert that is likely to be +drawn during the day; and keep well away from a covert that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +hounds are drawing if you start for home before the day's sport +is over, lest you head the fox.</p> + +<p>Always await your turn at a gate or gap; do not try and push +forward in a crowd.</p> + +<p>If you follow a pilot, do not "ride in his pocket"; give him +plenty of room, say fifteen lengths, at fences, or if he falls you +might jump on him.</p> + +<p>If your horse kicks, tie a knot of red ribbon in his tail. N. B.—Do +not be guilty of using this "rogue's badge" for the sake of +getting room in a crowd, as some men have been known to do.</p> + +<p>If a man is down and in danger of being kicked, put your own +saddle over his head.</p> + + +<p class='center'>HINTS CONCERNING THE HUNTER</p> + +<p>It should be remembered that in the ordinary routine the horse +is fed three or four times a day. On a hunting day he gets one +good feed early in the morning and loses one or two feeds. +Moreover, he is doing hard work for hours together, with a +weight on his back. Carry a couple of forage biscuits in your +pocket to give him during the day. Also get off and relieve him +of your weight when you can do so.</p> + +<p>When he is brought home, put him in his stall or box, slack +the girths, take off the bridle and give him his gruel at once. +Throw a rug over his loins and pull his ears for a minute or two.</p> + +<p>An old horse needs more clothing than a young one.</p> + +<p>Condition is a matter of seasons, not of months; a horse in +hard condition can take without injury a fall that would disable a +soft one for weeks.</p></div> + +<p>In old times many of Virginia's country gentlemen +kept their own packs, but though some followed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +hounds according to the English tradition, there developed +a less sportsmanlike style of hunting called "hilltopping," +under which the hunting men rode to an elevated +point and watched the hounds run the fox, without +themselves attempting to follow across country and +be in at the kill. As a result, the fox was, if caught, +torn to pieces by the hounds, and the brush and head +were infrequently saved.</p> + +<p>Under the traditions of English fox-hunting—traditions +the strictness of which can hardly be exaggerated—"hilltopping" +is a more than doubtful sport, and, since +organized fox-hunting in the United States is taken entirely +from the English idea, the practice is tabooed on +first-class hunting regions.</p> + +<p>The origin of hilltopping is, however, easily understood. +The old fox-hunters simply did not, as a rule, +have horses adequate to negotiate the country, hunters +not having been developed to any great extent in America +in early times.</p> + +<p>The perfect type of hunter is of thoroughbred stock. +By the term "thoroughbred" horsemen do not mean +highly bred horses of any kind, as is sometimes supposed, +but only running horses. All such horses come +originally of British stock, for it is in Great Britain that +the breed has been developed, although it traces back, +through a number of centuries, to a foundation of +Arabian blood. I am informed that climatic and other +conditions in a certain part of Ireland are for some reason +peculiarly favorable to the development of hunters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +and that these conditions are duplicated in the Piedmont +section of Virginia, and nowhere else in the +whole world. Only the stanchest, bravest, fastest type +of horse is suited for hunting in Virginia, and for this +reason the more experienced riders to hounds prefer +the thoroughbred, though half-bred and three-quarter-bred +horses are also used to some extent, the thoroughbred +often being too mettlesome, when he becomes excited, +for any but the best riders. The finest qualities +of a horse are brought out in hunting in the Piedmont +section, for the pace here is very fast—much faster than +in England, though it should be added that in the English +hunting country there are more hedges than over +here, and that the jumps are, upon the whole, stiffer.</p> + +<p>The speed of the Piedmont Hunt and other hunts in +Virginia is doubtless due to the use of southern hounds, +these being American hounds, smaller and faster than +English hounds, from which, however, they were originally +bred. The desirable qualities in a pack of hounds +are uniformity of type, substance, speed, and color. +These points have to do not only with the style of a +pack, but also with its hunting quality. Thus in the +Piedmont pack they breed for a red hound with white +markings, so that the pack may have an individual appearance, +but in all packs a great effort is made to secure +even speed, for a slow hound lags, while a fast one +becomes an individual hunter. The unusual hound is +therefore likely to be "drafted" from the pack.</p> + +<p>There has been a long controversy as to whether the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +English or American type of hound is best suited for +hunting in this country, and the matter seems still to +remain one of opinion. Probably the best English pack +in the United States is that of Mr. A. Henry Higginson. +Some years since, Mr. Higginson and Mr. Harry +Worcester Smith, of Worcester, Massachusetts, master +of the Grafton pack, made a bet of $5000 a side, each +backing his own hounds, the question being that of the +general suitability of the American versus the English +hound for American country. The trials were made in +the Piedmont region of Virginia, and Mr. Smith's +American hounds won the wager for him.</p> + +<p>In the last ten or twenty years hunting in the United +States has been organized under the Hunts Committee +of the National Steeplechase Association. Practically +all the important hunting organizations are members of +this association, there being forty of these: eleven in +Virginia, nine in Pennsylvania, six in New York, four +in Massachusetts, three each in Maryland and New Jersey, +and one each in Connecticut, Vermont, Ohio, and +Michigan—the Grosse Pointe Hounds, near Detroit, being +the most westerly of recognized hunts, although +there is some unrecognized hunting near Chicago.</p> + +<p>An idea of the comparative importance of hunting in +the United States and in England may be gathered from +the fact that in England and Wales alone there are more +than 180 packs of foxhounds, 88 packs of beagles, and +16 packs of staghounds, while Ireland and Scotland +have many also. The war, however, has struck hard at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +hunting in the British Isles. Baily's Hunting Directory +for 1915-16, says:</p> + +<p>"Hunting has given her best, for of those who have +gone from the hunting field to join the colors, the masters +lead, as they have led in more happy days, with a +tale of over 80 per cent. of their number, the hunt secretaries +following with over 50 per cent., while the hunt +servants show over 30 per cent. No exact data are +available to tell of the multitude from the rank and file +that has followed this magnificent lead, excepting that +from all the hunts there comes the same report, that +practically every man fit for service has responded to +the call."</p> + +<p>It is estimated that 17,000 horses were drafted from +hunting for the cavalry in England at the beginning +of the war; and it is to be noticed that so soon after +the outbreak as July, 1915, the "Directory" published +a list of names of well-known hunting men killed in action, +which occupied more than seven large pages printed +in small type.</p> + +<p>Under the heading "Incidents of the 1914-15 Season" +are to be found many items of curious early war-time +interest, a few of which I quote:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Lady Stalbridge announces willingness to act as field master of +the South and West Wilts Hounds during her husband's absence +in France.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Charles Romer Williams took out to the front a +pack of beagles, with which the officers of the Second Cavalry +Brigade hoped to hunt Belgian hares.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>Capt. E. K. Bradbury, a member of the Cahir Harriers, earned +the V. C. at Nery, but died from wounds.</p> + +<p>The Grafton Hounds have seventy-six followers with the colors.</p> + +<p>Admiral Sir David Beatty, of North Sea fame, has a hunting +box at Brooksby Hall, in the Melton Mowbray country.</p> + +<p>Five members of the Crawley and Horsham Hounds have +been killed, three wounded, and two are missing.</p> + +<p>Quorn fields down to about 30, instead of 300 last season.</p> + +<p>Captain the Honorable R. B. F. Robertson (Twenty-first Lancers) +a prisoner of war. He took over the North Tipperary +Hounds in May, and, of course, did not get a chance to have any +sport.</p> + +<p>We now learn that the French authorities have discouraged +fox-hunting behind the fighting lines. So did the Germans. +One day British hounds took up the scent on their own initiative. +The usual followers had bigger game afoot, and were in the +thick of an engagement. The Germans gained ground and occupied +the kennels. When the hounds returned from their chase +and challenged the intruders they were shot down one by one.</p></div> + +<p>Such is the lore I had acquired when the motor came +for me; whereupon, taking a few sandwiches to sustain +me until supper time, I set forth through the night +by Ford, for the station at The Plains.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The publication of the larger part of the foregoing +chapter on fox hunting, in "Collier's Weekly," brought +me a number of letters containing hunting anecdotes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. J. R. Smith of Martinsville, Virginia, calls my +attention to marked difference in character between the +red fox and the gray. The red fox, he says, depends +upon his legs to elude the hounds, and will sometimes +lead the hunt twenty-five miles from the place where he +gets up, but the gray fox depends on cunning, and is +more prone to run a few miles and "tack."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith tells the following story illustrative of the +gray fox's amazing artfulness:</p> + +<p>"We had started a fox on three different occasions," +he writes, "running him a warm chase for about four +miles and losing him every time in a sheep pasture. +Finally we stationed a servant in that pasture to see +what became of the fox. We started him again and +he took the same route to the pasture. There the mystery +was solved. The fox jumped on the back of a large +ram, which, in fright, ran off about half a mile. The +fox then jumped off and continued his run. When the +hounds came up we urged them on to the point where +the fox dismounted, and soon had his brush."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Another correspondent calls my attention to the fact +that, in Virginia, hunting is not merely the sport of the +rich, but that the farmers are enthusiastic members of +the field—sometimes at the expense of their cattle and +crops. He relates the following story illustrative of the +point of view of the sporting Virginia farmer:</p> + +<p>"A man from the Department of Agriculture came +down into our section to look over farms and give ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>vice +to farmers. He went to see one farmer in my +county and found that he had absolutely nothing growing, +and that his livestock consisted of three hunters +and thirty-two couples of hounds. The agricultural expert +was scandalized. He told the farmer he ought to +begin at once to raise hogs. 'You can feed them what +you feed the dogs,' he said, 'and have good meat for your +family aside from what you sell.'</p> + +<p>"After hearing his visitor out, the farmer looked off +across the country and spat ruminatively.</p> + +<p>"'I ain't never seen no hawg that could catch a fox,' +he said, and with that turned and went into the barn, +evidently regarding the matter as closed. Clearly he +did not share the view of the Irishman who dismissed +fox hunting with the remark that a fox was 'damned +hard to catch and no good when you got him.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /> +<br /> +"A CERTAIN PARTY"</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kind are her answers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her performance keeps no day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breaks time, as dancers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their own music when they stray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lost is our freedom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we submit to women so:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why do we need 'em<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, in their best, they work our woe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Thomas Campion.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The motor ride to The Plains was a cold and +rough one. I remember that we had to ford a +stream or two, and that once, where the mud had +been churned up and made deep by the wheels of many +vehicles, we almost stuck. Excepting at the fords, the +road was dusty, and the dust was kept in circulation by +the feet of countless saddle horses, on which men from +the country to the south of Upperville were riding home +from the races. All the way to The Plains our lights +kept picking up these riders, sometimes alone, sometimes +in groups, all of them going our way, we taking +their dust until we overhauled them, then giving them +ours.</p> + +<p>Dust was over me like a close-fitting gray veil when +I reached the railroad station only to find that the train<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +was late. I had a magazine in my bag, but the light +in the waiting-room was poor, so I took a place near +the stove and gave myself up to anticipations of a bath, +a comfortable room, clean clothing, and a good supper +with my companion—and another companion much +more beautiful.</p> + +<p>I tried to picture her as she would look. She would +be in evening dress, of course. After thinking over different +colors, and trying them upon her in my mind, I +decided that her gown should be of a delicate pink, and +should be made of some frail, beautiful material which +would float about her like gossamer when she moved, +and shimmer like the light of dawn upon the dew. You +know the sort of gown I mean: one of those gowns upon +which a man is afraid to lay his finger-tips lest the material +melt away beneath them; a gown which, he feels, +was never touched by seamstress of the human species, +but was made by fairies out of woven moonlight, star +dust, afterglow, and the fragrance of flowers. Such a +gown upon a lovely woman is man's proof that woman +is indeed the thing which so often he believes her—that +she is more goddess than earthly being; for man knows +well that he himself is earthly, and that a costume made +from such dream stuffs and placed on him, would not +last out the hour. He has but to look up at the stars +to realize the infinity of space, and, similarly, but to +look at her in her evening gown to realize the divinity of +woman.</p> + +<p>And that is where she has him. For it isn't so!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last came the train—just the dingy train to stop +at such a station. I boarded it, found a seat, and continued +to dream dreams as we rattled on toward Washington.</p> + +<p>Even when I found myself walking through that great +terminal by which all railroads enter the capital, I +hardly believed that I was there, nor did I feel entirely +myself until I had reached my room in the New Willard.</p> + +<p>Having started my bath, I went and knocked upon +the door of the near-by room where the clerk had told +me I should find my fellow traveler.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he said, without enthusiasm as he discovered +me. "You're here, are you?"</p> + +<p>He looked imposing and severe in his evening dress. +I felt correspondingly dirty and humble.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I replied meekly. "Any news?"</p> + +<p>"None," he replied. "I've reserved a table at Harvey's. +They dance there. At first they said there was +not a table to be had—Saturday night, you know—but +I told them who was to be with us, and they changed +their minds."</p> + +<p>"Good. I'll be dressed in a little while. Silk hats?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. I returned to my own room.</p> + +<p>Less than an hour later, my toilet completed, I rejoined +him, and together we descended, in full regalia, +to the lobby.</p> + +<p>"Shall we take a taxi?" he suggested, as we passed +out of the side entrance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How far away is the theater?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>We asked the carriage starter. He said it was only +two or three blocks.</p> + +<p>"Let's walk," I said.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel like walking," he returned.</p> + +<p>We rode.</p> + +<p>The theater was just emptying when we arrived.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we'd better let the cab go?" I said. +"There'll be quite a while to wait while she's changing."</p> + +<p>"Better keep it," he disagreed. "Might not find another."</p> + +<p>We kept it.</p> + +<p>At the stage door there was confusion. Having completed +its week in Washington, the play was about to +move elsewhere, and furniture was already coming out +into the narrow passage, and being piled up to be taken +on wagons to the train. It took us some time to find +the doorman, and it took the doorman—as it always does +take doormen—a long, long time to depart into the unknown +region of dressing rooms, with the cards we gave +him, and a still longer time to return.</p> + +<p>"Says to wait," he grunted when he came back.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile more and more furniture had come out, +menacing our shins and our beautifully polished hats +in passing, and leaving us less room in which to stand.</p> + +<p>We waited.</p> + +<p>After ten minutes had passed, I remarked:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wish we had let the taxi go."</p> + +<p>After twenty minutes I remarked:</p> + +<p>"I always feel like an idiot when I have to wait at a +stage door."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you do it, then," said he.</p> + +<p>"And I hate it worse when I'm in evening dress. I +hate the way the actors look at us, when they come out. +They think we're a couple of Johnnies."</p> + +<p>"And supposing they do?"</p> + +<p>I do not know how long this unsatisfactory dialogue +might have continued had not some one come to the +inside of the stage door and spoken to the doorman, +whereat he indicated us with a gesture and said:</p> + +<p>"There they are."</p> + +<p>At this a woman emerged. The light was dim, but I +saw that she wore no hat and had on an apron. As she +came toward us we advanced.</p> + +<p>"You wait for madame?" she asked, with the accent +of a Frenchwoman.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Madame receive your telegram only this afternoon," +she said. "All week, she say, she wait to hear. This +morning she have receive a telegram from Mr. Woods +that say she mus' come to New York. She think you +not coming, so she say 'Yes.' Then she receive your +message. She don't know where to reach you. She +can do nossing. She is desolated! She mus' fly to the +train. She is ver' sorry. She hope that maybe the +gentlemans will be in Baltimore nex' week? Yes?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mean she can't come to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur. She cannot. She are fill with regret. +She—"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said my companion, recovering, "we can +drive her to the train?"</p> + +<p>The maid, however, did not seem to wish to discuss +this point. She shook her head and said:</p> + +<p>"Madame ver' sorry she cannot come."</p> + +<p>"But I say," repeated my companion, "that we shall be +delighted to drive her to the train if she wishes."</p> + +<p>"She ver' sorry," persisted the maid negatively.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see," he said. "Very well. Please say to her +that we are sorry, too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur." The maid retired.</p> + +<p>"I want something to eat," I remarked as we passed +down the long furniture-piled passage leading to the +street.</p> + +<p>"So do I. We have that table at Harvey's."</p> + +<p>"I know; but—"</p> + +<p>"That's a fact," he put in. "I mentioned her name. +We can't very well go there without her."</p> + +<p>"And all dressed up like a pair of goats."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"There's always the hotel."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go back there—not now."</p> + +<p>"Neither do I. Let's make it the Shoreham," I suggested +as we emerged upon the street.</p> + +<p>"All right." Then, looking across the sidewalk, he +added: "There's that damned taxi!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. We'll drive around there in it."</p> + +<p>"No," said he, "send it away. I don't feel like riding."</p> + +<p>We walked to the Shoreham. The café looked cheerful, +as it always does. We ordered an extensive supper. +It was good. There were pretty women in the +room, but we looked at them with the austere eyes of +disillusioned men, and talked cynically of life. I cannot +recall any of the things we said, though I remember +thinking at the time that both of us were being rather +brilliant, in an icy way. I suppose it was mainly about +women. That was to be expected. Women, indeed! +What were women to us? Nothing! And pretty +women, least of all. Ah, pretty women! Pretty +women!... Yes, yes!</p> + +<p>I had ordered fruit to finish off the meal, and I remember +that as the dish was set upon the table, it occurred +to me that we had made a very pleasant party of +it after all.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," I said, as I helped myself to some +hothouse grapes, "I've had a bully evening. It has +been fine to sit here and have a party all to ourselves. +I'm not so sorry that she did not come!"</p> + +<p>Then I ate a grape or two.</p> + +<p>They were very handsome grapes, but they were sour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /> +<br /> +THE LEGACY OF HATE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">... Immortal hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And courage never to submit or yield.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Paradise Lost.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The last time I went abroad, a Briton on the boat +told me a story about an American tourist who +asked an old English gardener how they made +such splendid lawns over there.</p> + +<p>"First we cut the grass," said the gardener, "and then +we roll it. Then we cut it, and then we roll it."</p> + +<p>"That's just what we do," said the American.</p> + +<p>"Ah," returned the gardener, "but over here we've +been doing it five hundred years!"</p> + +<p>In Liverpool another Englishman told me the same +story. Three or four others told it to me in London. +In Kent I heard it twice, and in Sussex five or six times. +After going to Oxford and the Thames I lost count.</p> + +<p>In the South my companion and I had a similar experience +with the story about that daughter of the Confederacy +who declared she had always thought "damn +Yankee" one word. In Maryland that story amused us, +in Virginia it seemed to lose a little of its edge, and we +are proud to this day because, in the far southern States, +we managed to grin and bear it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>Doubtless the young lady likewise thought that "you-all" +was one word. However I refrained from suggesting +that, lest it be taken for an attempt at retaliation. +And really there was no occasion to retaliate, for +the story was always told with good-humored appreciation +not only of the dig at "Yankees"—collectively all +Northerners are "Yankees" in the South—but also of +the sweet absurdity of the "unreconstructed" point of +view.</p> + +<p>Speaking broadly of the South, I believe that there +survives little real bitterness over the Civil War and the +destructive and grotesquely named period of "reconstruction." +When a southern belle of to-day damns +Yankees, she means by it, I judge, about as much, and +about as little, as she does by the kisses she gives young +men who bear to her the felicitous southern relationship +of "kissing cousins."</p> + +<p>Even from old Confederate soldiers I heard no expressions +of violent feeling. They spoke gently, handsomely +and often humorously of the war, but never +harshly. Real hate, I think, remains chiefly in one +quarter: in the hearts of some old ladies, the wives and +widows of Confederate soldiers—for there are but few +mothers of the soldiers left. The wonder is that more +of the old ladies of the South have not held to their resentment, +for, as I have heard many a soldier say, +women are the greatest sufferers from war. One veteran +said to me: "My arm was shattered and had to +be amputated at the shoulder. There was no anesthetic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +Of course I suffered, but I never suffered as my mother +did when she learned what I had endured."</p> + +<p>Be they haters of the North or not, the old ladies of +the South are among its chief glories, and it should be +added that another of those glories is the appreciation +that the South has for the white-haired heroines who +are its mothers, grandmothers, and great grandmothers, +and the unfailing natural homage that it pays them. I +do not mean by this merely that children and grandchildren +have been taught to treat their elders with respect. +I do not mean merely that they love them. The thing +of which I speak is beyond family feeling, beyond the +respect of youth for age. It is a strong, superb sentiment, +something as great as it is subtle, which floods +the South, causing it to love and reverence its old ladies +collectively, and with a kind of national spirit, like the +love and reverence of a proud people for its flag.</p> + +<p>Among young men, I met many who told me, with +suitable pride, of the parts played by their fathers and +uncles in the war. Of these only one spoke with heat. +He was a Georgian, and when I mentioned to him +that, in all my inquiries, I had heard of no cases of +atrocious attacks upon women by soldiers—such attacks +as we heard of at the time of the German invasion +of Belgium and France—he replied with a great +show of feeling that I had been misinformed, and that +many women had been outraged by northern soldiers +in the course of Sherman's march to the sea. At this +my heart sank, for I had treasured the belief that, de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>spite +the roughness of war, unprotected women had +generally been safe from the soldiers of North and +South alike. What was my relief, then, on later receiving +from this same young man a letter in which he declared +that he had been mistaken, and that after many +inquiries in Georgia he had been unable to learn of a +single case of such crime. If it is indeed true that such +things did not occur in the Civil War—and I believe confidently +that it is true—then we have occasion, in the +light of the European War, to revise the popular belief +that of all wars civil war is the most horrible.</p> + +<p>The attitude of the modern South (the "New South" +which, by the way, one Southerner described to me as +meaning "northern capital and smoke") toward its +own "unreconstructed" citizens, for all its sympathy and +tenderness, is not without a glint of gentle humor. +More than once, when my companion and I were received +in southern homes with a cordiality that precluded +any thought of sectional feeling, we were nevertheless +warned by members of the younger generation—and +their eyes would twinkle as they said it—to "look +out for mother; she's unreconstructed." And you may +be sure that when we were so warned we did "look +out." It was well to do so! For though the mother +might be a frail old lady, past seventy, with the face +of an angel and the normal demeanor of a saint, we +could see her bridle, as we were presented to her, over +the thought there here were two Yankees in her home—Yankees!—we +could see the light come flashing up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +into her eyes as they encountered ours, and could +feel beneath the veil of her austere civility the dagger +points of an eternal enmity. By dint of self-control +on her part, and the utmost effort upon ours to be +tactful, the presentation ceremony was got over with, +and after some formal speeches, resembling those +which, one fancies, may be exchanged by opposing generals +under a flag of truce, we would be rescued from +her, removed from the room, before her forbearance +should be strained, by our presence, to the point of breaking. +A baleful look would follow us as we withdrew, +and we would retire with a better understanding of the +flaming spirit which, through that long, bloody conflict +against overwhelming odds in wealth, supplies, and +men, sustained the South, and which at last enabled +it to accept defeat as nobly as it had accepted earlier +victories.... How one loves a gentle old lady who can +hate like that!</p> + +<p>In this chapter, when it appeared originally, in "Collier's +Weekly," I made the statement that I had seldom +spent an hour in conversation with a Southerner without +hearing some mention of the Civil War, and that I +had heard other Northerners remark upon this matter, +and express surprise at the tenacity with which the war +holds its place in the foreground of the southern mind.</p> + +<p>This, like many another of my southern observations, +brought me letters from readers of "Collier's," residing +in the South. A great number of the letters thus elicited, +as well as comments made upon these chapters by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +the southern press, have been of no small interest to me. +On at least one subject (the question discussed in the +next chapter, as to whether the expression "you-all" is +ever used in the singular) my correspondents have convinced +me that my earlier statement was an error, while +on other subjects they have modified my views, and on +still others made my convictions more profound. +Where it has been possible, and where it has seemed, for +one reason or another, to be worth while, I have endeavored, +while revising the story of my southern wanderings +for this book, to make note of the other fellow's +point of view, especially in cases where he disagrees +with me.</p> + +<p>The following, then, is from a letter written on the +stationery of Washington and Lee University, and applies +to certain statements contained in this chapter:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>In 1813, Thomas Jefferson wrote to a newspaper publisher: +"Were I the publisher of a paper, instead of the usual division +into Foreign, Domestic, etc., I think I should distribute everything +under the following heads: 1. True. 2. Probable. 3. Wanting +confirmation. 4. Lies, and be careful in subsequent papers to +correct all errors in preceding ones."</p> + +<p>Allow me to suggest that your story might, under Mr. Jefferson's +category, be placed under "2." Perhaps you went to see +"The Birth of a Nation" before you wrote it. It has been my +experience that my acquaintances among the F. F. V.'s have +been far more interested in whether Boston or Brooklyn would +win the pennant than in discussing the Civil War. By the young +men of the South the War was forgotten long ago.</p></div> + +<p>This letter has caused me to wonder whether the frequency +with which my companion and I heard the Civil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +War discussed, may not, perhaps, have been due, at +least in part, to our own inquiries, resulting from the +consuming interest that we had in hearing of the War +from those who lived where it was fought.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, it seems to me most natural that the +South should remember, while the North forgets. +Not all Northerners were in the war. But all Southerners +were; if a boy was big enough to carry a gun, he +went. The North almost completely escaped invasion, +and upon one occasion when a southern army did march +through northern territory, the conduct of the invading +troops toward the civilian population (the false Barbara +Frietchie legend to the contrary notwithstanding) was +so exemplary as to set a record which is probably unequaled +in history.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> The South, upon the other hand, +was constantly under invasion, and the record of destruction +wrought by northern armies in the valley of +the Shenandoah, on the March to the Sea, and in some +other instances, is writ in poverty and mourning unto +this day.</p> + +<p>Thus, except politically, the North now feels not the +least effect from the war. But the South knew the +terrors of invasion and the pangs of conquest, and is +only growing strong again after having been ruined—as +instanced by the fact, which I came across the other +day, that the tax returns from one of the southern +States have, for the first time since the Civil War, +reached the point at which they stood when it began.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> +<p>So, very naturally, while the War has begun to +take its place in the northern mind along with the +Revolutionary War, as something to be studied in school +under the heading "United States History," it has not, +in southern eyes, become altogether "book history," but +is history that lives—in swords hanging upon the walls +of many homes, in old faded letters, in sacks of worthless +Confederate bills, in the ruins of great houses, in +lovingly preserved gray uniforms, in southern battle +fields, and in southern burial grounds where rows upon +rows of tombstones, drawn up in company front, stand +like gray armies forever on parade.</p> + +<p>Small wonder if, amid its countless tragic memorials, +the South does not forget. The strange thing is that bitterness +has gone so soon; that remembering the agonies +of war and the abuses of reconstruction, the South does +not to-day hate the North as violently as ever. If to err +is human, the North has, in its treatment of the South, +richly proved its humanness; and if forgiveness is divine, +the South has, by the same token, attained something +like divinity.</p> + +<p>Had the numbskull North understood these things as +it should have understood them, there would not now be +a solid Democratic South.</p> + +<p>Such rancor as remains is, I believe, strongest in the +smaller towns in those States which suffered the greatest +hardships. I know, for instance, of one lady, from +a little city in Virginia, who refused to enter the Massachusetts +Building at the Chicago World's Fair, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +there are still to be found, in Virginia, ladies who do +not leave their houses on the Fourth of July because +they prefer not to look upon the Stars and Stripes. The +Confederate flag is still, in a sense, the flag of the South. +Southerners love it as one loves a pressed flower from +a mother's bridal wreath. When the Eleventh Cavalry +rode from Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia, to Winchester, +Virginia, a few years since, they saw many Confederate +flags, but only one Union flag, and that in the hands of +a negro child. However, war had not then broken out +in Europe. It would be different now.</p> + +<p>A Virginia lady told me of having gone to a dentist +in Winchester, Virginia, and having taken her little +niece with her. The child watched the dentist put a +rubber dam in her aunt's mouth, and then, childlike, began +to ask questions. She was a northern child, and +she had evidently heard some one in the town speak of +Sheridan's ride.</p> + +<p>"Auntie," she said, "was Sheridan a Northerner or a +Southerner?"</p> + +<p>Owing to the rubber dam the aunt was unable to reply, +but the dentist answered for her. "He was a +drunken Yankee!" he declared vehemently.</p> + +<p>When, later, the rubber dam was removed, the aunt +protested.</p> + +<p>"Doctor," she reproved, "you should not have said +such a thing to my niece. She is from New York."</p> + +<p>"Then," returned the unrepentant dentist, "she has +heard the truth for once!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>Doubtless this man was an inheritor of hate, like the +descendants of one uncompromisingly bitter old Southerner +whose will, to be seen among the records of the +Hanover County courthouse, in Virginia, bequeaths to +his "children and grandchildren and their descendants +throughout all future generations, the bitter hatred and +everlasting malignity of my heart and soul against the +Yankees, including all people north of Mason and +Dixon's line."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p200jpg" id="p200jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p200.jpg" width="600" height="374" alt="The southern negro is the world's peasant supreme" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The southern negro is the world's peasant supreme</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /> +<br /> +"YOU-ALL" AND OTHER SECTIONAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let us make an honorable retreat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—As You Like It.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Those who write school histories and wish them +adopted by southern schools have to handle +the Civil War with gloves. Such words as +"rebel" and "rebellion" are resented in the South, and +the historian must go softly in discussing slavery, +though he may put on the loud pedal in speaking +of State Rights, the fact being that the South not +only knows now, but, as evidenced by the utterances +of her leading men, from Jefferson to Lee, knew +long before the war that slavery was a great curse; +whereas, on the question of State Rights, including +the theoretical right to secede from the Union—this +being the actual question over which the South took +up arms—there is much to be said on the southern +side. Colonel Robert Bingham, superintendent of the +Bingham School, Asheville, North Carolina, has made +an exhaustive study of the question of secession, and +has set forth his findings in several scholarly and temperately +written booklets.</p> + +<p>Colonel Bingham proves absolutely, by quotation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +their own words, that the framers of the Constitution +regarded that document as a <i>compact</i> between the several +States. He shows that three of the States (Virginia, +New York, and Rhode Island) joined in this compact +<i>conditionally</i>, with the clear purpose of resuming +their independent sovereignty as States, should the general +government use its power for the oppression of the +States; that up to the time of the Mexican War the +New England States contended for, not against, the +right to secede; that John Quincy Adams went so far +as to negotiate with England with a view to the secession +of the New England States, because of Jefferson's +Embargo Act, and moreover that up to 1840 the United +States Government used as a textbook for cadets at +West Point, Rawle's "View of the Constitution," a book +which teaches that the Union is dissoluble. Robert E. +Lee and Jefferson Davis, were, therefore, in all probability, +given this book as students at West Point, and +consequently, if we would have honest history, we must +face the astonishing fact that there is evidence to show +<i>that they learned the doctrine of secession at the United +States Military Academy</i>.</p> + +<p>Colonel Bingham, who, it may be remarked, served +with distinction in the Confederate Army, has very +kindly supplemented, in a letter to me, his published +statements. He writes:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Secession was legal <i>theoretically</i>, but practically the conditions +on which the thirteen Independent Republics, covering a little +strip on the Atlantic coast, came to an agreement, could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +possibly be applied to the great inter-Oceanic Empire into which +these thirteen Independent Republics had developed.</p> + +<p>"Theory is a good horse in the stable, but may make an arrant +jade on the journey"—to paraphrase Goldsmith—and the only +way in which these irreconcilable differences could be settled was +by bullet and bayonet, which settled them right and finally.</p></div> + +<p>Once such matters as these are fully understood in the +North, there will be left but one grave issue between +North and South, that issue being over the question of +whether or not Southerners, under any circumstances, +use the phrase "you-all" in the singular.</p> + +<p>"Whatever you write of the South," said our hostess +at a dinner party in Virginia, "don't make the mistake +of representing any one from this paht of the country, +white oh black, educated oh ignorant, as saying 'you-all' +meaning one person only."</p> + +<p>When I remarked mildly that it seemed to me I had +often seen the phrase so used in books, and heard it in +plays, eight or ten southern ladies and gentlemen at the +table pounced upon me, all at once. "Yes!" they agreed, +with a kind of polite violence, "books and plays by +Yankees!"</p> + +<p>"If," one of the gentlemen explained, "you write to +a friend who has a family, and say, according to the +northern practice, 'I hope to see you when you come to +my town,' you write something which is really ambiguous, +since the word 'you' may refer only to your friend, +or may refer also to his family. Our southern 'you-all' +makes it explicit."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>I told him that in the North we also used the word +"all" in connection with "you," though we accented the +two evenly, and did not compound them, but he seemed +to believe that "you" followed by "all" belonged exclusively +to the South.</p> + +<p>The argument continued almost constantly throughout +the meal. Not until coffee was served did the subject +seem to be exhausted. But it was not, for after +pouring a demi-tasse our hostess lifted a lump of sugar +in the tongs, and looking me directly in the eye inquired: +"Do you-all take sugah?"</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly it would have been wiser, and politer, +to let this pass, but the discussion had filled me with +curiosity, not only because of my interest in the localism, +but also because of the amazing intensity with which it +had been discussed.</p> + +<p>"But," I exclaimed, "you just said 'you-all,' apparently +addressing me. Didn't you use it in the singular?"</p> + +<p>No sooner had I spoken than I was sorry. Every one +looked disconcerted. There was silence for a moment. +I was very much ashamed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she said at last. "When I said 'you-all' I +meant you and Mr. Morgan." (She pronounced it +"Moh-gan," with a lovely drawl.) As she made this +statement, she blushed, poor lady!</p> + +<p>Being to blame for her discomfiture, I could not bear to +see her blush, and looked away, but only to catch the eye +of my companion, and to read in its evil gleam the +thought: "Of course they use it in the singular. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +aren't you ashamed of having tripped up such a pretty +creature on a point of dialect?"</p> + +<p>Though my interest in the southern idiom had caused +me to forget about the sugar, my hostess had not forgotten.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, still balancing the lump above the +cup, and continuing gamely to put the question in the +same form, and to me: "Do you-all take sugah, oh +not?"</p> + +<p>I had no idea how my companion took his coffee, but +it seemed to me that tardy politeness now demanded that +I tacitly—or at least demi-tacitly—accede to the alleged +plural intent of the question. Therefore, I replied: "Mr. +Morgan takes two lumps. I don't take any, thanks."</p> + +<p>Late that night as we were returning to our hotel, my +companion said to me somewhat tartly: "In case such +a thing comes up again, I wish you would remember that +sugar in my coffee makes me ill."</p> + +<p>"Well, why didn't you say so?"</p> + +<p>"Because," he returned, "I thought that you-all ought +to do the answering. It seemed best for me-all to keep +quiet and try to look plural under the singular conditions."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>No single thing I ever wrote has brought to me so +many letters, nor letters so uniform in sentiment (albeit +widely different in expression), as the foregoing, seemingly +unimportant tale, printed originally in "Collier's +Weekly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some one has pointed out that various communities +have "fighting words," and as the letters poured in I +began to realize that in discussing "you-all" I had inadvertently +hit upon a term which aroused the ire of the +South—or rather, that I had aroused ire by implying +that the expression is sometimes used in the singular—the +Solid South to the contrary notwithstanding.</p> + +<p>Never, upon any subject, have I known people to agree +as my southern correspondents did on this. The unanimity +of their dissent was an impressive thing. So was +the violence some of them displayed.</p> + +<p>For a time, indeed, the heat with which they wrote, +obscured the issue. That is to say, most of them instead +of explaining merely denied, and added comments, more +or less unflattering, concerning me.</p> + +<p>Wrote a lady from Lexington, Kentucky:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I have lived in Kentucky all of my life, and have never yet +heard "you-all" used in the singular, not even among the negroes. +My grandparents and friends say they have never heard it, either.</p> + +<p>It was needless for you to tell your Virginia hostess that "you-all" +(meaning you and your friend) were Yankees. The fact +that you criticized her language proved it. Southern people +pride themselves on their tact, and no doubt, at the time, she +was struggling to conceal a smile because of some of your own +localisms.</p></div> + +<p>Many of the letters were more severe than this one, +and most of them made the point that I had been impolite +to my hostess, and that, in all probability, when +she looked at me and asked, "Do you-all take sugah?" +she was playing a joke upon me, apropos the discussion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +which had preceded the question. For example, this, +from a gentleman of Pell City, Alabama:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>My wife is the residuary legatee of Virginia's language, inherited, +acquired and affected varieties, including the vanishing +<i>y</i>; annihilated <i>g</i>; long-distance <i>a</i>, and irresistible drawl.</p> + +<p>To quell the unfortunate tumult that has arisen in our household +as a result of your last article in "Collier's" I am commanded +to advise you that the use of "you-all" in the singular +is absodamnlutely <i>non est factum</i> in Virginia, save, perhaps, +among the hill people of the Blue Ridge.</p> + +<p>Also, take notice that when your hostess, with apparent inadvertence, +used the expression in connection with sugar in your +demi-tasse, the subsequent blush was due to your failure to catch +her witticism, ignorantly mistaking it for a lapse of hers.</p> + +<p>My wife was going to write to you herself, but I managed to +divert this cruel determination by promising to uphold the honor +of the Old Dominion. There is already too much blood being +shed in the world without spilling that of non-combatants as +would have been "you-all's" fate had she gone after you with a +weapon more mighty than the sword when in the hands of Mr. +Wilson or an outraged woman.</p></div> + +<p>In face of all this and much more, however, my conviction +was unshaken. I talked it over with my companion. +He remembered the episode of the dinner table +exactly as I did. Moreover, I still had my notes, made +in the hotel that night. The lady looked at me. My +companion was several places removed from her at the +other side of the table. How could she have meant to +include him? And how could she have expected me to +say how he took his after-dinner coffee?</p> + +<p>At last, to reassure myself, I wrote to the wisest, clev<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>erest, +most trustworthy lady in the South, and asked her +what it all meant.</p> + +<p>"Well," she wrote back from Atlanta, "I will tell you, +but I am not sure that you will understand me. The answer +is: <i>She did, but she didn't</i>. She looked at and +spoke to you and, of course, by all rules of logic she +could not have been intending to make you Morg's +keeper in the matter of coffee dressing. <i>But</i> she never +would have said 'you-all' if Morg had not been in her +mind as joined with you. The response, according to +her thought-connotation, would have been from you <i>and</i> +from him."</p> + +<p>This was disconcerting. So was a letter, received in +the same mail, from a gentleman in Charleston:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It is as plain as the nose on your face that you are not yet convinced +that we in the South <i>never</i> use "you-all" with reference +to one person. The case you mentioned proves nothing at all. +The very fact that there were <i>two</i> strangers present justified the +use of the expression; we continually use the expression in that +way, and in such cases we expect an answer from <i>both</i> persons +so addressed. To illustrate: just a few days ago I "carried" +two girls into an "ice-cream parlor." After we were seated, +I looked at the one nearest me, and said: "Well, what will +you-all have?"</p> + +<p>Physically we are so constructed that unless a person is cross-eyed +it is impossible to look at two persons at once; the mere fact +that I looked at the one nearest me did not mean that I was not +addressing both. I expected an answer from both, and I got it, +too (as is generally the case where ice-cream is concerned).</p> + +<p>The subject is one to which I have devoted the most careful +attention for many years. I have been so interested in it that +almost unconsciously, whenever I myself use the expression "you-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>all," +or hear any one else use it, I note whether it is intended to +refer to one or to more than one person. I have heard thousands +of persons, white, black and indifferent, use the expression, +and the only ones I have ever heard use it incorrectly are what +we might call "professional Southerners." For instance, last +week I went to a vaudeville show, and part of the performance +was given by two "black-face" comedians, calling themselves +"The Georgia Blossoms." Their dialect was excellent, with the +single exception that one of them <i>twice</i> used the expression "you-all" +where it could not <i>possibly</i> have meant more than one person. +And I no sooner heard it than I said to myself: "There +is <i>one</i> blossom that never bloomed in Georgia!"</p> + +<p>Another instance is the following: I was once approached by +a beggar in Atlanta, who saluted me thus: "Say, mister, can't +you-all give me a nickel?" Had I been accompanied it would +have been all right, but I was alone, and there was no other person +near me except the hobo. Did I give him the nickel? I +should say not! I said to myself: "He is a damned Yankee +trying to pass himself off for a Southerner."</p></div> + +<p>Horrid glimmerings began to filter dimly through. +And yet—</p> + +<p>Next day came a letter calling my attention to an article, +written years ago by Joel Chandler Harris and +Thomas Nelson Page, jointly, in which they plead with +northern writers not to misuse the disputed expression +by applying it in the singular.</p> + +<p>That was another shock. I felt conviction tottering.... +But she <i>did</i> look at me.... She <i>didn't</i> expect an +answer from my companion....</p> + +<p>And then behold! a missive from Mr. H. E. Jones, a +member—and a worthy one—of the Tallapoosa County +Board of Education, and a resident of Dadeville, Ala<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>bama. +Mr. Jones' educational activities reach far beyond +Tallapoosa County, and far beyond the confines +of his State, for he has educated me. He has made me +see the light.</p> + +<p>"I want to straighten you out," he wrote, kindly. +"We never use 'you-all' in the singular. Not even the +most ignorant do so. But, as you know," (Ah, that was +mercifully said!) "there are some peculiar, almost unexplainable, +shades of meaning in local idioms of speech, +which are not easy for a stranger to understand. I have +a friend who was reared in Milwaukee and is a graduate +of the University of Wisconsin, who tells me he +would have argued the 'you-all' point with all comers +for some years following his taking up his residence +here, but he is at this time as ready as I to deny the allegation +and 'chaw the alligator.'</p> + +<p>"When your young lady, in Virginia, asked, 'Do you-all +take sugar?' she mentally included Mr. Morgan, and +perhaps all other Yankees. I would ask my local grocer, +'Will you-all sell me some sugar this morning?' +meaning his establishment, collectively, although I addressed +him personally; but I would <i>not</i> ask my only +servant, 'Have you-all milked the cow?'"</p> + +<p>And that is the exact truth.</p> + +<p>I was absolutely wrong. And though, having printed +the ghastly falsehood in my original article, I can hardly +hope now for absolution from the outraged South, I +can at least retract, as I hereby do, and can, moreover, +thank Mr. H. E. Jones, of Tallapoosa County, Alabama,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +for having saved me from a double sin; for had he +not given me the simple illustration of the grocery store, +I might have repeated, now, my earlier misstatement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX<br /> +<br /> +IDIOMS AND ARISTOCRACY</h2> + + +<p>Southerners have told me that they can tell +from what part of the South a person comes, +by his speech, just as an Easterner can distinguish, +by the same means a New Englander, a +New Yorker, a Middle-Westerner, and a Brooklynite. +I cannot pretend to have become an authority upon +southern dialect, but it is obvious to me that the speech +of New Orleans is unlike that of Charleston, and that of +Charleston unlike that of Virginia.</p> + +<p>The chief characteristic of the Virginian dialect is the +famous and fascinating localism which Professor C. Alphonso +Smith has called the "vanishing <i>y</i>"—a <i>y</i> sound +which causes words like "car" and "garden" to be pronounced +"cyar" and "gyarden"—or, as Professor Smith +prefers to indicate it: "C<sup>y</sup>ar" and "g<sup>y</sup>arden." I am +told that in years gone by the "vanishing <i>y</i>" was common +to all Virginians, but though it is still common +enough among members of the old generation, and is +used also by some young people—particularly, I fancy, +young ladies, who realize its fetching quality—there can +be no doubt that it is, in both senses, vanishing, and that +not half the Virginians of the present day pronounce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +"cigar" as "segyar," "carpet" as "cya´pet," and "Carter," +as "Cyahtah."</p> + +<p>In Virginia and many other parts of the South one +hears such words as "aunt" correctly pronounced with +the broad <i>a</i>, and such words as "tube" and "new" properly +given the full <i>u</i> sound (instead of "toobe," and +"noo," as in some parts of the North); but, on the other +hand, while the South gives the short <i>o</i> sound in such +words as "log" and "fog," it invariably calls a dog a +"dawg." "Your" is often pronounced "yore," "sure" +as "shore," and, not infrequently, "to" as "toe."</p> + +<p>The South also uses the word "carry" in a way that +strikes Northerners as strange. If a Southerner offers +to "carry" you to the station, or over his plantation, he +does not signify that he intends to transport you by +means of physical strength, but that he will escort you. +If he "carries you to the run" you will find that the +"run" is what Northerners call a creek; if to the +"branch," or "dreen," that is what we call a brook.</p> + +<p>This use of the word "carry," far from being a corruption, +is pure old English, and is used in the Bible, and +by Smollett, though it is amusing to note that the "Georgia +Gazetteer" for 1837, mentions as a lamentable provincialism +such an application of the word as "to <i>carry</i> +(instead of <i>lead</i>) a horse to water." If the "Gazetteer" +were indeed correct in this, then the Book of Genesis +contains an American provincialism.</p> + +<p>The customary use of the word in the North, as "to +<i>carry</i> a cane, or a bag," is equally but no more correct<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +than the southern usage. I am informed by Mr. W. T. +Hall, Editor of the Dothan (Alabama) "Eagle," that +the word used in his part of the country, as signifying +"to bear on the back, or shoulder," is "tote." "Tote" +is a word not altogether unknown in the North, and it +has recently found its way into some dictionaries, +though the old "Georgia Gazetteer" disapproved of it. +Even this word has some excuse for being, in that it is a +deformed member of a good family, having come from +the Latin, <i>tollit</i>, been transformed into the early English +"tolt," and thus into what I believe to be a purely American +word.</p> + +<p>Other expressions which struck me as being characteristic +of the South are "stop by," as for instance, "I +will stop by for you," meaning, "I will call for you in +passing"; "don't guess," as "I don't guess I'll come"; +and "Yes indeedy!" which seems to be a kind of emphatic +"Yes indeed."</p> + +<p>"As I look back over the old South," said one white-haired +Virginian, "there were two things it was above. +One was accounts and the other was grammar. Tradesmen +in prosperous neighborhoods were always in distress +because of the long credits, though gambling debts +were, of course, always punctiliously paid. As to the +English spoken in old Virginia—and indeed in the whole +South—there is absolutely no doubt that its softness and +its peculiarities in pronunciation are due to the influence +of the negro voice and speech on the white race. Some +of the young people seem to wish to dispute this, but we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +older ones used to take the view—half humorously, of +course—that if a Southerner spoke perfect English, it +showed he wasn't a gentleman; "that he hadn't been +raised with niggers around him.""</p> + +<p>"Oh, you shouldn't tell him that!" broke in a lady who +was present.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" demanded the old gentleman.</p> + +<p>"He'll print it!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Well," he answered, "ain't it true? What's the +harm in it?"</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed. "You said '<i>ain't</i>.' He'll +print that Virginians say 'ain't'!"</p> + +<p>"Well," he answered, "I reckon we do, don't we?"</p> + +<p>She laughed and gave up. "I remember," she told me, +"the very spot on the turnpike going out to Ripon, where +I made up my mind to break myself of saying 'ain't.' +But I want to tell you that we are talking much better +English than we used to. Even the negroes are. You +don't hear many white people saying 'gwine' for 'going' +any more, for instance, and the young people don't say +'set' for 'sit' and 'git' for 'get,' as their fathers did."</p> + +<p>"I've heard folks say, though," put in the old gentleman, +"that they'd ruther speak like a Virginian than +speak correctly. The old talk was pretty nice, after all. +I don't hold to all these new improvements. They've +been going too far in this Commonwealth."</p> + +<p>"What have they been doing?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Doing!" he returned, "Why, they're gradually taking +the cuspidors out of the church pews!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before the question of dialect is dropped, it should be +said that those who do not believe the soft southern +pronunciation is derived from negroes, can make out +an interesting case. If, they ask, the negro has corrupted +the English of the South, why is it that he has +not also corrupted the language of the West Indies—British +and French? French negroes speak like French +persons of white blood, and British West Indian negroes +often speak the cockney dialect, without a trace of "nigger." +Moreover, it is pointed out that in southern +countries, the world over, there is a tendency to soften +the harsh sounds of language, to elide, and drop out +consonants. The Andalusians speak a Spanish comparable +in many of its peculiarities with the English of +our own South, and the south-Italians exhibit similar +dialectic traits. Nor do the parallels between the north +and south of Spain and Italy, and of the United States, +end there. The north-Italians and north-Spaniards are +the "Yankees" of their respective countries—the +shrewd, cold business people—whereas the south-Italians +and south-Spaniards are more poetic, more +dashing, more temperamental. The merchants are of +the north of Spain, but the dancers and bull-fighters are +Andalusians. And just as our Americans of the North +admire the lazy dialect of the South, so the north-Spaniards +admire the dialect of Andalusia, and even +imitate it because they think it has a fashionable sound—quite +as British fashionables cultivate the habit of +dropping final <i>g</i>'s, as in "huntin'" for "hunting."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>Virginia, more than any other State I know of, feels +its entity as a State. If you meet a Virginian traveling +outside his State, and ask where he is from, he will not +mention the name of the city in which he resides, but will +reply: "I'm from Va'ginia." If, on the other hand, +you are in Virginia, and ask him the same question, he +will proudly reply: "I'm from Fauquier," or "I'm +from Westmoreland," or whatever the name of his +county may be. The chances are, also, that his trunks +and traveling bags will be marked with his initials, followed +not by the name of his town, but by the abbreviation, +"Va."</p> + +<p>I was told of one old unreconstructed Virginian who +had to go to Boston on business. The gentleman he +went to see there was exceedingly polite to him, asking +him to his house, putting him up at his club, and showing +him innumerable courtesies. The old Confederate, writing +to his wife, indicated his amazement: "Although +he is not a Virginian," he declared, "I must confess that +he lives like a gentleman."</p> + +<p>The name of his Bostonian acquaintance was John +Quincy Adams.</p> + +<p>I heard this story from a northern lady who has a +country place near a small town in Virginia. In the +North this lady's family is far from being unknown, but +in Virginia, she assured me, all persons originating outside +the State are looked upon as vague beings without +"family."</p> + +<p>"They seem to think," she said, "that Northerners<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +have no parents—that they are made chemically."</p> + +<p>This does not imply, however, that well-bred Northerners +are excluded from society. Even if they are well +off they may get into society; for though money does not +count in one's favor in such a town, it does not count +against one. The social requirement of the place is +simple. If people are "nice people," that is enough.</p> + +<p>Of course, however, it is one thing to be admitted to +Virginia society and another to belong to it by right. A +case in point is that of a lady visiting in a Virginia city +who, while calling at the house of some "F. F.V's," was +asked by a little girl, the daughter of the house, where she +had been born.</p> + +<p>"Mawtha," said the little girl's mother, after the caller +had departed, "you must not ask people where they were +bo'n. If they were bo'n in Va'ginia they will tell you +so without asking, and if they weren't bo'n in Va'ginia +it's very embarrassing."</p> + +<p>Some of the old families of the inner circle are in a +tragic state of decay, owing to inbreeding; others, in a +more wholesome physical and mental condition, are perpetually +wrestling with the heritage of poverty left over +from the War—"too proud to whitewash and too poor +to paint"—clinging desperately to the old acres, and +to the old houses which are like beautiful, tired ancestral +ghosts.</p> + +<p>Until a few years ago the one resource of Virginian +gentlewomen in need of funds was to take boarders, but +more lately the daughters of distinguished but poverty-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>stricken +families have found that they may work in offices. +Thus, in the town of which I speak, several ladies +who are very much "in society," support themselves by +entertaining "paying guests," while others are stenographers. +The former, I was told, by the way, make it +a practice to avoid first-hand business contacts with their +guests by sending them their bills through the mail, and +requiring that response be made by means of the same +impersonal channel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /> +<br /> +THE CONFEDERATE CAPITAL</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and +every town or city.</p> + +<p class="smcap signature">—Oliver Wendell Holmes.</p> +</div> + + +<p>Richmond is the Boston of Virginia; Norfolk +its New York. The comparison does not, of +course, hold in all particulars, Richmond being, +for instance, larger than Norfolk, and not a seaport. +Yet, on the other hand, Boston manages, more than any +seaport that I know of, to conceal from the visitor the +signs of its maritime life; wherefore Richmond looks +about as much like a port as does the familiar part of +Boston.</p> + +<p>The houses on the principal residence streets of Richmond +are not built in such close ranks as Boston houses; +they have more elbow-room; numbers of them have yards +and gardens; and there is not about Richmond houses the +Bostonian insistence upon red brick; nevertheless many +houses of both cities give off the same suggestion of having +long been lived in by the descendants of their builders. +So, too, though the Capitol at Richmond has little +architectural resemblance to Boston's gold-domed State +House—the former having been copied by Thomas +Jefferson from the Maison Carrée at Nîmes, and being a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +better building than the Massachusetts State House, +and better placed—the two do, nevertheless, suggest +each other in their gray granite solidity.</p> + +<p>It is perhaps in the quality of solidity—architectural, +commercial, social, even spiritual—that Richmond and +Boston are most alike. Substantialness, conservatism, +tradition, and prosperity rest like gray mantles over both.</p> + +<p>Broad Street in Richmond is two or three times as +wide as Granby Street, Norfolk's chief shopping street, +and for this reason, doubtless, its traffic seems less, +though I believe it is in fact greater. A fine street +to look upon at night, with its long, even rows of +clustered boulevard lights, and its bright windows, +Broad Street in the daytime is a disappointment, because, +for all its fine spaciousness, it lacks good buildings. +I must confess, too, that I was disappointed in the +appearance of the women in the shopping crowds on +Broad Street; for, as every one knows, Richmond has +been famous for its beauties. In vain I looked for +young women fitted to inherit the débutante mantles of +such nationally celebrated beauties as Miss Irene Langhorne +(Mrs. Charles Dana Gibson), Miss May Handy +(Mrs. James Brown Potter), Miss Lizzie Bridges (Mrs. +Hobson), and Miss Sally Bruce (Mrs. Arthur B. Kinsolving).</p> + +<p>In the ten years between 1900 and 1910 the population +of Richmond increased 50 per cent. Her population +by the last census was about 130,000, of which a +third is colored. Norfolk's population is about 70,000,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +with approximately the same percentage of negroes. +In both cities there is much new building—offices downtown, +and pretty new brick homes in outlying suburban +tracts. Likewise, in both, the charming signs of other +days are here and there to be seen.</p> + +<p>Richmond is again like its ancient enemy, Boston, in +the wealth of its historical associations, and I know of +no city which gives the respectful heed to its own history +that Richmond does, and no State which in this +matter equals the State of Virginia. If Richmond was +the center of the South during the Civil War, Capitol +Square was, as it is to-day, the center of that center. +In this square, in the shadow of Jefferson's beautiful +classic capitol building, which has the glowing gray tone +of one of those water colors done on tinted paper by +Jules Guérin, Confederate soldiers were mustered into +service under Lee and Jackson. Within the old building +the Confederate Congress met, Aaron Burr was tried +for treason, and George Washington saw, in its present +position, his own statue by Houdon. Across the way +from the square, where the post office now stands, was +the Treasury Building of the Confederate States, and +there Jefferson Davis appeared seven times, to be tried +for treason, only to have his case postponed by the Federal +Government, and finally dismissed. East of the +square is the State Library, containing a remarkable collection +of portraits and documents, including likenesses +of all governors of Virginia from John Smith to Tyler, +a portrait of Pocahontas, and the bail bond of Jefferson<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +Davis, signed by Horace Greeley, Cornelius Vanderbilt, +Gerrit Smith, and seventeen other distinguished men of +the day. To the west of the square is old St. Paul's +Church, with the pews of Lee and Davis. It was while +attending service in this church, on Sunday, April 2, +1865, that Davis received Lee's telegram from Petersburg, +saying that Richmond must be evacuated. A +block or two west of the church, in East Franklin Street, +is a former residence of Lee. It was given by the late +Mrs. Joseph Bryan and her sisters to the Virginia Historical +Society, and is now, appropriately enough, the +home of that organization.</p> + +<p>In the old drawing room, now the office of the Historical +Society, I found Mr. William G. Stanard, the corresponding +secretary, and from him heard something of +Lee's life there immediately after the War.</p> + +<p>By the Northerners in Richmond at that time, including +the Federal troops stationed in the city, Lee was of +course respected and admired, while by the whole South +he was, and is to-day, adored. As for his own ex-soldiers, +they could not see him without emotion, and +because of the demonstrations which invariably attended +his appearance on the Richmond streets, he went out but +little, passing much time upon the back porch of the +house. Here most of the familiar Brady photographs +of him were taken. Brady sent a young photographer +to Richmond to get the photographs. Lee was at first +disposed to refuse to be taken, but his family persuaded +him to submit, on the ground that if there were any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +impertinence in the request it was not the fault of the +young man, and that the latter might lose his position if +he failed to obtain the desired pictures.</p> + +<p>Finding the continued attention of the crowds too +much for him, the general left Richmond after two +months, removing to a small house in Cumberland +County, on the James, and it was there that he was residing +when called to the presidency of Washington College—now +Washington and Lee University—at Lexington, +Virginia. As is well known, he accepted this offer, +built up the institution, remained its president until the +time of his death, and now lies buried in the university +chapel.</p> + +<p>To Mr. Stanard I am also indebted for the following +information regarding John Smith and Pocahontas:</p> + +<p>About a mile below Richmond, in what is now the +brickyard region, there used to stand the residence of the +Mayo family, a place known as Powhatan. This place +has long been pointed out as the scene of the saving of +Smith by the Indian girl, but late research indicates +that, though Smith did come up the James to the present +site of Richmond, his capture by the Indians did not +occur here, but in the vicinity of Jamestown. Then Indians +took him first to one of their villages on York +River, near the present site of West Point, Virginia, and +thence to a place, on the same stream, in the county +of Gloucester, where the tribal chief resided. I was +under the impression that this worthy's name was Powhatan, +but Mr. Stanard declared "powhatan" was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +a proper name, but an Indian word meaning "chief."</p> + +<p>The Virginia Historical Society is satisfied that Smith +was rescued by Pocahontas at a point about nine miles +from Williamsburg on the west side of York River, but +there are historians who contend that the whole story +of the rescue is a fiction. One of these is Dr. Albert +Bushnell Hart, of Harvard, who lists Smith among +"Historical Liars." Virginians, who regard Smith as +one of their proudest historical possessions, are somewhat +disposed to resent this view, but it appears to me +that there is at least some ground for it. Matthew Page +Andrews, another historian, himself a Virginian, points +out that many of our ideas of the Jamestown colony have +been obtained from Smith's history of the settlement, +which he wrote in England, some years after leaving +Virginia.</p> + +<p>"From these accounts," says Mr. Andrews, "we get +an unfavorable impression of Smith's associates in the +colony and of the management of the men composing the +popular or people's party in the London Company. As +we now know that this party in the London Company +was composed of very able and patriotic Englishmen, we +are inclined to think that Captain Smith not only overrated +his achievement, but was very unjust to his fellow-colonists +and the Company."</p> + +<p>The story of the rescue of Smith by Pocahontas, with +the strong implication that the Indian girl was in love +with him, comes to us from Smith himself. We know +that when Pocahontas was nineteen years of age (seven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +years after the Smith rescue is said to have occurred), +she married John Rolfe—the first Englishman to begin +the cultivation of the tobacco plant. We know that she +was taken to England, that she was welcomed at court +as a princess, that she had a son born in England, and +that she herself died there in 1617. We know also that +her son, Thomas Rolfe, settled in Virginia, and that +through him a number of Virginians trace descent from +Pocahontas. (Mr. Andrews points out that in 1915 one +of these descendants became the wife of the President of +the United States.)</p> + +<p>But we know also that John Smith, brave and daring +though he was, was not above twisting and embroidering +a tale to his own glorification. While, therefore, it is +too much to affirm that his rescue story is false, it is well +to remember that Pocahontas was but twelve years old +when the rescue is said to have occurred, and that Smith +waited until after she had become famous, and had died, +to promulgate his romantic story.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Immediately to the north of Capitol Square stands the +City Hall, an ugly building, in the cellar of which is the +Police Court presided over by the celebrated and highly +entertaining Judge Crutchfield, otherwise known as "One +John" and "the Cadi"—of whom more presently. A +few blocks beyond the City Hall, in the old mansion at +the corner of East Clay and Twelfth Streets, which was +the "White House of the Confederacy," the official residence +of Jefferson Davis during the war, is the Confeder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>ate +Museum—one of the most fascinating museums I +ever visited.</p> + +<p>Not the least part of the charm of this museum is the +fact that it is not of great size, and that one may consequently +visit it without fatigue; but the chief fascination +of the place is the dramatic personalness of its exhibits. +To me there is always something peculiarly engaging +about intimate relics of historic figures, and it is +of such relics that the greater part of the collection of the +Confederate Museum consists. In one show case, for +example, are the saddle and bridle of General Lee, and +the uniform he wore when he surrendered. The effects +of General Joseph E. Johnston are shown in another +case, and in still another those of the picturesque J. E. B. +Stuart, who, as here one may see, loved the little touch +of individuality and dash which came of wearing a +feather in a campaign hat. So also one learns something +of Stonewall Jackson when one sees in the cabinet, +along with his old blue hat and other possessions, the +gold spurs which were given to him by the ladies of +Baltimore, beside the steel spurs that he <i>wore</i>. All +Jackson's personal effects were very simple.</p> + +<p>One of the most striking relics in the museum is the +Great Seal of the Confederacy, which was only returned +to Richmond within the last few years, after having been +lost track of for nearly half a century—a strange chapter +in the annals of the Civil War.</p> + +<p>Records in the Library of Congress, including the +Confederate state papers purchased by the United States<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +Government in 1872, of William J. Bromwell, formerly +a clerk in the Confederate State Department, brought to +light, a few years ago, the fact that the seal was in the +possession of Rear Admiral Thomas O. Selfridge, U. S. N., +retired.</p> + +<p>At the time of the evacuation of Richmond, Bromwell +carried off a number of the Confederate state papers, +and Mrs. Bromwell took charge of the seal, transporting +it through the lines in her bustle. When later, through +Colonel John T. Pickett, Bromwell sold the papers to +the Government, Rear Admiral Selfridge—then a captain—was +the officer assigned to go to Hamilton, Ontario, +to inventory and receive them. It is said that +Pickett gave the seal to Selfridge at about this time, +first, however, having a duplicate made. This duplicate, +or a copy of it, was later offered for sale as the +original, but was found to be spurious. When examination +of the Pickett papers by Gaillard Hunt, of the Library +of Congress, finally traced the original seal to Rear +Admiral Selfridge, an effort was made to buy it back. +In 1912 three Richmond gentlemen, Messrs. Eppa Hunton, +Jr., William H. White and Thomas P. Bryan, purchased +the Seal of the admiral for three thousand dollars, +subject to proof of its authenticity. Mr. St. George +Bryan and Mr. William Gray, of Richmond, then took +the seal to London, where the makers are still well-known +engravers. Here, by means of hall marks, the +identification was made complete.</p> + +<p>No less appealing than the relics of the deceased gov<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>ernment +and great generals who are gone, are some of +the humbler items connected with the deaths of privates +in the ranks of North and South alike. One of the most +pathetic was a small daguerreotype of a beautiful young +girl. On a card, beside the picture, is the story of it, +so far as that story is ever likely to be known:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Picture found on the dead body of an unidentified Federal +soldier.</p> + +<p>Presented by C. C. Calvert, Upperville, Va.</p></div> + +<p>"We have always hoped," said Miss Susan B. Harrison, +house regent of the museum, "that some day +some one would come in and recognize this little picture, +and that it would find its way back to those who +ought to have it, and who might by this means at last +discover what became of the soldier who was dear to +them."</p> + +<p>An even more tragic souvenir is a letter addressed to +A. V. Montgomery, Camden, Madison County, Mississippi, +in which a mortally wounded soldier of Confederacy +bids a last good-by to his father. The letter was +originally inclosed with one from Lieutenant Ethelbert +Fairfax, C. S. A., informing the father that his son +passed away soon after he had written. The text, +pitiful and heroic as it is, can give but the faintest idea +of the original, with its feeble, laborious writing, and the +dark-brown spots dappling the three sheets of paper +where blood from the boy's mangled shoulder dripped +upon them while he wrote:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 10em;">Spotsylvania County, Va.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">May 10, 1864.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Father</span>:</p> + +<p>This is my last letter to you. I went into battle this evening +as courier for Gen'l Heth. I have been struck by a piece of shell +and my right shoulder is horribly mangled & I know death is +inevitable. I am very weak but I write to you because I know +you would be delighted to read a word from your dying son. I +know death is near, that I will die far from home and friends +of my early youth, but I have friends here, too, who are kind +to me. My Friend Fairfax will write you at my request and +give you the particulars of my death. My grave will be marked +so that you may visit it if you desire to do so, but it is optionary +with you whether you let my remains rest here or in Mississippi. +I would like to rest in the graveyard with my dear +mother and brothers, but it is a matter of minor importance. +Let us all try to reunite in heaven. I pray my God to forgive +my sins & I feel that his promises are true, that he will forgive +me and save me. Give my love to all my friends. My strength +fails me. My horse & my equipments will be left for you. +Again a long farewell to you. May we meet in heaven.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Your Dying Son,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 4em;">J. R. Montgomery</span>. +</p> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /> +<br /> +RANDOM RICHMOND NOTES</h2> + + +<p>Richmond may again be likened to Boston as +a literary center. In an article published some +years ago in "Book News" Alice M. Tyler refers +to Colonel William Byrd, who founded Richmond +in 1733, as the sprightliest and most genial native +American writer before Franklin. In the time of Chief +Justice Marshall, Richmond had a considerable group +of novelists, historians and essayists, but the great +literary name connected with the place is that of Edgar +Allan Poe, who spent much of his boyhood in the city +and later edited the "Southern Literary Messenger." +Matthew Fontaine Maury, the great scientist, mentioned +in an earlier chapter, was, at another time, editor of the +same periodical, as was also John Reuben Thompson, +"Poet of the Confederacy," who wrote, among other +poems, "Music in Camp," and who translated Gustave +Nadaud's familiar poem, "Carcassonne."</p> + +<p>Thomas Nelson Page made his home in Richmond for +thirty years; Amélie Rives was born there and still +maintains her residence in Albemarle County, Virginia, +while among other writers of the present time connected +with the city either by birth or long association are, +Henry Sydnor Harrison, Mary Johnston, Ellen Glas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>gow, +Marion Harland, Kate Langley Bosher, James +Branch Cabell, Edward Peple, dramatist, J. H. Whitty, +biographer of Poe, and Colonel W. Gordon McCabe, soldier, +historian, essayist, and local character—a gentleman +upon whose shoulders such imported expressions as +<i>littérateur</i>, <i>bon viveur</i>, and <i>raconteur</i> alight as naturally +as doves on friendly shoulders.</p> + +<p>Colonel McCabe is a link between present-day Richmond +and the traditions and associations of England. +He was the friend of Lord Roberts, he introduced Lord +Tennyson to Bull Durham tobacco, and, as is fitting +under the circumstances, he speaks and writes of a hotel +as "<i>an</i> hotel."</p> + +<p>Henry Sydnor Harrison did his first writing as book +reviewer on the Richmond "Times-Dispatch," of which +paper he later became paragrapher and daily poet, and +still later editor in chief. It is commonly reported in +Richmond that the characters in his novel "Queed," the +scenes of which are laid in Richmond, were "drawn +from life." I asked Mr. Harrison about this.</p> + +<p>"When the book appeared," he said, "I was much embarrassed +by the disposition of Richmond people—human +and natural, I suppose, when you 'know the author'—to +identify all the imaginary persons with various local +characters. Some characteristics of the political boss in +my story were in a degree suggested by a local celebrity; +Stewart Bryan is indicated, in passing, as Stewart +Byrd; and the bare bones of a historic case, altered at +will, were employed in another connection. But I think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +I am stating the literal truth when I say that no figure +in the book is borrowed from life."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The recent residential development in Richmond has +been to the west of the city in the neighborhood of Monument +Avenue, a fine double drive, with a parked center, +lined with substantial new homes, and having at intervals +monuments to southern heroes: Lee, Davis, and +J. E. B. Stuart.</p> + +<p>The parks are on the outskirts of the city and, as in +most other cities, it is in these outlying regions that new +homes are springing up, thanks in no small degree to the +automobile. The Country Club of Virginia is out to +the west of the town, in what is known as Westhampton, +and is one of the most charming clubs of its kind +in the South or, indeed, in the country.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p216jpg" id="p216jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p216.jpg" width="600" height="425" alt="The Country Club of Virginia, out to the west of Richmond, is one of the most charming clubs of its kind in the +United States" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Country Club of Virginia, out to the west of Richmond, is one of the most charming clubs of its kind in the +United States</span> +</div> + +<p>Richmond has one of the most beautiful and several +of the most curious cemeteries I have ever seen. Hollywood +Cemetery stands upon rolling bluffs overlooking +the James, and under its majestic trees are the tombs of +many famous men, including James Monroe, John Tyler, +Jefferson Davis and Fitzhugh Lee. An inscription on +the Davis monument, which was erected by the widow +and daughter of the President of the Confederacy, describes +him as "an American soldier and defender of the +Constitution." At the back of the pedestal is another +inscription:</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> +<p class='center'> +<span class="smcap">President of the Confederate +States of America 1861-1865.<br /> +Faithful to All Trusts, a Martyr +to Principle.<br /> +He Lived and Died the Most +Consistent of American Soldiers +and Statesmen.</span> +</p> + +<p>It occasionally happens that, instead of having monuments +because in life they were famous, men are made +famous after death, by the inscriptions placed upon their +tombstones. Such is the case with James E. Valentine, +a locomotive engineer killed in a collision many years +ago. The Valentine monument in Hollywood Cemetery +is almost as well known as the monuments erected in +memory of the great, the reason for this being embodied +in the following verse adorning the stone:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until the brakes are turned on Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's throttle valve shut down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wakes to pilot in the crew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wear the martyr's crown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On schedule time on upper grade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the homeward section,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lands his train at God's roundhouse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The morn of resurrection.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His time all full, no wages docked;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His name on God's pay roll.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And transportation through to Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A free pass for his soul.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the burial ground of old St. John's Church—the +building in which Patrick Henry delivered his "Give me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +Liberty or give me Death" oration—are a number of old +gravestones bearing strange inscriptions which appeal +to the imagination, and also, alas! elicit sad thoughts +concerning those who wrote the old-time gravestone +doggerel.</p> + +<p>The custodian of the church is glad to indicate the interesting +stones, but is much more taken up with his own +gift of oratory, as displayed when, on getting visitors +inside the church, he takes his place on the spot where +Patrick Henry stood, and delivers the famous oration. +Having done this to us—or perhaps it would seem more +generous to say <i>for</i> us—the caretaker told us that many +persons who had heard him had declared that Patrick +Henry himself would have had a hard time doing it +better. But when he threatened, for contrast, to deliver +the oration as a less gifted elocutionist might speak +it, my companion, in whom I had already observed signs +of restlessness, interrupted with the statement that we +were late for an engagement, and fled from the place, +followed by me.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In certain parts of the city, often at a considerable +distance from the warehouse and factory sections, one +may occasionally catch upon the breeze the faint, spicy +fragrance of tobacco; and should one trace these pleasant +scents to their sources, one would come to a region +of factories in which rich brown leaves are transformed +into pipe tobacco, plug tobacco, or cigarettes. In the +simpler processes of this work, negro men and women<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +are employed, and these with their natural picturesqueness +of pose and costume, and their singing, in the setting +of an old shadowy loft, make a tobacco factory a +fascinating place. In one loft you will see negro men +and boys handling the tobacco leaves with pitchforks, +much as farm hands handle hay; in another, negro +women squatting upon boxes, stemming the leaves, or +"pulling up ends," their black faces blending mysteriously +with the dark shadows of beams and rafters. +Here the air is laden not only with the sweet tobacco +smell, mixed with a faint scent of licorice and of fruit, +but is freighted also with a fine brown dust which is +revealed where bars of sunlight strike in through the +windows, and which seems, as it shifts and sparkles, to +be a visible expression of the smell.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p237jpg" id="p237jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p237.jpg" width="600" height="378" alt="Negro women squatting upon boxes in old shadowy lofts stem the tobacco leaves" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Negro women squatting upon boxes in old shadowy lofts stem the tobacco leaves</span> +</div> + +<p>In the busy season "street niggers" are generally used +for stemming, which is, perhaps, the leading part of the +tobacco industry in Richmond, and these "street niggers," +a wild yet childlike lot, who lead a hand-to-mouth +existence all year round, bring to the tobacco trade a +wealth of semi-barbaric color. To give us an idea of the +character of a Richmond "street nigger" the gentleman +who took my companion and me through the factory told +us of having wanted a piece of light work done, and +having asked one of these negroes: "Want to earn a +quarter?"</p> + +<p>To which the latter replied without moving from his +comfortable place beside a sun-baked brick wall: "No, +boss, Ah <i>got</i> a quahtah."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>The singing of the negroes is a great feature of the +stemming department in a tobacco factory. Some of +the singers become locally famous; also, I was told by +the superintendent, they become independent, and for +that reason have frequently to be dismissed. The wonderful +part of this singing, aside from the fascinating +harmonies made by the sweet, untrained negro voices, +is the utter lack of prearrangement that there is about +it. Now there will be silence in the loft; then there will +come a strange, half-savage cry from some dark corner, +musical, yet seemingly meaningless; soon a faint +humming will begin, and will be taken up by men and +women all over the loft; the humming will swell into a +chant to which the workers rock as their black hands +travel swiftly among the brown leaves; then, presently, +it will die away, and there will be silence until they +are again moved to song.</p> + +<p>From shadowy room to shadowy room, past great +dark bins filled with the leaves, past big black steaming +vats, oozing sweet-smelling substances, past moist fragrant +barrels, always among the almost spectral forms +of negroes, treading out leaves with bare feet, working +over great wicker baskets stained to tobacco color, piling +up wooden frames, or operating the powerful hydraulic +presses which convert the soft tobacco into plugs of concrete +hardness—so one goes on through the factory. +The browns and blacks of these interiors are the browns +and blacks of etchings; the color of the leaves, the old +dark timbers, the black faces and hands, and the ragged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +clothing, combined with the humming of negro voices, +the tobacco fragrance, and the golden dust upon the +air, make an indescribably complete harmony of shade, +sound, and scent.</p> + +<p>The department in which the pipe tobacco is packed +in tins is a very different sort of place; here white labor +is employed: a great many girls seated side by side at +benches working with great digital dexterity: measuring +out the tobacco, folding wax paper cartons, filling +them, and slipping them into the narrow tins, all at a +rate of speed so great as to defy the sight, giving a sense +of fingers flickering above the bench with a strange, +almost supernatural sureness, like the fingers of a +magician who makes things disappear before your eyes; +or like the pictures in which post-impressionist and +cubist painters attempt to express motion.</p> + +<p>"May I speak to one of them?" I asked the superintendent.</p> + +<p>"Sure," said he.</p> + +<p>I went up to a young woman who was working, if +anything, more rapidly than the other girls at the same +bench.</p> + +<p>"Can you think, while you are doing this?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied, without looking up, while her +fingers flashed on ceaselessly.</p> + +<p>"About other things?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"How many cans do you fill in a day?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"About thirty-four to thirty-five hundred on the average."</p> + +<p>"May I ask your name?" She gave it.</p> + +<p>I took up one of the small identification slips which +she put into each package, and wrote her name upon the +back of it. The number on the slip—for the purpose of +identifying the girl who packed the tin—was 220. Let +the reader, therefore, be informed that if he smokes +Edgeworth Ready Rubbed, and finds in a tin a slip +bearing that number, he has been served by no less a +person than Miss Katie Wise, of the astonishingly speedy +fingers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /> +<br /> +JEDGE CRUTCHFIELD'S CO'T</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dar's a pow'ful rassle 'twix de Good en de Bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">En de Bad's got de all-under holt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">En w'en de wuss come, she come i'on-clad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">En you hatter holt yo' bref fer de jolt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Uncle Remus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>My companion and I had not traveled far into +the South before we discovered that our comfort +was likely to be considerably enhanced if, +in hotels, we singled out an intelligent bell boy and, as +far as possible, let this one boy serve us. Our mainstay +in the Jefferson Hotel was Charles Jackson, No. 144, +or, when Charles was "off," his "side partner," whom +we knew as Bob.</p> + +<p>Having one day noticed a negro in convict's stripes, +but without a guard, raking up leaves in Capitol Square, +I asked Charles about the matter.</p> + +<p>"Do they let the convicts go around unguarded?" I +inquired.</p> + +<p>"They 's some of 'em can," said he. "Those is +trustees."</p> + +<p>This talk of "trustees" led to other things and finally +to a strong recommendation, by Charles, of the Richmond +Police Court, as a place of entertainment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is it interesting?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Inter-<i>resting</i>? Yes, <i>suh</i>! Judge Crutchfield he +suttinly <i>is</i>. He done chahge me twenty-six dollahs and +fo'ty cents. My brothah, he got in fight down street, +heah. Some niggers set on him. I went to he'p him +an' p'leeceman got me. He say I was resistin' p'leece. +I ain't resisted no p'leece! No, <i>suh</i>! Not <i>me</i>! But +Judge Crutchfield, you can't tell him nothin'. 'Tain't +no use to have a lawyer, nuther. Judge Crutchfield +don't want no lawyers in his co't. Like 's not he cha'ge +you <i>mo'</i> fo' <i>havin'</i> lawyer. Then you got pay lawyer, +too.</p> + +<p>"Friend mine name Billy. One night Billy he wake +up and heah some one come pushin' in his house. He +hollah: 'Who thar?'</p> + +<p>"Othah nigger he kep' pushin' on in. He say: 'This +Gawge.'</p> + +<p>"Billy, he say: 'Git on out heah, niggah! Ain't no +Gawge live heah!'</p> + +<p>"Othah niggah, he say: 'Don't make no diff'unce +Gawge live heah o' not. He sure comin' right in! +Ain't nobody heah kin stop ol' Gawge! He eat 'em +alive, Gawge do! He de boss of Jackson Ward. Bettah +say yo' prayehs, niggah, fo' yo' time—has—come!'</p> + +<p>"Billy he don't want hit nobody, but this-heah Gawge +he drunk, an' Billy <i>have</i> t' hit 'im. Well, suh, what you +think this Gawge done? He go have Billy 'rested. +<i>Yes</i>, suh! But you can't tell Judge Crutchfield nothin'. +Next mo'nin' in p'leece co't he say to Billy: 'I fine you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +twenty-five dollahs, fo' hittin' this old gray-haihed man.' +Yes, <i>suh</i>! 'at 's a way Judge Crutchfield is. Can't tell +<i>him</i> nothin'. He jes' set up theh on de bench, an' he +chaw tobacco, an' he heah de cases, an' he spit, an' evvy +time he spit he spit a fine. Yes, <i>suh</i>! He spit like dis: +'Pfst! Five dollahs!'—'Pfst! Ten dollahs!'—'Pfst! +Fifteen dollahs!'—just how he feel. He suttinly is +some judge, 'at man."</p> + +<p>Encouraged by this account of police court justice as +meted out to the Richmond negro, my companion and I +did visit Justice Crutchfield's court.</p> + +<p>The room in the basement of the City Hall was +crowded. All the benches were occupied and many persons, +white and black, were standing up. Among the +members of the audience—for the performance is more +like a vaudeville show with the judge as headliner than +like a serious tribunal—I noticed several actors and actresses +from a company which was playing in Richmond +at the time—these doubtless drawn to the place by the +fact that Walter C. Kelly, billed in vaudeville as "The +Virginia Judge," is commonly reported to have taken +Judge Crutchfield as a model for his exceedingly amusing +monologue. Mr. Kelly himself has, however, told +me that his inspiration came from hearing the late Judge +J. D. G. Brown, of Newport News, hold court.</p> + +<p>At the back of the room, in what appeared to be a sort +of steel cage, were assembled the prisoners, all of them, +on this occasion, negroes; while at the head of the chamber +behind the usual police-court bulwark, sat the judge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>—a +white-haired, hook-nosed man of more than seventy, +peering over the top of his eyeglasses with a look of +shrewd, merciless divination.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> +<a name="p228jpg" id="p228jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p228.jpg" width="392" height="500" alt="Judge Crutchfield—a white-haired, hook-nosed man of more than seventy, peering +over his eyeglasses with a look of shrewd, merciless divination" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Judge Crutchfield—a white-haired, hook-nosed man of more than seventy, peering +over his eyeglasses with a look of shrewd, merciless divination</span> +</div> + +<p>"William Taylor!" calls a court officer.</p> + +<p>A negro is brought from the cage to the bar of +justice. He is a sad spectacle, his face adorned with +a long strip of surgeon's plaster. The judge looks at +him over his glasses. The hearing proceeds as follows:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Court Officer</span> (to prisoner)—Get over there! +(Prisoner obeys.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Judge Crutchfield</span>—Sunday drunk—Five dollars.</p> + +<p>It is over.</p> + +<p>The next prisoner is already on his way to the bar. +He is a short, wide negro, very black and tattered. A +large black negress, evidently his consort, arises as witness +against him. The case goes as follows:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Judge Crutchfield</span>—Drunk?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wife</span> (looking contemptuously at her spouse)—Drunk? +Yass, Jedge, drunk. <i>Always</i> drunk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span> (meekly)—I ain't been drunk, Jedge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—Yes, you have. I can see you've got +your sign up this morning. (Looking toward cage at +back of room): Make them niggers stop talkin' back +there! (To the wife): What did he do, Mandy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wife</span> (angrily)—Jedge, he come bustin' in, and +he come so fast he untook the do' off'n de hinges; den 'e +begins—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p244jpg" id="p244jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p244.jpg" width="600" height="347" alt="THE JUDGE: What did he do, Mandy? + +THE WIFE: Jedge, he come bustin' in, an' he come so fas' he untook de do' off'n de hinges!" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE JUDGE: What did he do, Mandy? + +THE WIFE: Jedge, he come bustin' in, an' he come so fas' he untook de do' off'n de hinges!</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span> (to the prisoner, sarcastically)—You +wasn't drunk, eh?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span> (weakly)—I might of had a drink oh +two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span> (severely)—Was—you—<i>drunk</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span>—No, suh, Jedge. Ah wasn't drunk. +Ah don't think no man's drunk s' long 's he can navigate, +Jedge. I don't—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—Oh, yes, he can be! He can navigate +and navigate mighty mean!—Ten dollars.</p> + +<p>(At this point an officer speaks in a low tone to the +judge, evidently interceding for the prisoner.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span> (loudly)—No. That fine's very small. +If it ain't worth ten dollars to get drunk, it ain't worth +nothing at all. Next case!</p> + +<p>(While the next prisoner is being brought up, the +judge entertains his audience with one of the humorous +monologues for which he is famous, and which, together +with the summary "justice" he metes out, keeps ripples +of laughter running through the room): I'm going to +get drunk myself, some day, and see what it does to me. +[Laughter.] Mebbe I'll take a little cocaine, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Negro Voice</span> (from back of room, deep bass, and +very fervent)—Oh, <i>no-o-o</i>! Don't do dat, Jedge! +[More laughter.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—Where's that prisoner? If he was a +Baptist, he wouldn't be so slow.</p> + +<p>(The prisoner, a yellow negro, is brought to the bar. +His trousers are mended with a large safety pin and his +other equipment is to match.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span> (inspecting the prisoner sharply)—You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +ain't a Richmond nigger. I can tell that to look at you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span>—No, suh, Jedge. That's right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—Where you from? You're from No'th +Ca'lina, ain't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span>—Yas, suh, Jedge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—Six months!</p> + +<p>(A great laugh rises from the courtroom at this. On +inquiry we learn that the "joke" depends upon the +judge's well-known aversion for negroes from North +Carolina.)</p> + +<p>Only recently I have heard Walter C. Kelly as "The +Virginia Judge." Save for a certain gentle side which +Mr. Kelly indicates, and of which I saw no signs in +Judge Crutchfield, I should say that, even though Judge +Crutchfield is not his model, the suggestion of him is +strongly there. Two of Mr. Kelly's "cases" are particularly +reminiscent of the Richmond Police Court. +One is as follows:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—First case—Sadie Anderson.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span>—Yassir! That's me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—Thirty days in jail. That's me! +Next case.</p> + +<p>The other:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—What's your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span>—Sam Williams.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—How old are you, Sam?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span>—Just twenty-four.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Judge</span>—You'll be just twenty-five when you get +out. Next case!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br /> +<br /> +NORFOLK AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD</h2> + + +<p>Just as New York looks newer than Boston, but +is actually older, Norfolk looks newer than Richmond. +Business and population grow in Richmond, +but you do not feel them growing as you do in +Norfolk. You feel that Richmond business men already +have money, whereas in Norfolk there is less old wealth +and a great deal more scrambling for new dollars. Also +you feel that law and order count for more in Richmond +than in Norfolk, and that the strict prohibition law which +not long ago became effective in Virginia will be more +easily enforced in the capital than in the seaport. Norfolk, +in short, likes the things New York likes. It likes +tall office buildings, and it dotes on the signs of commercial +activity by day and social activity by night. +Furthermore, from the tops of some of the high buildings +the place actually looks like a miniature New York: +the Elizabeth River masquerading as the East River; +Portsmouth, with its navy yard, pretending to be Brooklyn, +while some old-time New York ferryboats, running +between the two cities, assist in completing the illusion. +In the neighboring city of Newport News, Norfolk has +its equivalent for Jersey City and Hoboken, while Will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>oughby +Spit protrudes into Hampton Roads like Sandy +Hook reduced to miniature.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p253jpg" id="p253jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p253.jpg" width="600" height="335" alt="Some genuine old-time New York ferryboats help to complete the illusion that Norfolk is New York" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Some genuine old-time New York ferryboats help to complete the illusion that Norfolk is New York</span> +</div> + +<p>The principal shopping streets of Norfolk and Richmond +are as unlike as possible. Broad Street, Richmond, +is very wide, and is never overcrowded, whereas +Granby Street, Norfolk (advertised by local enthusiasts +as "the livest street in Virginia," and appropriately +spanned, at close intervals, by arches of incandescent +lights), is none too wide for the traffic it carries, with +the result that, during the afternoon and evening, it is +truly very much alive. To look upon it at the crowded +hours is to get a suggestion of a much larger city than +Norfolk actually is—a suggestion which is in part accounted +for by the fact that Norfolk's spending population, +drawn from surrounding towns and cities, is much +greater than the number of its inhabitants.</p> + +<p>Norfolk's extraordinary growth in the last two or +three decades may be traced to several causes: to the +fertility of the soil of the surrounding region, which, +intensively cultivated, produces rich market-garden +crops, making Norfolk a great shipping point for +"truck"; to the development of the trade in peanuts, +which are grown in large quantities in this corner of +Virginia; to a great trade in oysters and other sea-food, +and to the continually increasing importance of the +Norfolk navy yard.</p> + +<p>In connection with the navy Norfolk has always +figured prominently, Hampton Roads having been a +favorite naval rendezvous since the early days of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +American fleet. Now, however, it is announced that +the cry of our navy for a real naval base—something we +have never had, though all other important navies have +them, Britain alone having three—has been heard in +Washington, and that Norfolk has been selected as the +site for a base. This is an important event not only for +the Virginia seaport, but for the United States.</p> + +<p>Farmers who think they are in a poor business will do +well to investigate Norfolk's recent history. The +"trucking" industry of Norfolk is said to amount in the +aggregate to twelve or fourteen million dollars annually, +and many fortunes have been made from it. The +pioneer "trucker" of the region was Mr. Richard Cox. +A good many years ago Mr. Cox employed a German +boy, a blacksmith by trade, named Henry Kern. Kern +finally branched out for himself. When, in 1915, he +died, his real estate holdings in Norfolk and Portsmouth +were valued at two million dollars, all of which had been +made from garden truck. He was but one of a considerable +class of wealthy men whose fortunes have sprung +from the same source.</p> + +<p>Many of the truck farms have access to the water. +The farmers bring their produce to the city in their own +boats, giving the port a picturesque note. At Norfolk it +is transferred to steamers which carry it to New York, +Philadelphia, Boston, Providence, Baltimore and Washington. +Lately a considerable amount of truck has +been shipped west by rail, as well.</p> + +<p>Hundreds of acres of ground in the vicinity of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +city are under glass and large crops of winter vegetables +are raised. Kale and spinach are being grown and harvested +throughout the cold months; strawberries, potatoes, +beans, peas, cucumbers, cabbage, lettuce and other +vegetables follow through the spring and summer, running +on into the fall, when the corn crop becomes important. +Corn is raised chiefly by the peanut farmer, +whose peanuts grow between his corn-rows.</p> + +<p>While the banks are "carrying" the peanut farmers, +pending their fall harvest, the activities of the "truckers" +are at their height, so that the money loaned to one +class of agriculturist is replaced by the deposits of the +other class; and by the same token, of course, the peanut +farmers are depositing money in the banks when the +"truckers" want to borrow. This situation, one judges, +is not found objectionable by Norfolk and Portsmouth +bankers, and I have been told that, as a corollary, these +banks have never been forced, even in times of dire +panic, to issue clearing house certificates, but have always +paid cash.</p> + +<p>Norfolk has grown so fast and has so rapidly replaced +the old with the new, that the visitor must keep his eyes +open if he would not miss entirely such lovely souvenirs +of an earlier and easier life, as still remain. Who would +imagine, seeing it to-day, that busy Granby Street had +ever been a street of fine residences? Yet a very few +years have passed since the old Newton, Tazwell, Dickson +and Taylor residences surrendered to advancing +commerce and gave place to stores and office buildings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>—the +two last mentioned having been replaced by the Dickson +Building and the Taylor Building, erected less than +fifteen years ago.</p> + +<p>Freemason Street is the highway which, more +than any other, tells of olden times. For though the +downtown end of this lovely old thoroughfare has lapsed +into decay, many beautiful mansions, dating from long +ago, are to be seen a few blocks out from the busier +portion of the city. Among these should be mentioned +the Whittle house, the H. N. Castle house, and particularly +the exquisite ivy-covered residence of Mr. Barton +Myers, at the corner of Bank Street. The city of Norfolk +ought, I think, to attempt to acquire this house and +preserve it (using it perhaps as a memorial museum to +contain historical relics) to show what has been, in Norfolk, +as against what is, and to preach a silent sermon on +the high estate of beauty from which a fine old city may +fall, in the name of progress and commercial growth.</p> + +<p>To the credit of Norfolk be it said that old St. Paul's +Church, with its picturesque churchyard and tombs, is +excellently cared for and properly valued as a pre-Revolutionary +relic. The church was built in 1730, and +was struck by a British cannon-ball when Lord Dunmore +bombarded the place in 1776. Baedeker tells me, however, +that the cannon-ball now resting in the indentation +in the wall of the church is "not the original."</p> + +<p>When I say that St. Paul's is properly valued I mean +that many citizens told my companion and me to be sure +to visit. I observe, however—and I take it as a sign<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +of the times in Norfolk—that an extensive, well-printed +and much illustrated book on Norfolk, issued by the +Chamber of Commerce, contains pictures of banks, +docks, breweries, mills, office buildings, truck farms, peanut +farms, battleships, clubhouses, hotels, hospitals, factories, +and innumerable new residences, but no picture +of the church, or of the lovely old homes of Freemason +Street. Nor do I find in the booklet any mention of the +history of the city or the surrounding region—although +that region includes places of the greatest beauty and +interest: among them the glorious old manor houses of +the James River; the ancient and charming town of +Williamsburg, second capital of the Virginia colony, and +seat of William and Mary College, the oldest college in +the United States excepting Harvard; Yorktown, +"Waterloo of the Revolution"; many important battlefields +of the Civil War; Hampton Institute, the famous +negro industrial school at Hampton, nearby; the lovely +stretch of water on which the <i>Monitor</i> met the <i>Merrimac</i><a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>; +the site of the first English settlement in America<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +at Jamestown, and, for mystery and desolation, the +Dismal Swamp with Lake Drummond at its heart. But +then, I suppose it is natural that the Chamber of Commerce +mind should thrust aside such things in favor of +the mighty "goober," which is a thing of to-day, a thing +for which Norfolk is said to be the greatest of all markets. +For is not history dead, and is not the man who +made a fortune out of a device for shelling peanuts without +causing the nuts to drop in two, still living?</p> + +<p>And yet the modernness on which Norfolk so evidently +prides herself is not something to be lightly valued. +Fine schools, fine churches and miles of pleasant, recently +built homes are things for any American city to rejoice +in. Therefore Norfolk rejoices in Ghent, her chief +modern residence district, which is penetrated by arms +of the Elizabeth River, so that many of the houses in +this part of the city look out upon pretty lagoons, dotted +over with all manner of pleasure craft. Less than +twenty years ago, the whole of what is now Ghent was a +farm, and there are other suburban settlements, such as +Edgewater, Larchmont, Winona and Lochhaven, out in +the direction of Hampton Roads, which have grown up +in the last six or eight years. The Country Club of +Norfolk, with a very pleasing club-house on the water, +and an eighteen-hole golf course, is at Lochhaven, and +the new naval base is, I believe, to be located somewhat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +farther out, on the site of the Jamestown Exposition.</p> + +<p>Norfolk is well provided with nearby seaside recreation +places, of which probably the most attractive is +Virginia Beach, facing the ocean. Ocean View, so +called, is on Chesapeake Bay, and there are summer cottage +colonies at Willoughby Spit and Cape Henry. On +the bay side of Cape Henry is Lynnhaven Inlet connecting +Lynnhaven Bay and River with Chesapeake Bay. +From Lynnhaven Bay come the famous oysters of that +name, now to be had in most of the large cities of the +East, but which seemed to me to taste a little better at +the Virginia Club, in Norfolk, than oysters ever tasted +anywhere. Perhaps that was because they were real +Lynnhavens, just as the Virginia Club's Smithfield ham +is real Smithfield ham from the little town of Smithfield, +Virginia, a few miles distant. On the bank of the +Lynnhaven River is situated the Old Donation farm with +a ruined church, and an ancient dwelling house which +was used as the first courthouse in Princess Anne +County; and not far distant from this place is Witch +Duck Point, where Grace Sherwood, after having been +three times tried, and finally convicted as a witch, was +thrown into the river.</p> + +<p>The several waterside places I have mentioned are +more or less local in character, but there is nothing local +about Fortress Monroe, on Old Point Comfort, just +across Hampton Roads, which has for many years been +one of the most beautiful and highly individualized idling +places on the Atlantic Coast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old moated fortress, the interior of which is more +like some lovely garden of the last century than a military +post, remains an important coast artillery station, and is +a no less lovely spot now than when our grandparents +went there on their wedding journeys, stopping at the +old Hygiea Hotel, long since gone the way of old hotels.</p> + +<p>The huge Chamberlin Hotel, however, remains apparently +unchanged, and is to-day as spacious, comfortable +and homelike as when our fathers and mothers, or +perhaps we ourselves, stopped there years ago. The +Chamberlin, indeed, seems to have the gift of perennial +youth. I remember a ball which was given there in +honor of Admiral Sampson and the officers of his fleet, +after the Spanish War. The ballroom was so full of +naval and military uniforms that I, in my somber civilian +clothing, felt wan and lonely. Most of the evening I +passed in modest retirement, looking out upon the brilliant +scene from behind a potted palm. And yet, when +my companion and I, now in our dotage, recently visited +the Chamberlin, there stood the same potted palm in the +same place. Or if it was not the same, it was one +exactly like it.</p> + +<p>The Chamberlin is of course a great headquarters for +army and navy people, and we observed, moreover, that +honeymooning couples continue to infest it—for Fortress +Monroe has long ranked with Washington and +Niagara Falls as a scene to be visited upon the wedding +journey.</p> + +<p>There they all were, as of old: the young husband<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +scowling behind his newspaper and pretending to read +and not to be thinking of his pretty little wife across the +breakfast table; the fat blonde bride being continually +photographed by her adoring mate—now leaning against +a pile on the pier, now seated on a wall, with her feet +crossed, now standing under a live-oak within the fortress; +also there was the inevitable young pair who +simply couldn't keep their hands off from each other; we +came upon them constantly—in the sun-parlor, where +she would be seated on the arm of his chair, running her +hand through his hair; wandering in the eventide +along the shore, with arms about each other, or going in +to meals, she leading him down the long corridor by his +"ickle finger".</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I recall that it was as we were going back to Norfolk +from Old Point Comfort, having dinner on a most excellent +large steamer, running to Norfolk and Cape Charles, +that my companion remarked to me, out of a clear sky, +that he had made up his mind, once for all, that, come +what might, he would never, never, never get married. +No, never!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br /> +<br /> +COLONEL TAYLOR AND GENERAL LEE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth from its scabbard all in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bright flashed the sword of Lee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis shrouded now in its sheath again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sleeps the sleep of our noble slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defeated, yet without a stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Proudly and peacefully.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Abram J. Ryan.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Though I had often heard, before going into +the South, of the devotion of that section to +the memory of General Robert E. Lee, I never +fully realized the extent of that devotion until I began to +become a little bit acquainted with Virginia. I remember +being struck, while in Norfolk, with the fact that +portraits of General Lee were to be seen in many offices +and homes, much as one might expect, at the present +time, to find portraits of Joffre and Nivelle in the homes +of France, or of Haig in the homes of Britain. It is not +enough to say that the memory of Lee is to the South +like that of Napoleon I to France, for it is more. The +feeling of France for Napoleon is one of admiration, of +delight in a national military genius, of hero-worship, +but there is not intermingled with it the quality of pure +affection which fully justifies the use of the word <i>love</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +in characterizing the feeling of the South for its great +military leader—the man of whom Lord Wolseley said: +"He was a being apart and superior to all others in every +way; a man with whom none I ever knew, and very few +of whom I ever read are worthy to be compared; a man +who was cast in a grander mould and made of finer +metal than all other men."</p> + +<p>Nor is this love surprising, for whereas Napoleon was +a self-seeking man, and one whose personal character +was not altogether admirable in other respects, and +whereas he could hardly be said to typify France's ideal +of everything a gentleman should be, Lee sought nothing +for himself, was a man of great nobility of character, +and was in perfection a Virginia gentleman. At the +end, moreover, where Napoleon's defeat was that of an +aspirant to conquest, glory and empire, Lee's defeat was +that of a cause, and the cause was regarded in the entire +South as almost holy, so that, in defeat, the South felt +itself martyred, and came to look upon its great general +with a love and veneration unequaled in history, and +much more resembling the feeling of France for the +canonized Joan of Arc, than for the ambitious Corsican.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, my companion and I heard, while in +Norfolk, that Colonel Walter H. Taylor, president of +the Marine Bank of that city, had served through the +Civil War on General Lee's staff, we naturally became +very anxious to meet him; and I am glad to say that +Colonel Taylor, though at the time indisposed and confined +to his home, was so kind as to receive us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was seated in a large chair in his library, on the +second floor of his residence, a pleasant old-fashioned +brick house at the corner of York and Yarmouth Streets—a +slender man, not very tall, I judged (though I did +not see him standing), not very strong at the moment, +but with nothing of the decrepitude of old age about +him, for all his seventy-seven years. Upon the contrary +he was, in appearance and manner, delightfully alert, +with the sort of alertness which lends to some men and +women, regardless of their years, a suggestion of perpetual +youthfulness. Such alertness, in those who have +lived a long time, is most often the result of persistent +intellectual activity, and the sign of it is usually to be +read in the eyes. Colonel Taylor's keen, dark, observant, +yet kindly eyes, were perhaps his finest feature, +though, indeed, all his features were fine, and his head, +with its well-trimmed white hair and mustache, was one +of great distinction.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Taylor (of whom we had previously been warned +to beware, because she had not yet forgiven the "Yankees" +for their sins) was also present: a beautiful old +lady of unquenchable spirit, in whose manner, though +she received us with politeness, we detected lurking +danger.</p> + +<p>And why not? Do not women remember some things +longer than men remember them? Do not the sweethearts +who stayed at home remember the continual dull +dread they suffered while the men they loved faced +danger, whereas the absent lovers were at least in part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +compensated for the risks they ran, by the continual +sense of high adventure and achievement?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Taylor was Miss Elizabeth Selden Saunders, +daughter of Captain John L. Saunders of Virginia, who +died in 1860, in the service of his country, a commander +in the United States Navy. When the war broke out +Miss Saunders, wishing to serve the Confederate Government, +became a clerk in the Surgeon General's office, +at Richmond, and there she remained while Colonel +Taylor, whose training at the Virginia Military Institute, +coupled with his native ability, made him valuable +as an officer, followed the fortunes of General Lee, part +of the time as the general's aide-de-camp, and the rest +of the time as adjutant-general and chief of staff of the +Army of Northern Virginia, in which capacities he was +present at all general engagements of the army, under +Lee.</p> + +<p>On April 2, 1865, when Lee's gallant but fast dwindling +army, short of supplies, and so reduced in numbers +as to be no longer able to stand against the powerful +forces of Grant, was evacuating its lines at Petersburg, +when it was evident that the capital of the Confederacy +was about to fall, and the orders for retreat had been +despatched by Colonel Taylor, in his capacity as adjutant—then +the colonel went to his commander and asked for +leave of absence over night, for the purpose of going to +Richmond and being married. He tells the story in his +exceedingly interesting and valuable book, "General Lee—His +Campaigns in Virginia":<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>At the close of the day's work, when all was in readiness for +the evacuation of our lines under cover of the darkness of night, +I asked permission of General Lee to ride over to Richmond and +to rejoin him early the next morning, telling him that my mother +and sisters were in Richmond and that I would like to say +good-by to them, and that my sweetheart was there, and we had +arranged, if practicable, to be married that night. He expressed +some surprise at my entertaining such a purpose at that time, +but when I explained to him that the home of my bride-elect was +in the enemy's lines, that she was alone in Richmond and employed +in one of the departments of the government, and wished +to follow the fortunes of the Confederacy should our lines be reëstablished +farther South, he promptly gave his assent to my +plans. I galloped to the railroad station, then at Dunlops, on the +north side of the river, where I found a locomotive and several +cars, constituting the "ambulance train," designed to carry to +Richmond the last of the wounded of our army requiring hospital +treatment. I asked the agent if he had another engine, when, +pointing to one rapidly receding in the direction of Richmond, he +replied, "Yonder goes the only locomotive we have besides the +one attached to this train." Turning my horse over to the courier +who accompanied me, with directions to join me in Richmond as +soon as he could, I mounted the locomotive in waiting, directed +the engineer to detach it from the cars and to proceed to overtake +the engine ahead of us. It was what the sailors call a stern chase +and a long one. We did not overtake the other locomotive until +it had reached Falling Creek, about three-fourths of the distance, +when I transferred to it and sent the other back to Petersburg. +I reached Richmond without further incident, and soon after +midnight I was married to Elizabeth Selden Saunders.... As +will be readily understood, the occasion was not one of great +hilarity, though I was very happy; my eyes were the only dry ones +in the company....</p> + +<p>The people of Richmond were greatly excited and in despair +in the contemplation of the abandonment of their beautiful city +by our troops. General Lee had for so long a time thwarted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +the designs of his powerful adversaries for the capture of the +city, and seemed so unfailing and resourceful in his efforts to +hold them at bay, that the good people found it difficult to realize +that he was compelled at last to give way. There was universal +gloom and despair at the thought that at the next rising of the +sun the detested Federal soldiers would take possession of the +city and occupy its streets. The transportation companies were +busily engaged in arranging for the removal of the public stores +and of the archives of the government. A fire in the lower part +of the city was fiercely raging, and added greatly to the excitement.</p> + +<p>Somewhere near four o'clock on the morning of the 3d of +April I bade farewell to all my dear ones, and in company with +my brother-in-law, Colonel John S. Saunders, proceeded toward +Mayo's Bridge, which we crossed to the south side of the James, +in the lurid glare of the fire, and within the sound of several +heavy explosions that we took to be the final scene in the career of +the Confederate navy, then disappearing in smoke on the James +River, near Rockets.</p></div> + +<p>Before we departed from the colonel's library, which +we felt obliged to do much sooner than we wished to, +owing to the condition of his health, he called our attention +to an oil portrait of his old commander, which occupied +the place of honor above the mantelpiece, and asked +his daughters to let us see his scrap-book, containing +personal letters from General Lee, Jefferson Davis, and +other distinguished men, as well as various war documents +of unusual interest.</p> + +<p>We felt it a great privilege to handle these old letters +and to read them, and the charm of them was the greater +for the affection in which the general held Colonel Taylor, +as evidenced by the tone in which he wrote. To us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +it was a wonderful evening.... And it still seems to +me wonderful to think that I have met and talked with +a man who issued Lee's orders, who rode forth with Lee +when he went to meet Grant in conference at Appomattox, +just before the surrender, who once slept under the +same blanket with Lee, who knew Lee as well perhaps +as one man can know another, and under conditions calculated +to try men to the utmost.</p> + +<p>As adjutant, Colonel Taylor took an active part in +arranging details of surrender and parole. He says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Each officer and soldier was furnished for his protection from +arrest or annoyance with a slip of paper containing his parole, +signed by his commander and countersigned by an officer of the +Federal army.</p> + +<p>I signed these paroles for all members of the staff, and when +my own case was reached I requested General Lee to sign mine, +which I have retained to the present time.</p></div> + +<p>This document, with Colonel Taylor's name and title +in his own handwriting, and the signature of General +Lee, I am able to reproduce here through the courtesy +of the colonel's daughters, Mrs. William B. Baldwin +and Miss Taylor, of Norfolk. It is the only parole +which was signed personally by General Lee.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/276.png" width="400" height="138" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the back of the little slip, which is of about the +size of a bank check, is the countersignature of George +H. Sharpe, Assistant Provost Marshal general:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/277.png" width="390" height="237" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Following his parole Colonel Taylor rode with General +Lee to Richmond. The general seemed to be in a +philosophical frame of mind, but thought much of the future. +The subject of the surrender and its consequences +was about exhausted. The Colonel tells of one incident:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>On the route General Lee stopped for the night near the residence +of his brother, Mr. Carter Lee, in Powhatan County; and +although importuned by his brother to pass the night under his +roof, the general persisted in pitching his tent by the side of the +road and going into camp as usual. This continued self-denial +can only be explained upon the hypothesis that he desired to have +his men know that he shared their privations to the very last.</p></div> + +<p>This was perfectly in character with Lee. Throughout +the War, we learn from Colonel Taylor's book, the +general used the army ration, and lived the army life. +He would not take up his quarters in a house, because +he wished to share the lot of his men, and also because +he feared that, in the event of the house falling into the +hands of the enemy, the very fact of its having been +occupied by him might possibly cause its destruction. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +was only during the last year of the War, when his +health was somewhat impaired, that he consented sometimes +to vary this rule.</p> + +<p>Lee's chivalrous nature is well shown forth in his +famous General Orders, No. 73, issued at Chambersburg, +Pennsylvania, a few days before Gettysburg.</p> + +<p>After congratulating the troops on their good conduct +the general continued as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There have, however, been instances of forgetfulness on the +part of some that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation +of the army, and that the duties exacted of us by civilization and +Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy +than in our own.</p> + +<p>The commanding general considers that no greater disgrace +could befall the army, and through it our whole people, than the +perpetration of the barbarous outrages upon the unarmed and +defenseless, and the wanton destruction of private property, that +have marked the course of the enemy in our own country.</p> + +<p>Such proceedings not only degrade the perpetrators and all +connected with them, but are subversive to the discipline and efficiency +of the army, and destructive of the ends of our present +movement. It must be remembered that we make war only upon +armed men, and that we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs +our people have suffered without lowering ourselves in the eyes +of all whose abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our +enemies, and offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, +without whose favor and support our efforts must all prove +in vain. The commanding general, therefore, earnestly exhorts +the troops to abstain with most scrupulous care from unnecessary +or wanton injury to private property, and he enjoins upon all +officers to arrest and bring to summary punishment all who shall +in any way offend against the orders on this subject.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 2em;">R. E. Lee</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">General.</span> +</p> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> + +<p>Truly, a document to serve as a model for warriors +of all future generations, albeit one showing an utter +lack of "Kultur"!</p> + +<p>Said Charles Francis Adams, of Massachusetts: "I +doubt if a hostile force ever advanced into an enemy's +country, or fell back from it in retreat, leaving behind +it less cause of hate and bitterness than did the Army +of Northern Virginia in that memorable campaign."</p> + +<p>After the war, Colonel Taylor and his wife settled in +Norfolk, where, within a very short time, a United +States grand jury indicted Jefferson Davis and General +Lee for treason—this, in the case of Lee, being in direct +violation of the terms of surrender. When Grant +learned of the shameful action of the grand jury he complained +to Washington and caused the proceedings +against Lee to be dropped.</p> + +<p>In Colonel Taylor's scrap-book I found a letter written +by Lee before the indictment had been quashed, referring +to the subject:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Richmond, Va.<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">June 17, 1865.</span></p> + +<p>My dear Colonel:</p> + +<p>I am very much obliged to you for your letter of the 13th. I +had heard of the indictment by the grand jury at Norfolk, and +made up my mind to let the authorities take their course. I have +no wish to avoid any trial the government may order, and cannot +flee. I hope others may be unmolested, and that you at least may +be undisturbed.</p> + +<p>I am sorry to hear that our returned soldiers cannot obtain +employment. Tell them they must all set to work, and if they +cannot do what they prefer, do what they can. Virginia wants<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +all their aid, all their support, and the presence of all her sons +to sustain and recuperate her. They must therefore put themselves +in a position to take part in her government, and not be +deterred by obstacles in their way. There is much to be done +which they only can do.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Very truly yours,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 4em;">R. E. Lee.</span> +</p> +</div> + +<p>As time went on, and the more gaping wounds began +to heal, Colonel Taylor's letters from the general took +in many cases a lighter and happier tone. After some +years, when four daughters had been born to Colonel and +Mrs. Taylor, while yet they had no son, the general +chaffed them gently on the subject: "Give my congratulations +to Mrs. Taylor," he wrote. "Tell her I hope +that when her fancy for girls is satisfied (mine is exorbitant) +she will begin upon the boys. We must have +somebody to work for them."</p> + +<p>One of the colonel's sons was present when I came +upon this letter.</p> + +<p>"And you see," he smiled, "my father obeyed his old +commander to the last, for the next baby was a boy, and +the next, and the next, and the next, until there were +as many boys as girls in our family."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Colonel Taylor died at his home in Norfolk, March 1, +1916, and on the subsequent June 15, was followed by +his wife.</p> + +<p>His death leaves but three members of Lee's staff +surviving, namely, Rev. Giles B. Cooke, of Portsmouth, +Virginia, Inspector General; Major Henry E. Young,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +of Charleston, South Carolina, Judge Advocate General; +and Colonel T. M. R. Talcott, of Richmond, Virginia, +Aide-de-Camp. Of these officers only the first +two surrendered with General Lee, Colonel Talcott having +left the staff by promotion in 1863.</p> + +<p>Yes, two of them surrendered, but if we are to believe +Charles Francis Adams we cannot say that Lee +and his forces were actually vanquished, for as the Massachusetts +soldier-author put it:</p> + +<p>"Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia never sustained +defeat. Finally succumbing to exhaustion, to +the end they were not overthrown in fight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HEART_OF_THE_SOUTH" id="THE_HEART_OF_THE_SOUTH"></a>THE HEART OF THE SOUTH</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br /> +<br /> +RALEIGH AND JOSEPHUS DANIELS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jedge Crutchfield give de No'th Ca'lina nigger frown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De mahkets says ouh tehapin am secon'-rate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' Mistuh Daniels, he call Raleigh his hum town.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—I wondah what kin be de mattuh wid ouh State?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Just as it is the fashion in the Middle West to +speak jestingly of Kansas, it is the fashion in the +South to treat lightly the State of North Carolina. +And just as my companion and I, long ago, on another +voyage of discovery, were eager to get into Kansas and +find out what that fabulous Commonwealth was really +like, so we became anxious, as we heard the gossip about +the "Old North State," to enter it and form our own +conclusions. The great drawback to an attempt to see +North Carolina, however, lies in the fact that North +Carolina is, so to speak, spread very thin. It has no +great solid central city occupying a place in its thoughts +and its affairs corresponding to that occupied by Richmond, +in its relation to Virginia. Like Mississippi, it is +a State of small towns and small cities. Its metropolis, +Charlotte, had, by the 1910 census, less than 35,000 inhabitants; +its seaport, Wilmington, a little more than +25,000; its capital, Raleigh, less than 20,000; its beautiful +mountain resort, Asheville, fourth city in the State, +less than 19,000.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<p>I hasten to add that the next census will undoubtedly +show considerable growth in all these cities. In Raleigh +I found every one insistent on this point. The town is +growing; it is a going place; a great deal of new building +is in progress; and when you ask about the population, +progressive citizens are prepared to do much better +by their city than the census takers did, some years ago. +They talk thirty thousand, instead of twenty, and they +are ready with astonishing statistics about the number +of students in the schools and colleges as compared with +the total population of the city—statistics showing that +though Raleigh is not large she is progressive. Which +is quite true.</p> + +<p>I recollect that Judge Francis D. Winston, former +Lieutenant Governor of the State, United States District +Attorney, and the most engaging raconteur in the +Carolinas, contributed a story to a discussion of +Raleigh's population, which occurred, one evening, at a +dinner at the Country Club.</p> + +<p>"A promoter," he said, "was once trying to borrow +money on a boom town. He went to a banker and +showed him a map, not of what the town was, but of +what he claimed it was going to be. 'Here,' he said, +'is where the town hall will stand. In this lot will be +the opera house. Over here we are going to have a +beautiful park. And on this corner we are going to +erect a tall granite office building.'</p> + +<p>"'But,' said the banker, coldly, 'we lend money only +on the basis of population.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'That's all right,' returned the promoter. 'Measured +by any known standard except an actual <i>count</i>, we +have a population of two hundred thousand.'"</p> + +<p>I shall not attempt to point this tale more than to +recommend it to the attention of the secretary of the +Chamber of Commerce in every city in the United +States.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Raleigh is situated within seven miles of the exact +center of North Carolina. The land on which the city +stands was purchased by the State, in 1792, from a man +named Joel Lane, whose former house still stands. The +town was then laid out in a one mile square, with the +site selected for the State Capitol directly at the center +of it, and lots were sold off by the State to individuals, +the proceeds of these sales being used to build the Capitol. +As a result the parks, streets and sidewalks of +the original old town still belong to the State of North +Carolina, and the city has jurisdiction over them only by +courtesy of the State government. Raleigh has, of +course, much outgrown its original dimensions, and the +government of the town, outside the original square mile +at the center, is as in other towns.</p> + +<p>While Raleigh has not the look of age which characterizes +many old southern cities, causing them to delight +the eye and the imagination, its broad streets have +here and there a building old enough to remove from +the town any air of raw newness, and to make it a homelike +looking place. The sidewalks are wide; when we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +were in Raleigh those of the principal streets were +paved largely with soft-colored old red bricks, which, +however, were being taken up and replaced with cement. +Not being a resident of Raleigh, and consequently not +having been obliged to tread the rough brick pavements +daily, I was sorry to witness this victory of utility over +beauty.</p> + +<p>One of the pleasant old buildings is the Yarborough +Hotel, at which my companion and I stayed. The Yarborough +is an exceedingly good hotel for a city of the +size of Raleigh, especially, it may be added, when that +city is in the South. The Capitol, standing among trees +in a small park, also gathers a fine flavor from age. In +one of the many simple dignified apartments of this +building my companion and I were introduced to the +gentleman who was governor of the State at the time +of our visit. It seemed to me that he had a look both +worn and apprehensive, and that, while we talked, he +was waiting for something. I don't know how I gathered +this impression, but it came to me definitely. After +we had departed from the executive chamber I asked +the gentleman who had taken us there if the governor +was ill.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied. "All our governors look like that +after they have been in office for a while."</p> + +<p>"From overwork?"</p> + +<p>"No, from an overworked jest—the jest about 'what +the Governor of North Carolina said to the Governor of +South Carolina.' Every one who meets the governor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +thinks of that joke and believes confidently that no one +has ever before thought of this application of it. So +they all pull it on him. For the first few months our +governors stand it pretty well, but after that they begin +to break down. They feel they ought to smile, but they +can't. They begin to dread meeting strangers, and to +show it in their bearing. When in private life our governor +had a very pleasant expression, but like all the +others, he has acquired, in office, the expression of an +iron dog."</p> + +<p>Raleigh's most widely-known citizen is Josephus +Daniels, Secretary of the Navy, and publisher of the +Raleigh "News and Observer." This paper, published +in the morning, and the "Times," a rival paper, published +in the afternoon, are, I believe, the only dailies in +the city.</p> + +<p>Mr. Daniels has been so much discussed that I was +greatly interested in hearing what Raleigh had to say +of him. Every one knew him personally. The men on +his paper seemed to be very fond of him; others held +various opinions.</p> + +<p>In 1894 Mr. Daniels came from Washington, D. C., +where he had been chief clerk in the Department of the +Interior, when Hoke Smith was Secretary, and acquired +the newspaper of which he has since been proprietor. +In its first years under Mr. Daniels, the paper is said +to have gone through severe financial struggles, and +there is an amusing story current, about the way the +payroll was met upon one occasion. According to this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +tale, the business manager of the paper came to Mr. +Daniels, one day, and informed him that he needed sixty +dollars more to make the payroll, and didn't know where +he was going to get it. The only ready asset in sight, +it is related, was several cases of a patent medicine +known as "Mrs. Joe Persons' Remedy," which had been +taken by the "News and Observer" in payment for advertising +space. Mr. Daniels had a few dollars, and his +business manager had a railroad pass. With these resources +the latter went out on the road and sold the +patent medicine for enough to make up the deficit.</p> + +<p>Until Mr. Daniels was appointed Secretary of the +Navy he seems to have been regarded by many citizens +of Raleigh, as a good, earnest, hard-working man, possessed +of considerable personal magnetism and a good +political nose—a man who could scent how the pack was +running, take a short-cut, and presently appear to be +leading. In other words an opportunist. Though he +has not much education, and though as a writer he is +far from polished, it is said that he has written powerful +editorials. "When his editorials have been good," said +one gentleman, "it is because he has been stirred up over +something, and because he manages sometimes to get +into his writing the intensity of his own personality." +His office used to be, and still is, when he is in Raleigh, +a sort of political headquarters, and he used to be able +to write editorials while half a dozen politicians were +sitting around his desk, talking.</p> + +<p>With his paper he has done much good in the State,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +notably by fighting consistently for prohibition and for +greater public educational advantages. The strong educational +movement in North Carolina began with a +group of men chief among whom were the late Governor +Charles B. Aycock, called "the educational governor"; +Dr. E. A. Alderman, who, though president of the University +of Virginia, is a North Carolinian and was formerly +president of the University of that State; Dr. +Charles D. McKeever who committed the State to the +principle of higher education for women, and other men +of similar high purpose. A gentleman who was far +from an unqualified admirer of Mr. Daniels, told me +that without his aid the great educational advance which +the state has certainly made of recent years could hardly +have been accomplished, and that the same thing applies +in the case of prohibition—which has been adopted in +North Carolina.</p> + +<p>"What sort of man is he?" I asked this gentleman.</p> + +<p>"He is the old type of Methodist," he said. "He is +the kind of man who believes that the whale swallowed +Jonah. He has the same concept of religion that he +had as a child. I differ with his policies, his politics, his +mental methods, but I don't think anybody here doubts +that he is trying, not only to do the moral thing himself, +but to force others to adopt, as rules for public conduct, +the exact code in which he personally believes, and which +he certainly follows. His mental processes are often +crude, yet he has much native shrewdness and the ability +to grasp situations as they arise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He does not come of the aristocratic class, which +probably accounts for his failure, when he first became +secretary, to perceive the necessity for discipline in the +navy, and the benefits of naval tradition.</p> + +<p>"He was an ardent follower—I might say swallower—of +Bryan, gobbling whole all of the "Great Commoner's" +vagaries. It has been said, more or less humorously, +but doubtless with a foundation of fact, that he +was "Secretary of War in all of Bryan's cabinets." +That shows where Bryan placed him. Yet when Bryan +broke with Wilson and made his exit from the Cabinet, +Daniels found it perfectly simple, apparently, to drop +the Bryanism which had, hitherto, been the very essence +of his life, and become a no less ardent supporter of the +President.</p> + +<p>"When he was first taken into the cabinet he evidently +regarded the finer social amenities as matters of no consequence, +or even as effeminacies. He had but little +sense of the fitness of things, and was, in consequence, +continually making <i>faux pas</i>; but he is observant; he has +learned a great deal in the course of his life as a cabinet +member, both as to his work in the Department, and as +to the niceties of formal social life."</p> + +<p>At the time of our visit to Raleigh I had not met Mr. +Daniels, nor heard him speak. Since that time I have +heard him several times and have talked with him. +Also I have talked of him with a number of men who +have been thrown more or less closely in contact with +him. As is well known, naval officers detested him with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +peculiar unanimity. This was true up to the time of +our entering the War. Whether matters have changed +greatly since then I am unable to say. One officer, well +known in the navy, said to me quite seriously that he +believed the navy would be better off without its two +best dreadnoughts if in losing them it could also lose Mr. +Daniels. Such sentiments were peculiarly unanimous +among officers. On the other hand, however, a high +officer, who has been quite close to the Secretary, informs +me that it is indeed true that he has improved as +experience has come to him. This officer stated that +when Mr. Daniels first took office he seemed to be definitely +antagonistic to officers of the navy. "He appeared +to suspect them of pulling political wires and +working in their own interests. That was in the days +when he seemed almost to encourage insubordination +among the enlisted men, by his attitude toward them, in +contrast to his attitude towards their superiors. Of +course it was demoralizing to the service. But there +has been a marked change in the Secretary since Bryan +left the Cabinet." From several sources I have heard +the same evidence. I never heard any one say that Mr. +Daniels was really an able Secretary of the Navy, but I +have heard many say that he improved.</p> + +<p>Personally he is a very likable man. His face is kind +and gentle; his features are interestingly irregular and +there are heavy wrinkles about his mouth and eyes—the +former adding something to the already humorous +twinkle of the eyes. His voice has a <i>timbre</i> reminding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +me of George M. Cohan's voice. He is hardly an orator +in the sense that Bryan is, yet he is not without simple +oratorical tricks—as for example a tremolo, as of +emotion, which I have heard him use in uttering +such a phrase as "the grea-<i>a-a-at</i> Daniel <i>Web</i>-ster!" +Also, he wears a low turnover collar and a black +string tie—a fact which would not be worth noting did +these not form a part of what amounts almost to a +uniform worn by politicians of more or less the Bryan +type. Almost invariably there seems to be something +of the minister and something of the actor in such +men.</p> + +<p>Once I asked one of the famous Washington correspondents +what manner of man Mr. Daniels was.</p> + +<p>"He's a man," he said, "that you'd like to go with on +a hunting trip in his native North Carolina. He would +be a good companion and would have a lot of funny +stories. He is full of kind intentions. Had you known +him before the War, and had he liked you, and had you +wished to take a ride upon a battleship, he would be disposed +to order up a battleship and send you for a ride, +even if, by doing so, he muddled up the fleet a little. +That would be in line with his fixing it for moving picture +people to act scenes on a battleship's deck—which +he permitted. He saw no reason why that was not +proper, and the kind of people who admire him most are +those who, likewise, see no reason why it was not proper. +The great lack in his nature is that of personal dignity—or +even the dignity which should be his because of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +position. If you are sitting beside him and he is +amiably disposed toward you, he may throw his arm +over your shoulder, or massage your knee while talking +with you.</p> + +<p>"But if some friend of his were to go to him and convince +him that he lacked dignity, he is the kind of man +who, in my judgment, would become so much the worse. +That is, if he attempted to attain dignity he would not +achieve it, but would merely grow arbitrary. That, to +my mind, shows his great ineradicable weakness, for it +not only reveals him as a man too little for his job, but +prevents his comprehending the basic thing upon which +naval discipline is founded. Nevertheless, as a man +you like him. It is as Secretary of the Navy, and particularly +as a War Secretary, that you very definitely +don't."</p> + +<p>Some time after our visit to Raleigh my companion +and I heard Secretary Daniels speak in Charleston. He +told a funny story and talked generalities about the navy. +That was before the United States entered the War. I +do not know what he meant the speech for, but what it +actually was, was a speech against preparedness. So +was the speech made on the same occasion by Lemuel P. +Padgett, chairman of the House Committee on Naval +Affairs. It was a disingenuous speech, a speech to lull +the country into confidence, a speech which, alone, should +have been sufficient to prove Mr. Padgett's unfitness to +serve on that committee. Mr. Daniels argued that +"Germany's preparedness had not kept Germany out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +war"; that seemed enough, but there was one thing he +said which utterly dumbfounded me. It was this:</p> + +<p>"<i>The Southern statesman who serves his section best, +serves the country best.</i>"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<a name="p280jpg" id="p280jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p280.jpg" width="386" height="600" alt=""The Southern Statesman who serves his section best, serves the country best."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"The Southern Statesman who serves his section best, serves the country best."</span> +</div> + +<p>Let the reader reflect for a moment upon such an utterance. +Carried a little farther what would it mean? +Would it not be equally logical to say that the man who +serves himself best serves the country best? It is the +theory of narrow sectionalism, and by implication, at +least, the theory of individualism as well. And sectionalism +and individualism are two of the great curses of +the United States.</p> + +<p>Compare with Mr. Daniels' words those of John Hay +who, veiling fine patriotism beneath a web of delicate +humor, said:</p> + +<p>"<i>In my bewilderment of origin and experience I can +only put on an aspect of deep humility in any gathering +of favorite sons, and confess that I am nothing but an +American.</i>"</p> + +<p>Or again, compare with them the famous words of +Patrick Henry:</p> + +<p>"<i>I am not a Virginian, but an American.</i>"</p> + +<p>Clearly, one point of view or the other is wrong. Perhaps +Mr. Daniels has more light on sectional questions +than had Patrick Henry or John Hay. At all events, +the Charleston audience applauded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br /> +<br /> +ITEMS FROM "THE OLD NORTH STATE"</h2> + + +<p>Two of the most interesting things we saw in +Raleigh were the model jail on the top floor of +the new County Court House, where a lot of very +honest looking rustics were confined to await trial for +making "blockade" (otherwise moonshine) whisky, and +the North Carolina Hall of History, which occupies a +floor in the fine new State Administration Building, opposite +the Capitol. At the head of the first stair landing +in the Administration Building is a memorial tablet to +William Sidney Porter ("O Henry"), who was born in +Greensboro, North Carolina, with a bust of the author, +in relief, by Lorado Taft. Porter, it may be mentioned, +was a connection of Worth Bagley, the young ensign +who was the only American naval officer killed in the +Spanish-American War. Bagley was a brother of Mrs. +Josephus Daniels. A monument to him stands in the +park before the Capitol. Aside from Porter, the only +author well known in our time whom I heard mentioned +in connection with North Carolina, was the Rev. +Thomas Dixon, whose name is most familiar, perhaps, +in connection with the moving-picture called "The Birth +of a Nation," taken from one of his novels. Mr. Dixon +was born in the town of Shelby, North Carolina, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +was for some years pastor of the Tabernacle Baptist +Church, Raleigh.</p> + +<p>The Hall of History, containing a great variety of +State relics, is one of the most fascinating museums I +ever visited. Too much praise cannot be given Colonel +Fred A. Olds and Mr. Marshall De Lancey Haywood, +of the North Carolina Historical Society, for making it +what it is. As with the Confederate Museum in Richmond, +so, here, it is impossible to give more than a faint +idea of the interest of the museum's contents. Among +the exhibits of which I made note, I shall, however, mention +a few. There was a letter written from Paris in +the handwriting of John Paul Jones, requesting a copy +of the Constitution of North Carolina; there was the Ku +Klux warning issued to one Ben Turner of Northampton +County; and there was an old newspaper advertisement +signed by James J. Selby, a tailor, dated at Raleigh, +June 24, 1824, offering a reward of ten dollars for the +capture and return of two runaways: "apprentice boys, +legally bound, named William and Andrew Johnson." +The last named boy was the same Andrew Johnson who +later became a distinctly second-rate President of the +United States. Also there was a peculiarly tragic Civil +War memento, consisting of a note which was found +clasped in the dead hand of Colonel Isaac Avery, of the +6th North Carolina Regiment, who was killed while +commanding a brigade on the second day at Gettysburg.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Tell my father I died with my face to the enemy.</i></p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>These words were written by the fallen officer with his +left hand, his right arm having been rendered useless +by his mortal wound. For ink he used his own life +blood.</p> + +<p>Also in the museum may be seen the chart-book of +Blackbeard, the pirate, who, one of the curators of the +museum informed me, was the same person as Edward +Teach. Blackbeard, who is commemorated in the name +of Blackbeard's Island, off the coast of South Georgia, +met his fate when he encountered a cruiser fitted out by +Governor Spotswood of Virginia and commanded by +Lieutenant Maynard. Maynard found Blackbeard's +ship at Okracoke Inlet, on the North Carolina coast. +Before he and his men could board the pirate vessel the +pirates came and boarded them. Severe fighting ensued, +but the pirates were defeated, Maynard himself +killing Blackbeard in single combat with swords. The +legend around Okracoke is that Blackbeard's bad fortune +on this occasion came to him because of the unlucky +number of his matrimonial adventures, the story being +that he had thirteen wives. It is said also that his vanquishers +cut off his head and hung it at the yard-arm +of their ship, throwing his body into the sea, and that +as soon as the body struck the water the head began to +call, "Come on, Edward!" whereupon the headless body +swam three times around the ship. Personally I think +there may be some slight doubt about the authenticity +of this part of the story. For, while from one point of +view we might say that to swim about in such aimless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +fashion would be the very thing a man without a head +might do, yet from another point of view the question +arises: Would a man whose head had just been severed +from his body feel like taking such a long swim?</p> + +<p>And what a rich lot of other historic treasures!</p> + +<p>Did you know, for instance, that Flora Macdonald, +the Scottish heroine, who helped Prince Charles Edward +to escape, dressed as a maidservant, after the Battle of +Culloden, in 1746, came to America with her husband +and many relatives just before the Revolutionary War +and settled at Cross Creek (now Fayetteville), North +Carolina? When General Donald Macdonald raised +the Royal standard at the time of the Revolution, her +husband and many of her kinsmen joined him, and these +were later captured at the Battle of Moore's Creek +Bridge, in 1776, and taken as prisoners to Philadelphia. +Yes; and Flora Macdonald's garter-buckles are now in +the museum at Raleigh.</p> + +<p>A portrait of Captain James J. Waddell, C. S. N., who +was a member of a famous North Carolina family, recalls +the story of his post-bellum cruise, in command of +the <i>Shenandoah</i>, when, not knowing that the War was +over, he preyed for months on Federal commerce in the +South Seas.</p> + +<p>The museum of course contains many uniforms worn +by distinguished soldiers of the Confederacy and many +old flags, among them one said to be the original flag of +the Confederacy. This flag was designed by Orren R. +Smith of Louisburg, North Carolina, and was made in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +that town. The journals of the Confederate Congress +show that countless designs for a flag were submitted, +that the Committee on a Flag reported that all designs +had been rejected and returned, the committee having +adopted one of its own; nevertheless Mr. Smith's claim +to have designed the flag finally adopted is so well supported +that the Confederate Veterans, at their General +Reunion held in Richmond in 1915, passed a resolution +endorsing it.</p> + +<p>Also in the museum is the shot-riddled smokestack of +the Confederate ram <i>Albemarle</i>, which was built on the +farm of Peter E. Smith, on Roanoke River, and is said +to have been the first vessel ever launched sidewise. +The <i>Albemarle</i>, after a glorious career, was sunk by +Lieutenant Cushing, U. S. N., in his famous exploit with +a torpedo carried on a pole at the bow of a launch. It +will be remembered that the launch was sunk by the +shock and that only Cushing and one member of his +crew survived, swimming away under fire.</p> + +<p>North Carolina also claims—and not without some +justice—that the first English settlement on this continent +was not that at Jamestown, but the one made by +Sir Walter Raleigh's expedition, under Amadas and Barlowe, +which landed at Roanoke Island, August 4, 1584, +and remained there for some weeks. The Jamestown +Colony, say the North Carolinians, was merely the first +to <i>stick</i>.</p> + +<p>Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, across the sound from +Roanoke Island, is the site of the first flight of a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +in an aeroplane, the Wright brothers having tried out +their first crude plane there, among the Kill-Devil sand +dunes. A part of the original plane is preserved in the +museum. Nor must I leave the museum without mentioning +the bullet-riddled hat of General W. R. Cox, and +his gray military coat, with a blood-stained gash in +front, where a solid shell ripped across. General Cox's +son, Mr. Albert Cox, was with us in the museum when +we stopped to look at this grim souvenir. "It tore father +open in front," he said, "spoiled a coat which had +cost him $550, Confederate, and damaged his watchchain. +Nevertheless he lived to take part in the last +charge at Appomattox, and the watchchain wasn't so +badly spoiled but what, with the addition of some new +links, it could be worn." And he showed us where the +chain, which he himself was wearing at the time, had +been repaired.</p> + +<p>I must say something, also, of the North Carolina College +of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts, an institution +doing splendid work, and doing it efficiently, both in its +own buildings and through extension courses. Fifty-two +per cent. of the students at this college earn their +way through, either wholly or in part. And better yet, +eighty-three per cent. of the graduates stick to the practical +work afterwards—an unusually high record.</p> + +<p>The president of the college, Dr. D. H. Hill, is a son +of the Confederate general of the same name, who has +been called "the Ironsides of the South."</p> + +<p>There are a number of other important educational<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +institutions in and about Raleigh, and there is one +which, if not important, is at all events, a curio. This is +"Latta University," consisting of a few flimsy shacks +in the negro village of Oberlin, on the outskirts of +Raleigh.</p> + +<p>"Professor" Latta is one of the rare negroes who combines +the habit with white folks of the old fashioned +southern darky, and the astuteness of the "new issue" +in high finance. Years ago he conceived the idea of +establishing a negro school near Raleigh, to which he +gave the above mentioned name. He had no funds, no +credit and little or no education. Nevertheless he had +ideas, the central one of which was that New England +was the land of plenty. With the "university" in his +head, and with a miscellaneous collection of photographs, +he managed to make a tour of northern cities, and came +back with his pockets lined. As a result he procured a +little land, put up frame buildings, gathered a few youths +about him, and was fully launched on his career as a +university president.</p> + +<p>So long as the money held out, Latta was content to +drift along with his school. When he came to the bottom +of the bag he invested the last of his savings in another +ticket north and, armed with his title of "president," +made addresses to northern audiences and replenished +his finances with their contributions.</p> + +<p>Finally, as the great act of his career, Latta managed +to get passage to Europe and was gone for several +months. When he came back he had added a manu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>script +to his possessions: "The History of My Life and +Work," which he published, and which is one of the most +curious volumes I have ever seen.</p> + +<p>It is illustrated—largely with photographs of the +author. One of the pictures is entitled, "Rev. M. L. +Latta when he first commenced to build Latta University." +This shows Latta with the tips of his fingers resting +on a small table. Another picture shows him posed +with one hand raised and the other resting on what is +unmistakably the same little table. The latter picture, +however, has the caption, "Rev. M. L. Latta making a +speech in Pawtucket, R. I., at Y. M. C. A." Both pictures +were all too clearly taken in a photographer's +studio. Another page shows us, "Rev. M. L. Latta and +three of his Admirable Presidents." In this case Latta +merely takes for himself the upper right-hand corner, +the other eminent persons pictured being ex-Presidents +Roosevelt, McKinley and Cleveland. The star illustration, +however, is a "made up" picture, in which a photograph +of Latta, looking spick-and-span, has been pasted +onto what is very obviously a painted picture of a hall +full of people in evening dress, all of them gazing at +Latta, who stands upon the stage, dignified, suave, impressive, +and all dressed-up by the brush of the "re-toucher." +This picture is called: "In the Auditorium +at London, in 1894." Similar artfulness is shown in +pictures of the "university" buildings, where the same +frame structure, photographed from opposite ends, appears +in one case as, "Young Ladies' Dormitory," and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +in the other as, "Chapel and Young Men's Dormitory."</p> + +<p>In his autobiography, Latta tells how, in the course +of getting his own schooling, he raised money by teaching +a district school during vacation. He says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>After paying my expenses, I had nearly a hundred dollars to +return to school with. When I returned I was able to dress very +neatly indeed, and the young ladies received me very cordially on +the green during social hour. Before I taught school it was a +common saying among the young ladies and young men "Latta"; +but after I returned with a hundred dollars it was "Mr. Latta" +all over the campus. I would hear the young ladies saying among +themselves, "I bet Mr. Latta will not go with you—he will correspond +with me this afternoon." I paid no attention to it. I +said to myself, "Don't you see what a hundred dollars will do?"</p></div> + +<p>In another place the Professor reveals how he came +to write his book: "Professor King, one of the teachers +at Latta University said to me, 'If I had done what +you have done I would have wrote a history of my life +several years ago.'"</p> + +<p>The best part of the book, however, gives us Latta's +account of his doings in London:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Just before I left the city of London I was invited by a distinguished +friend, a close relation to Queen Victoria, to make +a speech. He told me there would be a meeting in one of the +large halls in that city. I can't just think of the name of the +hall. He invited me to be present. The distinguished friend +that I have just mentioned presided over the meeting. There was +an immense audience present. If memory serves me right, I was +the only Negro in the hall. The gentleman came to me and +asked if I would make a speech. I told him I had already deliv<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>ered +one address, besides several sermons I had preached, and I +thought that I would not speak again during my stay. I accepted +the invitation, however, and spoke.</p></div> + +<p>The Professor then tells how he was introduced as +one whose addresses were "among the ablest ever delivered +in London." Also he gives his speech in full. +Great events followed. His distinguished unnamed +friend, the "close relation of the Queen," came to him +soon after, he says, and asked him if he had "ever been +to the palace."</p> + +<p>Continues Latta:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>He said to me, "If you will come over before you leave the +city, and call to see me, I will take you to the palace with me +and introduce you to the Queen." I told him I would do so, +that I had heard a good deal about the royal throne, and I would +be very much interested to see the palace. He said he thought +I would, because the government was very different from ours.</p> + +<p>I called at his residence as I had promised, and he went with +me to the palace. The Queen knew him, of course. He was received +very cordially. Everything shined so much like gold in +the palace that I had to stop and think where I was. He introduced +me to the Queen, and told her I was from North America. +He told her that I spoke at a meeting he presided over, and he +enjoyed my speech very much. He told her we had an immense +audience, and all the people were well pleased with the speech. +The Queen said she was more than glad to meet me, and she +would have liked very much to have been present, and heard the +speech that her cousin said I made.... She told me she hoped +that would not be the last visit I would make to their city. I +shook hands with her and bade her good-bye. The distinguished +friend carried me and showed me the different departments of +the palace, and I bade him good-bye.</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>In Raleigh, I think, they rather like Latta. It amuses +them to see him go north and get money, and it is said +that he appreciates the situation himself. He ought to. +Not many southern negroes have such comfortable +homes as "Latta University's" best kept-up building—the +residence of the President.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br /> +<br /> +UNDER ST. MICHAEL'S CHIMES</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And where St. Michael's chimes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fragrant hours exquisitely tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making the world one loveliness, like a true poet's rhymes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Richard Watson Gilder.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>It has been said—by Mrs. T. P. O'Connor, I think—that +whereas twenty-five letters of introduction for +New York may produce one invitation to dinner, +one letter of introduction for Charleston will produce +twenty-five dinner invitations. If this be an +exaggeration it is, at least, exaggeration in the right +direction; that is, along the lines of truth. For though +Charleston's famed "exclusiveness" is very real, making +letters of introduction very necessary to strangers desiring +to see something of the city's social life, such +letters produce, in Charleston, as Mrs. O'Connor suggests, +results definite and delightful.</p> + +<p>Immediately upon our arrival, my companion and I +sent out several letters we had brought with us, and +presently calling cards began to arrive for us at the +hotel. Also there came courteous little notes, delivered +in most cases by hand, according to the old Charleston +custom—a custom surviving pleasantly from times<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +when there were no postal arrangements, but plenty of +slaves to run errands. Even to this day, I am told, invitations +to Charleston's famous St. Cecilia balls are +delivered by hand.</p> + +<p>One of the notes we received revealed to us a characteristic +custom of the city. It contained an invitation +to occupy places in the pew of a distinguished family, at +St. Michael's Church, on the approaching Sunday morning. +In order to realize the significance of such an +invitation one must understand that St. Michael's is +to Charleston, socially, what St. George's, Hanover +Square, is to London. A beautiful old building, surrounded +by a historic burial ground and surmounted by +a delicate white spire containing fine chimes, it strongly +suggests the architectural touch of Sir Christopher +Wren; but it is not by Wren, for he died a number of +years before 1752, when the cornerstone of St. Michael's +was laid. When the British left Charleston—or +Charles Town, as the name of the place stands in the +early records—after occupying it during the Revolutionary +War, they took with them, to the horror of the +city, the bells of St. Michael's, and the church books. +The silver, however, was saved, having been concealed +on a plantation some miles from Charleston. Later the +bells were returned.</p> + +<p>Pre-Revolutionary Charleston was divided into two +parishes: St. Michael's below Broad Street, and St. +Philip's above. Under governmental regulation citizens +were not allowed to hold pews in both churches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +unless they owned houses in both parishes. St. Michael's, +being nearer the battery, in which region are the +finest old houses, had, perhaps, the wealthier congregation, +but St. Philip's is, to my mind, the more beautiful +church of the two, largely because of the open space +before it, and the graceful outward bend of Church +Street in deference to the projecting portico.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<a name="p300jpg" id="p300jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p300.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="St. Philip's is the more beautiful for the open space before it, and the graceful +outward bend of Church Street in deference to the projecting portico" title="" /> +<span class="caption">St. Philip's is the more beautiful for the open space before it, and the graceful +outward bend of Church Street in deference to the projecting portico</span> +</div> + +<p>When the Civil War broke out St. Philip's bells were +melted and made into cannon, but those of St. Michael's +were left in place until cannonballs from the blockading +fleet struck the church, when they were taken down and +sent, together with the silver plate, to Columbia, South +Carolina, for safe-keeping. But Columbia was, as matters +turned out, the worst place to which they could have +been sent. The silver was looted by troops under Sherman, +and the bells were destroyed when the city was +burned. The fragments were, however, collected and +sent to England, whence the bells originally came, and +there they were recast. Their music—perhaps the most +characteristic of all the city's characteristic sounds—has +been called "the voice of Charleston." Of the silver +only a few fragments have been returned. One piece +was found in a pawn shop in New York, and another in +a small town in Ohio. <i>Mais que voulez-vous? C'est +la guerre!</i></p> + +<p>In mentioning Charleston churches one becomes involved +in a large matter. In 1801, when St. Mary's, the +first Roman Catholic church in the city, was erected, +there were already eighteen churches in existence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +among them the present Huguenot Church, at the corner +of Church and Queen Streets, which, though a very old +building, is nevertheless the second Huguenot Church to +occupy the same site, the first, built in 1687, having been +destroyed in the great conflagration of 1796, which very +nearly destroyed St. Philip's, as well. A number of +the old Huguenot families long ago became Episcopalians, +and the descendants of many of the early French +settlers of Charleston, buried in the Huguenot churchyard, +are now parishioners of St. Michael's and St. +Philip's. The Huguenot Church in Charleston is the +only church of this denomination in America; its liturgy +is translated from the French, and services are held in +French on the third Sunday of November, January and +March. A Unitarian Church was established in 1817, +as an offshoot of the Scotch Presbyterian Church, the +old White Meeting House of which (built 1685, used by +the British as a granary, during the Revolution, and +torn down 1806) gave Meeting Street its name. Early +in the history of the Unitarian Church, the home of +which was a former Presbyterian Church building, in +Archdale Street, Dr. Samuel Gilman, a young minister +from Gloucester, Massachusetts, became its pastor. +This was the same Dr. Gilman who wrote "Fair Harvard."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In only one instance did the letters of introduction we +sent out produce a response of the kind one would not +be surprised at receiving in some rushing city of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +North: a telephone call. A lady, not a native Charlestonian, +but one who has lived actively about the world, +rang us up, bade us welcome, and invited us to dinner.</p> + +<p>But she was a very modern sort of lady, as witness +not only her use of the telephone—an instrument which +seems in Charleston almost an anachronism; as, for that +matter, the automobile does, too—but her dinner hour, +which was eight o'clock. Very few Charleston families +dine at night. Dinner invitations are usually for three, +or perhaps half-past three or four, in the afternoon, and +there is a light supper in the evening. I judge that this +custom holds also in some other cities of the region, for +I remember calling at the office of a large investment +company in Wilmington, North Carolina, to find it +wearing, at three in the afternoon, the deserted look of +a New York office between twelve and one o'clock. +Every one had gone home to dinner. Mr. W. D. Howells, +in his charming essay on Charleston, makes mention +of this matter:</p> + +<p>"The place," he says, "has its own laws and usages, +and does not trouble itself to conform to those of other +aristocracies. In London the best society dines at eight +o'clock, and in Madrid at nine, but in Charleston it dines +at four.... It makes morning calls as well as afternoon +calls, but as the summer approaches the midday +heat must invite rather to the airy leisure of the verandas, +and the cool quiescence of interiors darkened +against the fly in the morning and the mosquito at night-fall."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>The household fly is a year-round resident of Charleston, +by grace of a climate which permits—barely permits, +at its coldest—the use of the open surrey as a +public vehicle in all seasons. Sometimes, during a winter +cold-snap, when a ride in a surrey is not a pleasant +thing to contemplate, when residents of old mansions +have shut themselves into a room or two heated by grate +fires, then the fly seems to have disappeared, but let the +cold abate a little and out he comes again like some +rogue who, after brief and spurious penance, resumes +the evil of his ways.</p> + +<p>The stranger going to a humble Charleston house will +find on the gate a coiled spring at the end of which hangs +a bell. By touching the spring and causing the bell +to jingle he makes his presence known. The larger +houses have upon their gates bell-pulls or buttons which +cause bells to ring within. This is true of all houses +which have front gardens. The garden gate constitutes, +by custom, a barrier comparable in a degree with +the front door of a Northern house; a usage arising, +doubtless, out of the fact that almost all important +Charleston houses have not only gardens, but first and +second story galleries, and that in hot weather these +galleries become, as it were, exterior rooms, in which no +small part of the family life goes on. Many Charleston +houses have their gardens to the rear, and themselves +abut upon the sidewalk. Calling at such houses, you +ring at what seems to be an ordinary front door, but +when the door is opened you find yourself entering not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +upon a hall, but upon an exterior gallery running to the +full depth of the house, down which you walk to the +actual house door. In still other houses—and this is +true of some of the most notable mansions of the city, +including the Pringle, Huger, and Rhett houses—admittance +is by a street door of the normal sort, opening +upon a hall, and the galleries and gardens are at the side +or back, the position of the galleries in relation to the +house depending upon what point of the compass the +house faces, the desirable thing being to get the breezes +which are prevalently from the southwest and the westward.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Charleston is very definitely two things: It is old, +and it is a city.</p> + +<p>There is the story of a young lady who asked a +stranger if he did not consider it a unique town.</p> + +<p>He agreed that it was, and inquired whether she knew +the derivation of the word "unique."</p> + +<p>When she replied negatively he informed her that the +word came from the Latin <i>unus</i>, meaning "one," and +<i>equus</i>, meaning "a horse"; otherwise "a one-horse town."</p> + +<p>This tale, however, is a libel, for despite the general +superstition of chambers of commerce to the contrary, +the estate of cityhood is not necessarily a matter of +population nor yet of commerce. That is one of the +things which, if we were unaware of it before, we may +learn from Charleston. Charleston is not great in +population; it is not very great, as seaports go, in trade.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +Were cities able to talk with one another as men can, +and as foolishly as men often do, I have no doubt that +many a hustling middle-western city would patronize +Charleston, precisely as a parvenue might patronize a +professor of astronomy; nevertheless, Charleston has a +stronger, deeper-rooted city entity than all the cities of +the Middle West rolled into one. This is no exaggeration. +Where modern American cities strive to be like +one another, Charleston strives to be like nothing whatsoever. +She does not have to strive to <i>be</i> something. +She <i>is</i> something. She understands what most other +American cities do not understand, and what, in view of +our almost unrestricted immigration laws, it seems the +National Government cannot be made to understand: +namely, that mere numbers do not count for everything; +that there is the matter of quality of population to +be considered. Therefore, though Charleston's white +population is no greater than that of many a place which +would own itself frankly a small town, Charleston +knows that by reason of the character of its population +it is a great city. And that is precisely the case. +Charleston people are city people <i>par excellence</i>. They +have the virtues of city people, the vices of city people, +and the civilization and sophistication of those who reside +in the most aristocratic capitals. For that is another +thing that Charleston is; it is unqualifiedly the +aristocratic capital of the United States; the last stronghold +of a unified American upper class; the last remaining +American city in which Madeira and Port and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +<i>noblesse oblige</i> are fully and widely understood, and are +employed according to the best traditions.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p328jpg" id="p328jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p328.jpg" width="600" height="426" alt="Charleston has a stronger, deeper-rooted city entity than all the cities of the middle west rolled into one" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Charleston has a stronger, deeper-rooted city entity than all the cities of the middle west rolled into one</span> +</div> + +<p>I have been told of a lady who remarked that Charleston +was "the biggest little place" she ever saw. I say +the same. The littleness of the place, it is sometimes +pointed out, is expressed by the "vast cousinship" which +constitutes Charleston society, but it is to my mind expressed +much better in the way bicyclists leave their +machines leaning against the curb at the busiest parts of +main shopping streets. Its bigness, upon the other +hand, is expressed by the homes from which some of +those bicyclists come, by the cultivation which exists in +those homes, and has existed there for generations, by +the amenities of life as they are comprehended and observed, +by the wealth of the city's tradition and the +richness of its background. Nor is that background a +mere arras of recollection. It exists everywhere in the +wood and brick and stone of ancient and beautiful buildings, +in iron grilles and balconies absolutely unrivaled +in any other American city, and equaled only in European +cities most famous for their artistry in wrought +iron. It exists also in venerable institutions—the first +orphanage established in the United States; the William +Enston Home; the Public Library, one of the first and +now one of the best libraries in the country; the art +museum, the St. Cecilia Society, and various old clubs. +More intimately it exists within innumerable old homes, +which are treasure-houses of fine old English and early +American furniture and of portraits—portraits by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +Sir Joshua, by Stuart, Copley, Trumbull, and most of +the other portrait painters who painted from the time +the Colonies began to become civilized to the time of the +Civil War—among them S. F. B. Morse, who, I believe +it is not generally known, made a considerable reputation +as a portrait painter, in Charleston, before he made +himself a world figure by inventing the telegraph.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p320jpg" id="p320jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p320.jpg" width="600" height="417" alt="Nor is the Charleston background a mere arras of recollection. It exists everywhere in the wood and brick and stone +of ancient and beautiful buildings, in iron grilles and balconies unrivalled in any other American city...." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Nor is the Charleston background a mere arras of recollection. It exists everywhere in the wood and brick and stone +of ancient and beautiful buildings, in iron grilles and balconies unrivalled in any other American city....</span> +</div> + +<p>Even without seeing these private treasures the visitor +to Charleston will see enough to convince him that +Charleston is indeed "unique"—though not in the sense +implied in the story—that it is the most intimately beautiful +city upon the American continent.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="p316jpg" id="p316jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p316.jpg" width="500" height="436" alt="In the doorway and gates of the Smyth house, in Legaré Street, I was struck +with a Venetian suggestion" title="" /> +<span class="caption">In the doorway and gates of the Smyth house, in Legaré Street, I was struck +with a Venetian suggestion</span> +</div> + +<p>To call Charleston "unique," and immediately thereafter +to liken it to other places may seem paradoxical. +These likenesses are, however, evanescent. It is not +that Charleston is actually like other places, but that +here in a church building, there in an old tile roof, +wrought iron gate, or narrow cobbled street, the visitor +will find himself delicately reminded of Old World towns +and cities. Mr. Howells, for example, found on the +East Battery a faint suggestion of Venetian palaces, and +in the doorway and gates of the Smyth house, in Legaré +Street, I was struck, also, with a Venetian suggestion so +strange and subtle that I could not quite account for it. +At night some of the old narrow streets, between Meeting +Street and Bay, made me think of streets in the old +part of Paris, on the left bank of the Seine; or again I +would stop before an ancient brick house which was +Flemish, or which—in the case of houses diagonally op<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>posite +St. Philip's Church—exampled the rude architecture +of an old French village, stucco walls colored and +chipped, red tile roof and all. The busy part of King +Street, on a Saturday night when the fleet was in, made +me think of Havana, and the bluejackets seemed to me, +for the moment, to be American sailors in a foreign +port; and once, on the same evening's walk, when I +chanced to look to the westward across Marion Square, +I found myself transported to the central <i>place</i> of a Belgian +city, with a slope-shouldered church across the way +masquerading as a <i>hôtel de ville</i>, and the sidewalk lights +at either side figuring in my imagination as those of +pleasant terrace cafés. So it was always. The very +hotel in which we stayed—the Charleston—is like no +other hotel in the United States, though it has about it +something which caused me to think of the old Southern, +in St. Louis. Still, it is not like the Southern. It is +more like some old hotel in a provincial city of France—large +and white, with a pleasing unevenness of floor, +and, best of all, a great inner court which, in provincial +France, might be a <i>remise</i>, but is here a garden. If I +mistake not, carriages and coaches did in earlier times +drive through the arched entrance, now the main doorway, +and into this courtyard, where passengers alighted +and baggage was taken down. The Planter's Hotel, +now a ruin, opposite the Huguenot Church, antedates all +others in the city, and used to be the fashionable gathering +place for wealthy Carolinians and their families who +came to Charleston annually for the racing season.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p305jpg" id="p305jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p305.jpg" width="600" height="331" alt="Or, opposite St. Philip's, a perfect example of the rude architecture of an old French village; stucco walls, tinted +and chipped, red tile roofs and all" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Or, opposite St. Philip's, a perfect example of the rude architecture of an old French village; stucco walls, tinted +and chipped, red tile roofs and all</span> +</div> + +<p>The fact that Charleston has a rather important art +museum and that its library is one of the four oldest +town libraries in the country, no less than the fact that +the city was, in its day, a great racing center, contribute +to an understanding of the spirit of the place. The +present Charleston Library is not the first public library +started in the city. Not by any means! For it was +founded as late as 1748, and the original public library +of Charleston was the first one of the kind in the country, +having been started about the beginning of the 18th +century. Old records of this library still exist, showing +that citizens voted so many skins to its support. Probably +the most valuable possession of the present library +are its files of Charleston newspapers, dating from 1732 +to the present time, including three files covering the +War of 1812, and two covering the Civil War. These +files are consulted by persons from all over the United +States, for historical material. The library has recently +moved into a good modern building. In the old building +there was a separate entrance at the back for ladies, +and it is only lately that ladies have been allowed full +membership in the Library Society, and have entered by +the front door. The former custom, I suppose, represented +certain old-school sentiments as to "woman's +place" such as I find expressed in "Reminiscences of +Charleston," by Charles Fraser, published in 1854. Declares +Mr. Fraser:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The ambition for literary distinction is now very prevalent with +the sex. But without any disposition to undervalue their claims,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +whenever I hear of a female traveler clambering the Alps, or describing +the classic grounds of Greece and Italy, publishing her +musings in the holy land, or revealing the mysteries of the +harem, I cannot but think that for every success obtained some +appropriate duty has been neglected.</p> + +<p>I except the poetess, for hers are the effusions of the heart and +the imagination, prompted by nature and uttered because they are +irrepressible. Many females travel for the purpose of writing +and publishing books—whilst Mrs. Heman's, Mrs. Osgood's, and +Mrs. Sigourney's volumes may be regarded as grateful offerings +to the muse in return for her inspiration.</p></div> + +<p>It is hard not to be irritated, even now, with the man +who wrote that, especially in view of the fact that the +two most interesting books to come out of the Carolinas +of recent years are both by women: one of them being +"Charleston—the Place and the People," by Mrs. St. +Julien Ravenel, a volume any chapter of which is worth +the whole of Mr. Fraser's "Reminiscences," and the +other "A Woman Rice-Planter," by "Patience Pennington," +otherwise Mrs. John Julius Pringle (née Alston), +who lives on her plantation near Georgetown, South +Carolina.</p> + +<p>The Carolina Jockey Club subscribed regularly to the +support of the library, and now that that club is no more, +its chief memorial may be said to rest there. This club +was probably the first racing club in the country, and it +is interesting to note that the old cement pillars from +the Washington Race Course at Charleston were taken, +when that course was abandoned, and set up at the Belmont +Park course, near New York.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + +<p>The turf history of Carolina began (according to the +"South Carolina Gazette," dated February 1, 1734) in +that same year, on the first Tuesday in February. One +of the prizes was a saddle and bridle valued at £20. +The riders were white men and the course was a green +at Charleston Neck, near where the lower depot of the +South Carolina Railroad now stands. In a "History of +the Turf in South Carolina," which I found in the +library, I learned that Mr. Daniel Ravenel bred fine +horses on his plantation, Wantoot, in St. John's Parish, +as early as 1761, that Mr. Frank Huger had imported +an Arabian horse, and that many other gentlemen were +importing British running horses, and were engaged in +breeding. The book refers to the old York Course, later +called the New Market Course. A long search did not, +however, enable me to establish the date on which the +Jockey Club was founded. It was clearly a going institution +in 1792, for under date of Wednesday, February +15, in that year, I found the record of a race for the +Jockey Club Purse—"four mile-heats—weight for age—won +by Mr. Lynch's <i>Foxhunter</i>, after a well contested +race of four heats, beating Mr. Sumter's <i>Ugly</i>, who won +the first heat; Col. Washington's <i>Rosetta</i>, who won the +second heat; Capt. Alston's <i>Betsy Baker</i>," etc., etc.</p> + +<p>The Civil War practically ended the Jockey Club, +though a feeble effort was, for a time, made to carry it +on. In 1900 the club properties and the funds remaining +in the club treasury were transferred as an endowment +to the Charleston Library Society. The proceeds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +from this endowment add to the library's income by +about two thousand dollars annually. Other items of +interest in connection with the Carolina Jockey Club are +that Episcopal Church conventions used to be held in +Charleston during the racing season, so that the attending +parsons might take in the races; that the Jockey Club +Ball used to be the great ball of the Charleston season, +as the second St. Cecilia Ball became later and now is; +that the Charleston Club, a most delightful club, founded +in 1852, was an outgrowth of the Jockey Club; and that +the Jockey Club's old Sherries, Ports and Madeiras went +to New York where they were purchased by Delmonico—among +them a Calderon de la Barca Madeira of 1848, +and a Peter Domecq Sherry of 1818.</p> + +<p>Mr. S. A. Nies, one of the old employees of Delmonico's, +tells me that the Calderon de la Barca of the +above mentioned year is all gone, but that Delmonico's +still has a few bottles of the same wine of the vintage +of 1851.</p> + +<p>"This wine," Mr. Nies said, "is listed on our wine +card at $6.00 per bottle. It is not the best Madeira that +we have, although it is a very fine one. Recently we +served a bottle of Thompson's Auction Madeira, of +which the year is not recognizable on the label, but which +to my knowledge was an old wine forty years ago. +This wine brought $25.00 a bottle and was worth it.</p> + +<p>"The Peter Domecq Sherry of 1818 does not figure +on our wine list as we have but a few bottles left. It +is $20.00 a bottle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The prices brought to-day by old Madeiras and Sherries +do not represent their real values. One has but to +look at the compound interest of savings banks to realize +that these wines should be selling at four times the price +they are; but unfortunately, since the advent of Scotch +whisky in the American market, the American palate +seems to have deteriorated, and if the wines were listed +at the price they ought to bring, we could not sell them. +As it is, the demand for the very rare old wines is irregular +and infrequent. We keep them principally to preserve +our reputation; not for the money there is in it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br /> +<br /> +HISTORY AND ARISTOCRACY</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cool shade of aristocracy....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Sir W. F. P. Napier.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Just now, when we are being unpleasantly awakened +to the fact that our vaunted American melting-pot +has not been doing its work; when some +of us are perhaps wondering whether the quality of +metal produced by the crucible will ever be of the best; +it is comforting to reflect that a city whose history, traditions +and great names are so completely involved with +Americanism in its highest forms, a city we think of as +ultra-American, is peculiarly a melting-pot product.</p> + +<p>The original Charleston colonists were English and +Irish, sent out under Colonel Sayle, in 1669, by the +Lords Proprietors, to whom Charles II had granted a +tract of land in the New World, embracing the present +States of Georgia and North and South Carolina. +These colonists touched at Port Royal—where the +Marine Barracks now are (and ought not to be)—but +settled on the west side of the Ashley River, across from +where Charleston stands. It was not until 1680 that +they transferred their settlement to the present site +of the city, naming the place Charles Town in honor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +of the King. In 1671 the colony contained 263 men +able to bear arms, 69 women and 59 children. In 1674, +when New York was taken by the English from the +Dutch, a number of the latter moved down to the Carolina +colony. French Protestants had, at that time, +already begun to arrive, and more came after the revocation +of the Edict of Nantes, in 1685. In 1680 Germans +came. By 1684 there were four Huguenot settlements +in Carolina. In 1696 a Quaker was governor +for a short time, and in the same year a body of New +Englanders arrived from Dorchester, Massachusetts, +establishing a town which they called Dorchester, near +the present town of Summerville, a few miles from +Charleston. At that time a number of Scottish immigrants +had already arrived, though more came in 1715 +and 1745, after the defeat of the Highlanders. From +1730 to 1750 new colonists came from Switzerland, Holland +and Germany. As early as 1740 there were +several Jewish families in Charleston, and some of +the oldest and most respected Jewish families in the +United States still reside there. Also, when the English +drove the Acadians from Canada in 1755, twelve hundred +of them immigrated to Carolina. By 1790, then, +the city had a population of a little more than 15,000, +which was about half the number of inhabitants then +contained in the city of New York. In the case of +Charleston, however, more than one half her people, at +that time, were negroes, slavery having been introduced +by Sir John Yeamans, an early British governor. By<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +1850 the city had about 20,000 white citizens and 23,000 +blacks, and by 1880 some 7,500 more, of which additional +number two thirds were negroes. The present population +is estimated at 65,000, which makes Charleston a +place of about the size of Rockford, Illinois, Sioux City, +Iowa, or Covington, Kentucky; but as, in the case of +Charleston, more than half this number is colored, +Charleston is, if the white population only is considered, +a place of approximately 30,000 inhabitants, or, roughly +speaking, about the size of Poughkeepsie, N. Y., or Colorado +Springs, Colorado.</p> + +<p>In area, also, Charleston is small, covering less than +four square miles. This is due to the position of the +city on a peninsula formed by the convergence and confluence +of the Ashley and Cooper Rivers, which meet at +Charleston's beautiful Battery precisely as the Hudson +River and the East River meet at the Battery in New +York. The shape of Charleston, indeed, greatly resembles +that of Manhattan Island, and though her harbor +and her rivers are neither so large nor so deep as those +of the port of New York, they are altogether adequate +to a considerable maritime activity.</p> + +<p>The Charleston Chamber of Commerce (which, like +everything else in Charleston dates from long ago, having +been founded in 1748) quotes President Taft as +calling this port the most convenient one to Panama—a +statement which the New Orleans Chamber of Commerce +is in position to dispute. The fact remains, how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>ever, +that Charleston's position on the map justifies the +Chamber of Commerce's alliterative designation of the +place as "The Plumb-line Port to Panama." This is so +true that if Charleston should one day be shaken loose +from its moorings by an earthquake—something not unknown +there—and should fall due south upon the map, +it would choke up the mouth of the Canal, were not +Cuba interposed, to catch the debris.</p> + +<p>Before the Civil War, Charleston was the greatest cotton +shipping port of the country, and it still handles +large amounts of cotton and rice. Until a few years ago +South Carolina was the chief rice producing State in +the Union, and history records that the first rice planted +in the Carolinas, if not in the country, was secured and +sown by an early governor of Carolina, Thomas Smith, +who died in 1694. It may be noted in passing that this +Thomas Smith bore the title "Landgrave," the Lords +Proprietors, in their plan of government for the colony—which, +by the way, was drawn up by the philosopher +Locke—having provided for a colonial nobility with +titles. The titles "Baron" and "Landgrave" were hereditary +in several Charleston families, and constitute, +so far as I know, the only purely American titles of +nobility that ever existed. Descendants of the old +Landgraves still reside in Charleston, and in at least one +instance continue to use the word "Landgrave" in connection +with the family name.</p> + +<p>The prosperity of Charleston since the Civil War has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +depended more, perhaps, than on any other single product, +upon the trade in phosphate, large deposits of which +underlie this region.</p> + +<p>The real wonder of Charleston, the importance of the +place among American cities, cannot, however, be said +to have resulted primarily from commerce (though her +commerce is growing), or from greatness of population +(though Charleston is the metropolis of the Carolinas), +but is involved with matters of history, tradition and +beauty. The mantle of greatness was assumed by this +city in colonial times, and has never been laid aside. +Among the most distinguished early Americans were +many Charlestonians, and in not a few instances the old +blood still endures there, and even the old names: such +names as Washington, Pinckney, Bull, Pringle, Rutledge, +Middleton, Drayton, Alston, Huger, Agassiz, +Ravenel, Izard, Gadsden, Rhett, Calhoun, Read, De +Saussure, Lamar and Brawley, to mention but a few.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Charleston's early history is rich in pirate stories of +the most thrilling moving-picture variety. Blackbeard, +Stede Bonnet and other disciples of the Jolly Roger +preyed upon Charleston shipping. Bonnet once held a +Mr. Samuel Wragg of Charleston prisoner aboard his +ship threatening to send his head to the city unless the +unfortunate man should be ransomed—the demand being +for medicines of various kinds. Colonel Rhett, of +Charleston, captured Bonnet and his ship after a savage +fight, but Bonnet soon after escaped from the city in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +woman's clothing. Still later he was retaken, hanged, +as he deserved to be, and buried along with forty of his +band at a point now covered by the Battery Garden, that +exquisite little park at the tip of the city, which is the +favorite promenade of Charlestonians. In another +fight which occurred just off Charleston bar, a crew of +citizens under Governor Robert Johnson defeated the +pirate Richard Worley, who was killed in the action, and +captured his ship, which, when the hatches were opened +proved to be full of prisoners, thirty-six of them women. +Even as late as the period of the War of 1812—a war +which did not affect Charleston save in the way of destroying +her shipping and causing poverty and distress—a +case of brutal piracy is recorded. The daughter of +Aaron Burr, Theodosia by name, was married to Governor +Joseph Alston. After her father's trial for high +treason, when he was disgraced and broken, she tried to +comfort him, for the two were peculiarly devoted. Intending +to visit him she set sail from Charleston for +New York in a ship which was never heard from again. +Somewhere I have read a description of the distraught +father's long vigils at New York, where he would stand +gazing out to sea long after all hope had been abandoned +by others. Mrs. St. Julien Ravenel tells us in her charming +book, that thirty years later an old sailor, dying in a +village of the North Carolina coast, confessed that he +had been one of a pirate crew which had captured the +ship and compelled the passengers to walk the plank. +This story is also given by Charles Gayarré, who says<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +the pirate chief was none other than Dominick You, +who fought under Jackson at the Battle of New Orleans, +and is buried in that city. The husband and father +of Mrs. Alston were spared the ghastly tale, Mrs. Ravenel +says, since both were already in their graves +when the sailor's deathbed confession solved the mystery.</p> + +<p>In the Revolution, Charleston played an important +part. Men of Charleston were, of course, among the +signers of the Declaration of Independence. Charles +Cotesworth Pinckney, who gave us the immortal maxim: +"Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute!" +who was on Washington's staff, was later Ambassador +to France and president-general of the Sons of the Cincinnati, +was a Charlestonian of the Charlestonians, and +lies buried in St. Michael's. Such Revolutionary names +as Marion, Laurens, William Washington, Greene, +Hampton, Moultrie and Sumter are associated with the +place, and two of these are reëchoed in the names of +those famous forts in Charleston harbor on which attention +was fixed at the outbreak of the Civil War: +Moultrie and Sumter—the latter, target for the first +shot fired in the conflict.</p> + +<p>Nearly thirty years before the Civil War, Charleston +had distinguished herself in the arts of peace by producing +the first locomotive tried in the United States, and by +constructing the first consecutive hundred miles of railroad +ever built in the world, and now, with the War, +she distinguished herself by initiating other mechanical<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +devices of very different character—a semi-submersible +torpedo boat and the first submarine to torpedo a hostile +war vessel. True, David Bushnell of Connecticut +did construct a crude sort of submarine during the Revolutionary +War, and succeeded in getting under a British +ship with the machine, but he was unable to fasten +his charge of powder and his effort consequently failed. +Robert Fulton also experimented with submarines, or +"plunging boats" as he called them, and was encouraged +for a time by Napoleon I. The little <i>David</i> of the Confederate +navy is sometimes referred to as the first submarine +but the <i>David</i> was not actually an underwater +boat, but a torpedo boat which could run awash, with her +funnels and upper works slightly out of water. She +was a cigar-shaped vessel thirty-three feet long, built of +wood, propelled by steam, and carrying her torpedo on +a pole, forward. Dr. St. Julien Ravenel of Charleston +and Captain Theodore Stoney devised the craft, and she +was built by funds subscribed by Charleston merchants. +In command of Lieutenant W. T. Glassell, C. S. N., and +with three other men aboard, she torpedoed the United +States ship <i>New Ironsides</i>, flagship of the fleet blockading +Charleston. The <i>New Ironsides</i> was crippled, but +not lost. After this United States vessels blockading +Charleston protected themselves with booms. This resulted +in the construction of an actual undersea torpedo +boat, the <i>Hunley</i>. This extraordinary vessel has been +spoken of as having had the appearance of a huge iron +coffin, as well as the attributes of one, for she proved a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +death-trap for successive crews on three trial trips. As +there were no electric motors or gasoline engines in those +days, she was run by hand, eight men crowded together +turning a crank-shaft which operated her propeller. +After repeated sinkings, she was raised, manned by new +men, and sent forth again. Finally, in Charleston harbor +she succeeded in destroying the United States man-o'-war +<i>Housatonic</i>, but at the same time went down, herself, +drowning or suffocating all on board. A memorial +drinking fountain on the Battery, at the foot of Meeting +Street, commemorates "the men of the Confederate +Army and Navy, first in marine warfare to employ torpedo +boats—1863-1865." On this memorial are given +the names of sixteen men who perished in torpedo attacks +on the blockading fleet, among them Horace L. Hunley, +set down as inventor of the submarine boat. The +names of fourteen others who were lost are unknown.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Lord William Campbell, younger son of the Duke of +Argyll, was British governor at Charleston when the +Revolution broke out. He had married a Miss Izard, of +Charleston, who brought him a dowry of fifty thousand +pounds, a large sum in those times. Their home was in +a famous old house which stands on Meeting Street, and +it was from the back yard of this house that Lord William +fled in a rowboat to a British man-o'-war, when it +became evident that Charleston was no longer hospitable +to representatives of the Crown. Later his wife followed +him to Great Britain, where they remained.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Pringle House, as it is now called, formerly the +Brewton house, perhaps the most superb old residence in +the city, was the headquarters of General Sir Henry +Clinton, after he had captured Charleston, and was the +residence of Lord Rawdon, the unpleasant British commander +who succeeded Clinton. Cornwallis lived outside +the town at Drayton Hall, which still stands, on the +Ashley River. After his capture Cornwallis was exchanged +for Henry Laurens, a distinguished Charlestonian, +who, though he wept over the Declaration of Independence, +was before long president of the Continental +Congress, and later went to France, where he was +associated with Benjamin Franklin, John Jay and John +Adams in negotiating the treaty of peace and independence +for America.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ravenel says in her book that Sherman destroyed +all but one of the superb old houses on the +Ashley River, and when we consider that Sherman's +troops invested Charleston just before the end of the +War, and reflect upon the general's notorious "carelessness +with fire," we have cause for national rejoicing that +Charleston, with its unmatched buildings and their +splendid contents, was not laid in ashes, as were Atlanta +and Columbia. Had Sherman burned Charleston it +would be hard for even a Yankee to forgive him.</p> + +<p>Even without the aid of the Northern general, the +city has been able to furnish disastrous conflagrations +of her own, over a period of two centuries and more, +and I find in the quaint reminiscences of Charles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +Fraser, already alluded to, a lamentation that, because +of fires, many of the old landmarks have disappeared, +and the city is "losing its look of picturesque +antiquity." To make matters worse, there came, in +1886, an earthquake, rendering seven eighths of the +houses uninhabitable until repairs aggregating some millions +of dollars had been made. Up to the time of the +earthquake the old mansion from which Lord William +Campbell fled at the beginning of the Revolution, was +adorned by a battlemented roof. It is recorded that +when the shock came, an Englishman was in the house, +and that in his eagerness to get outdoors he pushed +others aside. As he reached the front steps, however, +the battlements came crashing down. He was the one +person from that house who perished, and his only monument +is the patch of comparatively new stone where the +broken steps have been repaired.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>My companion and I achieved entrance to one of the +famous old Charleston houses which we had been particularly +anxious to see, through the kindness of a lady +to whom we had a letter of introduction, who happened +to be a relative of the owner of the house.</p> + +<p>It seems necessary to explain, at this juncture, that in +Charleston, many proper names of foreign origin have +been corrupted in pronunciation. A few examples will +suffice: The Dutch name Vanderhorst, conspicuous in +the early annals of the city, has come to be pronounced +"Van-Dross"; Legaré, the name of another distin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span>guished +old family, commemorated in the name of Legaré +Street, is pronounced "Legree"; De Saussure has +become "Dess-a-sore," with the accent on the first syllable, +and Prioleau is called "Pray-low."</p> + +<p>I was unaware of these matters when my companion +and I visited the ancient house I speak of. Though I +had heard the name of the proprietor of the mansion +spoken many times, and recognized it as a distinguished +Charleston name, I had never seen it written; however, +without having given the matter much thought, I had, +unfortunately, reached my own conclusions as to how +it was spelled. Still more unfortunately, while I was +delighting in the drawing-room of that wonderful old +house, with the portraits of ladies in powdered hair and +men in cocked hats and periwigs looking down upon +me from the walls, I was impelled to reassure myself +as to the spelling of the name. Let us assume that the +name sounded like "Bowfee." That was not it but it +will suffice for illustration.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," I said to our charming cicerone, "that the +family name is spelled 'B-o-w-f-e-e'?"</p> + +<p>I had no sooner spoken than I realized, with a sudden +access of horror what I had done. In guessing I +had sinned, but in guessing wrong I had ruined myself. +All this came to me instantly and positively, as by a +psychic message of unparalleled definiteness from the +dead ancestors whose portraits hung upon the paneling. +It was as though they had joined in a great ghostly shout +of execration, which was the more awful because it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +a silent shout that jarred upon the senses rather than +the ear drums. Then, before the lady replied, while +the sound of my own voice saying "B-o-w-f-e-e" +seemed to reverberate through the apartment, I suddenly +comprehended the spirit of Charleston: understood +that, compared with Charleston, Boston is as a +rough mining camp, while New York hardly exists at +all, being a mere miasma of vulgarity.</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, in which the lady to whom +I had spoken gazed from the window at the rainy twilight. +Her silence, I am persuaded, was not intended to +rebuke me; she was not desirous of crushing me; she +was merely stunned. Indeed, when at last she spoke, +there was in her tone something of gentleness.</p> + +<p>"The name," she said, "is Beaufoy—B-e-a-u-f-o-y. +It is of Huguenot origin."</p> + +<p>Passionately I wished for an earthquake—one that +might cause the floor to open beneath me, or the roof to +fall through and blot me from her sight. How to get +away?—that was my one thought. To cover my embarrassment, +I tried to make small-talk about a medallion +of an Emperor of France, which hung upon the +paneling. The lady said it had been given to an ancestor +of the Beaufoys by the Emperor himself. That, +for some reason, seemed to make things rather worse. +I wished I had not dragged the Emperor into the conversation.</p> + +<p>"It is getting dark," I said. "It is time we were going."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<p>This the lady did not dispute.</p> + +<p>Of our actual farewells and exit from that house, I +remember not a detail, save that, as we departed, I knew +that we should never see this lady again; that for her +I no longer existed, and that in my downfall I had +dragged my companion with me. The next thing I +definitely recollect is walking swiftly up Meeting Street +beside him, in the rain and darkness of late afternoon. +All the way back to the hotel we strode side by side in +pregnant silence; neither did we speak as we ascended +to our rooms.</p> + +<p>Some time later, while I was dressing for dinner, he +entered my bedchamber. At the moment, as it happened, +I was putting cuff-links into a dress shirt. With +this task I busied myself, dreading to look up. In the +meantime I felt his eyes fixed upon me. When the +links were in, I delayed meeting his gaze by buttoning +the little button in one sleeve-vent, above the cuff.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you button those idiotic little +buttons?" he demanded. "I didn't know that anybody +ever did that!"</p> + +<p>"I don't always," I answered apologetically.</p> + +<p>"I should hope not!" he returned. Then he continued: +"Do you remember where we are to be taken +to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "To the Pringle house."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "I just came in to ask you, as a +favor, not to get off any fanciful ideas that you may +have thought up, about the way to spell Pringle."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br /> +<br /> +POLITICS, A NEWSPAPER AND ST. CECILIA</h2> + + +<p>Charleston is very definitely a part of South +Carolina. That is not always the case with a +State and its chief city. It is not the case with +the State and the City of New York. New York City +has about the same relation to New York State as a +goldpiece has to a large table-top on one corner of which +it lies. Charleston, on the other hand, harmonizes into +its state setting, as a beautiful ancient vase harmonizes +into the setting afforded by some rare old cabinet. +Moreover, Charleston's individuality amongst cities is +more or less duplicated in South Carolina's individuality +amongst States. South Carolina is a State as definitely +marked—though in altogether different ways—as Kansas +or California. It is a State that does nothing by +halves. It has rattlesnakes larger and more venomous +than other rattlesnakes, and it has twice had the disgraceful +Cole Blease, otherwise "To-hell-with-the-Constitution" +Blease, as governor. For senator it has the +old war-horse Tillman, a man so admired for his power +that, in our easy-going way, we almost forgive his +dives into the pork-barrel. Tillman has been to South +Carolina more or less what the late Senator Hale +was to his section of New England. Hale grabbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +a navy yard for Kittery, Maine (the Portsmouth +yard), where there never should have been a navy yard; +Tillman performed a like service, under like circumstances, +for Charleston. Both are purely political yards. +Naval officers opposed them, but were overridden by politicians, +as so often happens. For in time of peace the +army and the navy are political footballs, and it is only +when war comes that the politicians cease kicking them +about and cry: "Now, football, turn into a cannon-ball, +and save your country and your country's flag!" For +obviously, if the flag cannot be saved, the politicians will +be without a "starry banner" to gesture at and roar +about.</p> + +<p>Now, of course, with war upon us, any navy yard is a +blessing, and the Charleston yard is being used, as it +should be, to the utmost. But in time of peace the yard +comes in for much criticism from the navy, the contention +being that it is not favorably located from a strategic +point of view, and that, owing to bars in the Cooper +River, up which it is situated, it cannot be entered by +large ships. The point is also made that while labor is +cheaper at this yard than at any other, skilled metal-workers +are hard to get. Friends of the yard contend, +upon the other hand, that it is desirable because of its +convenience to the Caribbean Sea, where, according to +naval theory, this country will some day have to fight a +battle in defense of the Panama Canal. The Pensacola +yard, it is pointed out, is exposed and can be bombarded, +whereas the Charleston yard is far enough inland to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +safe from sea attack. As to the channel, it is navigable +for destroyers and other small craft—though whether it +would be so to a large destroyer which had been injured +and was drawing more water than usual, I do not know. +The practical situation of the navy, with regard to this +and some of the other political yards, is like that of some +man who has been left a lot of heterogeneous houses, +scattered about town, none of them suited to his purposes, +and who is obliged to scatter his family amongst +them as best he can, or else abandon them and build a +new house. We have been following the former course, +and are only now preparing to adopt the latter, by establishing +a naval base at Norfolk, as mentioned in an +earlier chapter.</p> + +<p>Charleston politics have been peculiar. Until a few +years ago the government of the city had long rested in +the hands of a few old families, among them the Gadsdens +and the Rhetts. The overthrow of this ancient and +aristocratic rule by the election to the mayoralty of John +P. Grace, an alleged "friend of the people," was +spoken of by the New York "Sun," as being not a mere +change in municipal government, but the fall of a +dynasty which had controlled the city politically, financially +and socially for a century and a half. Mr. Grace +may be dismissed with the remark that he supported +Blease and that he is editor of the recently founded +Charleston "American," which I have heard called a +Hearst newspaper, and which certainly wears the Hearst +look about it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> + +<p>On January 19, 1917, this newspaper printed a full +account of the ball of the St. Cecilia Society, Charleston's +most sacred social organization. Never before in +the history of the St. Cecilia Society, covering a period +of a century and a half, had an account of one of its +balls, and the names of those attending, been printed. +The publication caused a great stir in the city and resulted +in an editorial, said to have been written by Grace, +which appeared next day, and which reveals something +of Charleston tradition and something of Grace, as well. +It was headed "The Saint Cecilia Ball," and ran as +follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We carried on yesterday a full account of the famous Saint +Cecilia Ball. From the foundation of Charleston until the present +moment it has been regarded as an unwritten law that the +annual events of this ancient society shall not be touched upon.</p> + +<p>Of course it was permissible for the thirty-five thousand poor +white people of Charleston to talk about the Saint Cecilia, and +to indulge in the thrilling sensation that comes to the proverbial +cat when she looks at a queen. Some of them, moved by curiosity, +even ventured within half a block of the Hibernian Hall +to observe from afar the gay festivities.</p> + +<p>The press being forbidden to cover Saint Cecilia events, there +grew up in the vulgar mind weird stories of what went on behind +the scenes. While the Saint Cecilia has enjoyed the happy +privilege of journalistic silence, it has, therefore, correspondingly +suffered on the tongue of gossip. The truth is that we always +knew that the Saint Cecilia was just about the same as +every other social collection of human beings—a little gaiety flavored +with a little frivolity; nothing more, nothing less.</p> + +<p>There was a time when this society was the extreme limit of +social exclusiveness. It was an anachronism on American soil,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +a matter of pure heredity, the right to membership in which was as +fixed as Median law, but transcendently above the median line. +Now, however, since the society, in keeping with the spirit of +the age, has relaxed its rules to admit from year to year (if, indeed, +only a few now and then) members whose blood is far +from indigo, we think it perfectly legitimate for the newspaper, +which represents <span class="smcap">all</span> classes of people, to invade the quondam +sanctity of its functions which are now being <span class="smcap">opened</span> to all +classes.</p></div> + +<p>Following this, the editorial quoted from Don Seitz's +book, telling how the elder James Gordon Bennett was +in the habit of mocking "events to which he was not invited," +and how, in 1840, he managed to get one of his +reporters into "Henry I Brevoort's fancy dress ball, the +social event of the period." The quotation from Mr. +Seitz's book ends with the following: "A far cry from +this to 1894, when Ward McAlister, arbiter of the '400' +at Mrs. Astor's famous ball, became a leader on social +topics for the New York 'World.' It took many years +for this umbrage at the reporting of social events to wear +off and make the reporter welcome. Indeed, there is one +place yet on the map where it is not even now permitted +to record a social event, though the editors and owners +of papers may be among those present. That is Charleston, +South Carolina...."</p> + +<p>The Charleston editor then resumes his own reflections +in this wise:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We regret to say, and it is the regret of our life, that we were +not one of the editors present at the Saint Cecilia. This, therefore, +relieves us of the implied condition to adhere any longer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +to this silly and absurd custom which, in the language of this +great newspaper man, has made its last stand "on the map" at +Charleston. We are glad that we have forever nailed, in the +opinion of one hundred million ordinary people who make the +American nation, the absurdity that there is any social event so +sacred, any people so DIFFERENT from the rest of us poor human +beings, that we dare not speak of them.</p></div> + +<p>Just why private social events should be, as Mr. Grace +seems to assume, particularly the property of the press, +it is somewhat difficult to explain, unless we do so by +accepting as fundamental the theory that the press is +justified in invading personal privacy purely in order to +pander, on the one hand to the new breed of vulgar rich +which thrives on "publicity," and on the other, to the +breed of vulgar poor which enjoys reading that supremest +of American inanities, the "society page."</p> + +<p>What Mr. Seitz said in his book as to the reticence of +Charleston newspapers, where society is concerned, is, +however, generally true—amazingly so to one who has +become hardened to the attitude of the metropolitan press +elsewhere. The society columns of Charleston papers +hardly ever print the names of the city's real aristocrats, +and in the past they have gone much farther than this, +for they have been known to suppress important news +stories in which prominent citizens were unpleasantly +involved. It may be added that earthquakes are evidently +classed as members of the aristocracy, since occasional +tremors felt in the city are pointedly ignored by +the press. Whether or not the paper edited by the fear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>less +Mr. Grace ignores these manifestations I am unable +to say. One can easily fancy his taking a courageous +stand on such a subject as well as upon social matters. +Indeed, with a few slight changes, his editorial upon +the St. Cecilia ball, might be made to serve equally well +after an earthquake shock. He might say:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The press being forbidden to cover earthquakes, there grew +up in the vulgar mind weird stories of what went on behind the +scenes. While the earthquakes have enjoyed the happy privilege +of journalistic silence, they have, therefore, correspondingly +suffered on the tongue of gossip.</p></div> + +<p>He could also make the point that since, "in keeping +with the spirit of the age," the earthquake shakes people +"(if indeed only a few of them now and then), whose +blood is far from indigo, we think it perfectly legitimate +for the newspaper, which represents ALL classes of people, +to invade the quondam sanctity of its functions +which are now being OPENED to all classes."</p> + +<p>But of course, where the editor of such a paper is +concerned, there is always the element of natural delicacy +and nicety of feeling to be considered. Mr. Grace +felt that because he was not present at the St. Cecilia +ball, he was free to print things about it. An earthquake +would not be like the St. Cecilia Society—it would +not draw the line at Mr. Grace. At a Charleston earthquake +he would undoubtedly be present. The question +therefore arises: Having been PRESENT, might his +AMOUR PROPRE make him feel that to REPORT +the event would not be altogether in GOOD TASTE?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<p>The St. Cecilia Society began in 1737 with a concert +given on St. Cecilia's day, and continued for many years +to give concerts at which the musicians were both amateurs +and professionals. Josiah Quincy, in his "Journal," +tells of having attended one of these concerts in +1773, and speaks of the richness of the men's apparel, +noting that there were "many with swords on."</p> + +<p>When, in 1819, difficulty was experienced in obtaining +performers, it was proposed that a ball be held in place +of a concert, and by 1822 the society was definitely transformed +from a musical to a dancing organization, which +it has remained ever since.</p> + +<p>The statement in the "American" editorial that St. +Cecilia balls have been the subject of scandalous gossip +is, I believe, quite false, as is also the statement that the +balls are now "being opened to all classes."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ravenel in her book tells how the organization +is run. Members are elected, and all are men, though +the names of the ladies of a member's household are +placed on the club list. "Only death or removal from +the city erases them—change of fortune affects them not +at all." A man whose progenitors have belonged to the +society is almost certain of election, though there have +been cases in which undesirables of good family have +been blackballed. Two blackballs are sufficient to cause +the rejection of a candidate. Men who are not of old +Charleston stock are carefully investigated before they +can be elected, but of late years not a few such, having +been considered desirable, have become members. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +members elect officers and a board of managers, and +these have entire control of the society. Three balls are +given each year, one in January and two in February. +Until a few years ago the hall in which the balls are given +was lighted by innumerable candelabra; only lately has +electricity been used. The society owns its own plate, +damask, china and glassware, and used to own a good +stock of wines. Of late years, I believe, wines have not +been served, the beverage of the evening consisting of +coffee, hot and iced. The greatest decorum is observed +at the balls. Young ladies go invariably with chaperones; +following each dance there is a brief promenade, +whereafter the young ladies are returned to their duennas—who, +if they be Charleston dowagers in perfection, +usually carry turkey-feather fans. Cards are filled +months in advance. As lately as the year 1912 every +other dance was a square dance; since then, however, I +believe that square dances have gone the way of candle-light. +The society has an endowment and membership +is inexpensive, costing but fifteen dollars a year, including +the three balls. This enables young men starting +in life to be members without going into extravagance, +and is in accord with the best social tradition of Charleston, +where the difference between an aristocracy and a +plutocracy is well understood. Most of the rules of the +organization are unwritten. One is that men shall not +smoke on the premises during a ball; another is that divorced +persons shall not be members or guests of the +society. In this respect the St. Cecilia Society may be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +said, in effect, to be applying, socially, the South Carolina +law; for South Carolina is the only State in the Union +in which divorces are not granted for any cause whatsoever.</p> + +<p>This reminds me that the State has an anti-tipping +law. The Pullman porter is required to hang up copies +of the law in his car when it enters South Carolina, and +copies of it are displayed on the doors of hotel bedrooms. +The penalty for giving or receiving a tip is a fine of from +ten to one hundred dollars, or thirty days in jail. Perhaps +the law is observed. I know, at least, that no one +offered me a tip while I was in that State.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The old grandees of Charleston were usually sent to +Oxford or Cambridge for an education and English tradition +still remains, I fancy, the foundation for what +Charleston social life is to-day. I thought at first that +Charlestonians spoke like the English, but later came to +the conclusion that there is in the pronunciation of some +of them a quality resembling a very faint brogue—a +brogue such as might be possessed by a cultivated Irishman +who had moved to England in his boyhood, and had +been educated there. The "vanishing <i>y</i>" of tidewater +Virginia is also used by some Charlestonians, I am told, +though I do not remember hearing it.</p> + +<p>Generalizations on the subject of dialectic peculiarities +are dangerous, as I have good reason to know. Naturally, +not all Charlestonians speak alike. I should say, +however, that the first <i>a</i> in the words "Papa" and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> +"Mama" is frequently given a short sound, as <i>a</i> in +"hat"; also that many one-syllable words are strung out +into two. For instance, "eight" is heard as "ay-et" +("ay" as in "gray"); "where" as "whey-uh," or +"way-uh," and "hair" as "hay-uh." "Why?" sometimes +sounds like "Woi?" Such words as "calm" and "palm" +are sometimes given the short <i>a</i>: "cam" and "pam"—which, +of course, occurs elsewhere, too. The name +"Ralph" is pronounced as "Rafe" (<i>a</i> as in "rate")—which +I believe is Old English; and the names "Saunders" +and "Sanders" are pronounced exactly alike, both +being called "Sanders." Tomatoes are sometimes called +"tomatters." Two dishes I never heard of before are +"Hopping John," which is rice cooked with peas, and +"Limping Kate," which is some other rice combination. +What we, in the North, call an "ice-cream freezer" becomes +in Charleston an "ice-cream <i>churn</i>." "Good +morning" is the salutation up to three <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, whereas in +other parts of the South "Good evening" is said for the +Northern "Good afternoon." Charlestonians speak of +being "parrot-toed"—not "pigeon-toed." Where, in the +North, we would ask a friend, "How are things out your +way?" a Charlestonian may inquire, "How are things +out your <i>side</i>?" The expression "going out" means to +go to St. Cecilia Balls, and I have been told that it is +never used in any other way. That is, if a lady is asked: +"Are you going out this winter?" it means definitely, +"Are you going to the St. Cecilia balls?" If you heard +it said that some one was "<i>on</i> Mount Pleasant," you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +might suppose that Mount Pleasant was an island; but +it is not; it is a village on the mainland across the Cooper +River. And what is to me one of the most curious expressions +I ever heard is "do don't," as when a lady +called to her daughter, "Martha, <i>do</i> don't slam that door +again!"</p> + +<p>How generally these peculiarities crop out in the +speech of Charleston I cannot say. It occurs to me, +however, that, assembled and catalogued in this way, +they may create the idea that slovenly English is generally +spoken in the city. If so they give an impression +which I should not wish to convey, since Charleston has +no more peculiarities of language than New York or +Boston, and not nearly so many as a number of other +cities. Cultivated Charlestonians have, moreover, the +finest voices I have heard in any American city.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI<br /> +<br /> +"GULLA" AND THE BACK COUNTRY</h2> + + +<p>The most extraordinary negro dialect I know of +is the "gulla" (sometimes spelled "gullah") of +the rice plantation negroes of South Carolina +and of the islands off the South Carolina and Georgia +coast. I believe that the region of Charleston is headquarters +for "gulla niggers," though I have heard the +argot spoken as far south as Sepeloe Island, off the town +of Darien, Georgia, near the Florida line. Gulla is such +an extreme dialect as to be almost a language by itself. +Whence it came I do not know, but I judge that it is a +combination of English with the primitive tongues of +African tribes, just as the dialect of old Creole negroes, +in Louisiana, is a combination of African tribal tongues +with French.</p> + +<p>A Charleston lady tells me that negroes on different +rice plantations—even on adjoining plantations—speak +dialects which differ somewhat, and I know of my own +knowledge that thick gulla is almost incomprehensible +to white persons who have not learned, by long practice, +to understand it.</p> + +<p>A lady sent a gulla negro with a message to a friend. +This is the message as it was delivered:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Missis seh all dem turrah folk done come shum. +Enty you duh gwine come shum?" (To get the gulla +effect the sounds should be uttered very rapidly.)</p> + +<p>Translated, this means: "Mistress says all them other +folks have come to see her. Aren't you coming to see +her?"</p> + +<p>"Shum" is a good gulla word. It means all kinds of +things having to do with seeing—<i>to see her</i>, <i>to see him</i>, +<i>to see it</i>. Thus, "You shum, enty?" may mean, <i>You +see him</i>—<i>her</i>—or <i>it</i>? or <i>You see what he</i>—<i>she</i>—or <i>it</i>—<i>is +doing</i>, or <i>has done</i>? For gulla has no genders and +no tenses. "Enty" is a general question: <i>Aren't you? +Didn't you? Isn't it?</i> etc. Another common gulla +word is "Buckra" which means <i>a white man of the +upper class</i>, in contradistinction to a poor white. I have +known a negro to refer to "de frame o' de bud," meaning +the carcass, or frame, of a fowl. "Ay ain' day" +means "They aren't (ain't) there."</p> + +<p>A friend of mine who resided at Bluffton, South +Carolina, has told me of an old gulla fisherman who +spoke in parables.</p> + +<p>A lady would ask him: "Have you any fish to-day?" +To which, if replying affirmatively, he would answer: +"Missis, de gate open"; meaning, "The door (of the +'car,' or fish-box) is open to you." If he had no fish he +would reply: "Missis, ebb-tide done tack (take) crick"; +signifying: "The tide has turned and it is too late to go +to catch fish." This old man called whisky "muhgundy +smash," the term evidently derived from some idea of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> +the word "burgundy" combined with the word "mash."</p> + +<p>Here is a gulla dialect story, with a line-for-line translation. +A train has killed a cow, and a negro witness +is being examined by a justice of the peace:</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Justice</span>--Uncle John, did you see what killed Sam's cow?</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Negro</span>--Co'ose Uh shum.</td><td align='left'>(Of) course I saw him.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Justice</span>--What was it, Uncle John?</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Negro</span>--Dat black debble you-all</td><td align='left'>(It was) that black devil you-all</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>runnin' tru we lan'. Nigga duh</td><td align='left'>(are) running through our land. +(A) nigger (fireman) he</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>stan' deh, duh po' coal in eh stomach.</td><td align='left'>stands there (and) he pours coal +into its stomach.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Buckra duh sit up on eh seat,</td><td align='left'>(A) white man (engineer) +he sits up on his seat.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>duh smoke eh cigah, an' ebry tahme</td><td align='left'>(and) he smokes his cigar, and every time</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>eh twis' eh tail eh run fasteh. An'</td><td align='left'>he twists its (engine's) tail it runs +faster. And</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>eh screams dis lak uh pantuh. Eben</td><td align='left'>it screams just like a panther. Even</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>w'en eh git tuh de station, eh stan'</td><td align='left'>when it gets to the station, it stands</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>tuh de station an' seh: "<i>Kyan</i>-stop!</td><td align='left'>at the station and says: "<i>Can't</i>-stop!</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Kyan</i>-stop! <i>Kyan</i>-stop!"</td><td align='left'><i>Can't</i>-stop! <i>Can't</i>-stop!"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sam cow binna browse down deh</td><td align='left'>Sam's cow was browsing down there</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>tuh Bull Head Crick. Eh ram eh</td><td align='left'>to (at) Bull Head Creek. It (engine) rammed its</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>nose innum, an' eh bussum wahde</td><td align='left'>nose into it (the cow), and it +busted him wide</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>loose. Eh t'row eh intrus on de</td><td align='left'>loose (open). It threw its entrails on the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>reyel on de cross-tie, an' clean-up</td><td align='left'>rails, on the cross-ties, and clean up</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>on de tele<i>gram</i> pole.</td><td align='left'>on the telegraph pole.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Mrs. Leiding (Harriette Kershaw Leiding), of +Charleston, has done a fine service to lovers of Old +Charleston, and its ways, in collecting and publishing in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +pamphlet form a number of the cries of the negro street +vendors. Of these I shall rob Mrs. Leiding's booklet +of but one example—the cry of a little negro boy, a peddler +of shrimp ("swimp"), who stood under a window +in the early morning and sang:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="music/dawtry.midi">Listen</a> | <a href="music/dawtry.ly">View/Download Lilypond</a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 676px;"> +<img src="images/dawtry.png" width="676" height="98" alt="An' a Daw-try Daw! an' a swimp-y raw! an' a Daw-try Daw-try Daw-try Raw Swimp." title="" /> +</div> + +<p>While on the subject of the Charleston negro I must +not neglect two of his superstitions. One is his belief +that a two-dollar bill is unlucky. The curse may be removed +only by tearing off a corner of the bill. The +other is that it is unlucky to hand any one a pin. A +Charleston lady told me that when she was motoring +and wished to pin her hat or her veil, she could never +get her negro chauffeur to hand her pins. Instead he +would stick them in the laprobe, or in the sleeve of his +coat, whence she could pick them out herself. Another +lady told me of the case of an old black slave who lived +years ago on a plantation on the Santee River, owned +by her family. This slave, who was a very powerful, +taciturn and high-tempered man, had a curious habit of +disappearing for about half an hour each day. He +would go into the swamp, and for many years no one +ever followed him, the other negroes being afraid to do +so because of his temper and his strength. At last, +however, they did spy upon him and discovered that in +the swamp there stood a cypress tree on which were +strange rude carvings, before which he prostrated him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>self. +No one ever learned the exact significance of +this, but it was assumed that the man practised some +barbaric form of worship, brought from Africa.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The country back of Charleston is very lovely and is +rich in interest, even though most of the houses on the +old estates have been destroyed. Drayton Hall, however, +stands, and the old Drayton estate, Magnolia, not +far distant from the Hall (which was on another estate), +has one of the most famous gardens in the world. +Seven persons touching fingertips can barely encircle the +trunks of some of the live-oaks at Magnolia; there are +camellias more than twenty feet high, and a rose tree +nearly as large, but the great glory of the garden is +its huge azaleas—ninety-two varieties, it is said—which, +when they blossom in the spring, are so wonderful that +people make long journeys for no other purpose than to +see them.</p> + +<p>In "Harper's Magazine" for December, 1875, I find +an account of the gardens which were, at that time, far +from new. The azaleas were then twelve and thirteen +feet tall; now, I am told, they reach to a height of more +than twenty feet, with a corresponding spread.</p> + +<p>"It is almost impossible," says the anonymous writer +of the article, "to give a Northerner any idea of the +affluence of color in this garden when its flowers are in +bloom. Imagine a long walk with the moss-draped live-oaks +overhead, a fairy lake and a bridge in the distance, +and on each side the great fluffy masses of rose and pink<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +and crimson, reaching far above your head, thousands +upon tens of thousands of blossoms packed close together, +with no green to mar the intensity of their color, +rounding out in swelling curves of bloom down to the +turf below, not pausing a few inches above it and showing +bare stems or trunk, but spreading over the velvet, +and trailing out like the rich robes of an empress. +Stand on one side and look across the lawn; it is like a +mad artist's dream of hues; it is like the Arabian nights; +eyes that have never had color enough find here a full +feast, and go away satisfied at last. And with all their +gorgeousness, the hues are delicately mingled; the magic +effect is produced not by unbroken banks of crude reds, +but by blended shades, like the rich Oriental patterns of +India shawls, which the European designers, with all +their efforts, can never imitate."</p> + +<p>Another remarkable garden, though not the equal of +Magnolia, is at Middleton Place, not many miles away, +and still another is at the pleasant winter resort town of +Summerville, something more than twenty miles above +Charleston. The latter, called the Pinehurst Tea Garden, +is said to be the only tea garden in the United +States. It is asserted that the teas produced here are +better than those of China and Japan, and are equal to +those of India. The Government is coöperating with +the owners of this garden with a view to introducing tea +planting in the country in a large way.</p> + +<p>The finest grade of tea raised here is known as "Shelter +Tea," and is sold only at the gardens, the price being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +five dollars per pound. It is a tea of the Assam species +grown under shelters of wire mesh and pine straw. +This type of tea is known in Japan, where it originated, +as "sugar tea," because, owing to the fact that it is grown +in the shade, the sap of the bush, which is of starchy +quality, is turned chemically into sugar, giving the leaf +an exceedingly delicate flavor.</p> + +<p>From the superintendent in charge of the gardens I +learned something of the bare facts of the tea growing +industry. I had always been under the impression that +the name "pekoe" referred to a certain type of tea, but +he told me that the word is Chinese for "eyelash," and +came to be used because the tip leaves of tea bushes, +when rolled and dried, resemble eyelashes. These +leaves—"pekoe tips"—make the most choice tea. The +second leaves make the tea called "orange pekoe," while +the third leaves produce a grade of tea called simply +"pekoe." In China it is customary to send three groups +of children, successively, to pick the leaves, the first +group picking only the tips, the second group the second +leaves, and the third group the plain pekoe leaves. At +the Pinehurst Tea Gardens the picking is done by colored +children, ranging from eight to fifteen years of age. +All the leaves are picked together and are later separated +by machinery.</p> + +<p>Summerville itself seems a lovely lazy town. It is +the kind of place to which I should like to retire in the +winter if I had a book to write. One could be very comfortable, +and there would be no radical distractions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>—unless +one chanced to see the Most Beautiful Girl in the +World, who has been known to spend winters at that +place.</p> + +<p>On the way from Charleston to Summerville, if you +go by motor, you pass The Oaks, an estate with a new +colonial house standing where an ancient mansion used +to stand. A long avenue bordered by enormous live-oaks, +leading to this house, gives the place its name, and +affords a truly noble approach. Here, in Revolutionary +times, Marion, "the Swamp Fox," used to camp.</p> + +<p>Not far distant from the old gate at The Oaks is Goose +Creek Church—the most interesting church I have ever +seen. The Parish of St. James, Goose Creek, was established +by act of the Assembly, November 30, 1706, +and the present church, a brick building of crudely simple +architecture, was built about 1713. The interior of +the church, though in good condition, is the oldest looking +thing, I think, in the United States. The memorial +tablets in the walls, with their foreign names and antique +lettering, the curious old box pews, the odd little gallery +at the back, the tall pulpit, with its winding stair, above +all the Royal Arms of Great Britain done in relief on +the chancel wall and brilliantly colored—all these make +Goose Creek Church more like some little Norman +church in England, than like anything one might reasonably +expect to find on this side of the world.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<a name="p344jpg" id="p344jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p344.jpg" width="413" height="500" alt="The interior is the oldest looking thing in the United States—Goose Creek Church" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The interior is the oldest looking thing in the United States—Goose Creek Church</span> +</div> + +<p>Countless items of curious interest hang about the +church and parish. Michaux, the French botanist who +came to this country in 1786, lived for a time at Goose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> +Creek. He brought with him the first four camellias +seen in the United States, planting them at Middleton +Place above Drayton Hall, where, I believe, they still +stand, having reached a great height. A British officer +known as Mad Archy Campbell was married at Goose +Creek Church during the Revolution, under romantic +circumstances. Miss Paulina Phelps, a young lady of +the parish, was a great beauty and a great coquette, +who amused herself alike with American and British +officers. Campbell met and fell desperately in love with +her, and it is said that she encouraged him, though without +serious intent. One day he induced her to go horseback-riding +with him and on the ride made love to her +so vehemently that she was "intimidated into accepting +him." They rode to the rectory, and Campbell, meeting +the rector, demanded that he should marry them at once. +The dominie replied that he would do so "with the consent +of the young lady and her mother," but Campbell +proposed to await no such formalities. Drawing his +pistol he gave the minister the choice of performing the +ceremony then and there, or perishing. This argument +proved conclusive and the two were promptly wed.</p> + +<p>When Goose Creek was within the British lines it is +said that the minister proceeded, upon one occasion, to +utter the prayer for the King of England, in the Litany. +At the end of the prayer there were no "Amens," the +congregation having been composed almost entirely, as +the story goes, of believers in American independence. +Into the awkward pause after the prayer one voice from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> +the congregation was at last injected. It was the voice +of old Ralph Izard, saying heartily, not "Amen," but +"Good Lord, deliver us!" There is a tablet in the +church to the memory of this worthy.</p> + +<p>The story is told, also, of an old gentleman, a member +of the congregation in Revolutionary times, who informed +the minister that if he again read the prayer for +the King he would throw his prayer-book at his head. +The minister took this for a jest, but when he began to +read the prayer on the following Sunday, he found that +it was not, for sure enough the prayer-book came +hurtling through the air. Prayer-books were heavier +then than they are now, and it is said that as a result of +this episode, the minister refused to hold service thereafter.</p> + +<p>The church is not now used regularly, an occasional +memorial service only being held there.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Charleston is a hard place to leave. Wherever one +may be going from there, the change is likely to be +for the worse. Nevertheless, it is impossible to stay +forever; so at last you muster up your resignation and +your resources, buy tickets, and reluctantly prepare to +leave. If you depart as we did, you go by rail, driving +to the station in the venerable bus of the Charleston +Transfer Company—a conveyance which, one judges, +may be coeval with the city's oldest mansions. Little as +we wished to leave Charleston we did not wish to defer +our departure through any such banality as the unneces<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>sary +missing of a train. Therefore as we waited for +the bus, on the night of leaving, and as train time drew +nearer and nearer, with no sign of the lumbering old +vehicle, we became somewhat concerned.</p> + +<p>When the bus did come at last there was little time +to spare; nevertheless the conductor, an easygoing man +of great volubility, consumed some precious minutes in +gossiping with the hotel porter, and then with arranging +and rearranging the baggage on the roof of the bus. +His manner was that of an amateur bus conductor, trying +a new experiment. After watching his performances +for a time, looking occasionally at my watch, by +way of giving him a hint, I broke out into expostulation +at the unnecessary delay.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked the man in a gentle, almost +grieved tone.</p> + +<p>"There's very little time!" I returned. "We don't +wish to miss the train."</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right," said the bus conductor, making more +haste, as though the information I had given him put a +different face on matters generally.</p> + +<p>Presently we started. After a time he collected our +fares. I have forgotten whether the amount was twenty-five +or fifty cents. At all events, as he took the money +from my hand he said to me reassuringly:</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry, sir! If I don't get you to the train +I'll give you this money back. That's fair, ain't it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII<br /> +<br /> +OUT OF THE PAST</h2> + + +<p>By no means all the leading citizens of Atlanta +were in a frame of mind to welcome General +Sherman when, ten or a dozen years after the +Civil War, he revisited the city. Captain Evan P. +Howell, a former Confederate officer, then publisher of +the Atlanta "Constitution," was, however, not one of +the Atlantans who ignored the general's visit. Taking +his young son, Clark, he called upon the general at the +old Kimball House (later destroyed by fire), and had +an interesting talk with him. Clark Howell, who has +since succeeded his father as publisher of the "Constitution," +was born while the latter was fighting at Chickamauga, +and was consequently old enough, at the time +of the call on Sherman, to remember much of what was +said. He heard the general tell Captain Howell why +he had made such a point of taking Atlanta, and as Sherman's +military reasons for desiring possession of the +Georgia city explain, to a large extent, Atlanta's subsequent +development, I shall quote them as Clark Howell +gave them to me.</p> + +<p>First however, it is perhaps worth while to remind +the reader of the bare circumstances preceding the fall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +of Atlanta. After the defeat of the Confederate forces +at Chattanooga, General Joseph E. Johnston's army fell +back slowly on Atlanta, much as the French fell back on +Paris at the beginning of the European War, shortening +their own lines of communication while those of the advancing +Germans were being continually attenuated. +As the Germans kept after the French, Sherman kept +after Johnston; and as Joffre was beginning to be criticized +for failing to make a stand against the enemy, so +was Johnston criticized as he continued to retire without +giving battle. One of the chief differences between +Joffre's retirement and Johnston's lies, however, in the +length of time consumed; for whereas the French retreat +on Paris covered a few days only, the Confederate retreat +on Atlanta covered weeks and months, giving the +Confederate Government time to become impatient with +Johnston and finally to remove him from command before +the time arrived when, in his judgment, the stand +against Sherman should be made. Nor is it inconceivable +that, had the French retreat lasted as long as Johnston's, +Joffre would have been removed and would have +lost the opportunity to justify his Fabian policy, as he +did so gloriously at the Battle of the Marne.</p> + +<p>Though Atlanta was, at the time of the war, a city +of less than 10,000 inhabitants, it was the chief base of +supply for men and munitions in the Far South.</p> + +<p>"When my father asked him why all his effort and +power had been centered, after Chickamauga, on the +capture of Atlanta," said Clark Howell, "I remember<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> +that General Sherman extended one hand with the fingers +spread apart, explaining the strategic situation by +imagining Atlanta as occupying a position where the +wrist joins the hand, while the thumb and fingers represented, +successively, New Orleans, Mobile, Savannah, +Charleston, and Norfolk. 'If I held Atlanta,' he said, +'I was only one day's journey from these chief cities of +the South.'"</p> + +<p>In spite, therefore, of the assertion, which I have +heard made, that the prosperity of Atlanta is "founded +on insurance premiums, coca-cola, and hot air," it seems +to me that it is founded on something very much more +solid. Nor do I refer to the layer of granite which underlies +the city. The prosperity of Atlanta is based +upon the very feature which made its capture seem to +Sherman so desirable: its strategic position as a central +point in the Far South.</p> + +<p>Neither in Atlanta nor in any other part of Georgia +is General Sherman remembered with a feeling that +can properly be described as affectionate, though it +may be added that Atlanta has good reason for remembering +him warmly. The burning of Atlanta by Sherman +did not, however, prove an unalloyed disaster, for +the war came to an end soon after, and the rebuilding +of the city supplied work for thousands of former Confederate +soldiers, and also drew to Atlanta many of the +strong men who played leading parts in the subsequent +commercial upbuilding of the place: such men as the late +General Alfred Austell, Captain James W. English, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +the three Inman brothers, Samuel, John, and Hugh—to +mention but a few names. The First National Bank, +established by General Austell, is, I believe, Atlanta's +largest bank to-day, and was literally the first national +bank established in Georgia, if not in the whole South, +after the war.</p> + +<p>Woodrow Wilson was admitted to the bar in Atlanta, +and, if I mistake not, practised law in an office not far +from that meeting place of highways called Five Points. +Here, at Five Points, two important trails crossed, long +before there was any Atlanta: the north-and-south trail +between Savannah and Ross's Landing, and the east-and-west +trail, which followed the old Indian trails between +Charleston and New Orleans. When people from +this part of the country wished to go to Ohio, Indiana, +or the Mississippi Valley, they would take the old north-and-south +trail to Ross's Landing, follow the Tennessee +River to where it empties into the Ohio, near Paducah, +Kentucky, and proceed thence to Mississippi.</p> + +<p>In the thirties, Atlanta—or rather the site of Atlanta, +for the city was not founded until 1840—was on the border +of white civilization in northern Georgia, all the +country to the north of the Chattahoochee River, which +flows a few miles distant from the city, having belonged +to the Cherokee Indians, who had been moved there +from Florida. Even in those times the Cherokees were +civilized, as Indians go, for they lived in huts and practised +agriculture. Of course, however, their civilization +was not comparable with that of the white man. If<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> +they had been as civilized as he, they might have driven +him out of Florida, instead of having been themselves +driven out, and they might have driven him out of +Georgia, too, instead of having been pushed on, as they +were, to the Indian Territory—eighteen thousand of +them, under military supervision, on boats from Ross's +Landing—leaving the beautiful white Cherokee rose, +which grows wild and in great profusion, in the spring, +as almost their sole memorial on Georgia soil.</p> + +<p>As Georgia became settled the trails developed into +wagon and stage routes, and later they were followed, +approximately, by the railroads. After three railroads +had reached Atlanta, the State of Georgia engaged in +what may have been the first adventure, in this country, +along the lines of government-owned railroads: namely, +the building of the Western & Atlantic, from Atlanta to +Chattanooga, to form a link between the lower South +and the rapidly developing West. This road was built +in the forties, and it was along its line that Johnston retreated +before Sherman, from Chattanooga to Atlanta. +Though it is now leased and operated by the Nashville, +Chattanooga & St. Louis Railroad Company, it is still +owned by the State of Georgia. The lease, however, expires +soon, and (an interesting fact in view of the continued +agitation in other parts of the country for government +ownership of corporations) there is a strong sentiment +in Georgia in favor of selling the railroad; for it is +estimated that, at a fair price, it would yield a sum sufficient +not only to wipe out the entire bonded indebtedness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +of the State ($7,000,000), but to leave ten or twelve millions +clear in the State treasury.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At Roswell, Georgia, a sleepy little hamlet in the +hills, not many miles from Atlanta, stands Bulloch Hall, +where Martha ("Mittie") Bulloch, later Mrs. Theodore +Roosevelt, mother of the President, was born. Roswell +was originally settled, long ago, by people from Savannah, +Darien, and other towns of the flat, hot country +near the coast, who drove there in their carriages and +remained during the summer. After a time, however, +three prosperous families—the Bullochs, Dunwoodys, +and Barrington Kings—made their permanent homes at +Roswell.</p> + +<p>Bulloch Hall is one of those old white southern colonial +houses the whole front of which consists of a +great pillared portico, in the Greek style, giving a look +of dignity and hospitality. Almost all such houses are, +as they should be, surrounded by fine old trees; those at +Bulloch Hall are especially fine: tall cedars, ancient +white oaks, giant osage oranges, and a pair of holly +trees, one at either side of the walk near the front door.</p> + +<p>Theodore Roosevelt, Sr., and Mittie Bulloch met here +when they were respectively seventeen and fifteen years +of age. A half sister of Miss Mittie had married a +relative of the Roosevelts and gone from Roswell to live +in Philadelphia, and it was while visiting at her home +that young Roosevelt, hearing a great deal of the South, +conceived a desire to go there. This resulted in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> +first visit to Bulloch Hall, and his meeting with Mittie +Bulloch. On his return to the North he was sent +abroad, but two or three years later when he went again +to visit his relatives in Philadelphia, Miss Mittie was +also a guest at their house, and this time the two became +engaged.</p> + +<p>Save that the Bulloch furniture is no longer there, the +interior of the old Georgia residence stands practically +as it was when Theodore Roosevelt and Mittie Bulloch +were married in the dining room. Through the center, +from front to back, runs a wide hall, on either side of +which is a pair of spacious square rooms, each with a +fireplace, each with large windows looking out over the +beautiful hilly country which spreads all about. It +is a lovely house in a lovely setting, and, though the Bullochs +reside there no longer, Miss Mittie Bulloch is not +forgotten in Roswell, for one of her bridesmaids, Miss +Evelyn King, now Mrs. Baker, still resides in Barrington +Hall, not far distant from the old Bulloch homestead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII<br /> +<br /> +ALIVE ATLANTA</h2> + + +<p>An army officer, a man of broad sympathies, +familiar with the whole United States, warned +me before I went south that I must not judge +the South by northern standards.</p> + +<p>"On the side of picturesqueness and charm," he said, +"the South can more than hold its own against the rest +of the country; likewise on the side of office-holding and +flowery oratory; but you must not expect southern cities +to have the energy you are accustomed to in the North."</p> + +<p>As to the picturesqueness, charm, officeholding, and +oratory, I found his judgments substantially correct, +but though I did perceive a certain lack of energy in +some small cities, I should not call that trait a leading +one in the larger southern cities to-day. On the contrary, +I was impressed, in almost every large center that +I visited, with the fact that, in the South more, perhaps, +than in any other part of the country, a great awakening +is in progress. The dormant period of the South is +past, and all manner of developments are everywhere in +progress. Nor do I know of any city which better exemplifies +southern growth and progress than Atlanta.</p> + +<p>My Baedeker, dated 1909, opens its description of At<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span>lanta +with the statement that the German consul there +is Dr. E. Zoepffel. I doubt it—but let us pass over that. +It describes Atlanta as "a prosperous commercial and +industrial city and an important railroad center, well +situated, 1030-1175 feet above the sea, enjoying a +healthy and bracing climate." That is true. Atlanta +is, if I mistake not, the highest important city east of +Denver, and I believe her climate is in part responsible +for her energy, as it is also for the fact that her vegetation +is more like that of a northern than a southern +city, elms and maples rather than magnolias, being the +trees of the Atlanta streets.</p> + +<p>Baedeker gave Atlanta about 90,000 inhabitants in +1909, but the census of 1910 jumped her up to more +than 150,000, while the estimate of 1917 in the "World +Almanac" credits her with about 180,000. Moreover, +in the almanac's list of the largest cities of the earth, +Atlanta comes twentieth from the top. It is my duty, +perhaps, to add that the list is arranged alphabetically—which +reminds me that some cynic has suggested that +there may have been an alphabetical arrangement of +names, also, in the celebrated list in which Abou Ben +Adhem's "name led all the rest." Nevertheless, it may +be stated that, according to the almanac's population +figures, Atlanta is larger than the much more ancient +city of Athens (I refer to Athens, Greece; not Athens, +Georgia), as well as such considerable cities as Bari, +Bochum, Graz, Kokand, and Omsk. Atlanta is, in +short, a city of about the size of Goteborg, and if she has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +not yet achieved the dimensions of Baku, Belem, Changsha, +Tashkent, or West Ham, she is growing rapidly, +and may some day surpass them all; yes, and even that +thriving metropolis, Yekaterinoslav.</p> + +<p>As to the "healthy and bracing climate," I know that +Atlanta is cool and lovely in the spring, and I am told +that her prosperous families do not make it a practice +to absent themselves from home during the summer, +according to the custom of the corresponding class in +many other cities, northern as well as southern.</p> + +<p>Atlanta is one of the few large inland cities located +neither upon a river nor a lake. When the city was +founded, the customs of life in Georgia were such that +no one ever dreamed that the State might some day go +dry. Having plenty of other things to drink, the early +settlers gave no thought to water. But, as time went on, +and prohibition became a more and more important +issue, the citizens of Atlanta began to perceive that, in +emergency, the Chattahoochee River might, after all, +have its uses. Water was, consequently, piped from the +river to the city, and is now generally—albeit in some +quarters mournfully—used. Though I am informed by +an expert in Indian languages that the Cherokee word +"chattahoochee" is short for "muddy," the water is filtered +before it reaches the city pipes, and is thoroughly +palatable, whether taken plain or mixed.</p> + +<p>Well-off though Atlanta is, she would esteem herself +better off, in a material sense at least, had she a navigable +stream; for her chief industrial drawback consists<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +in railroad freight rates unmodified by water competition. +She has, to be sure, a number of factories, including +a Ford automobile plant, but she has not so many +factories as her strategic position, stated by General +Sherman, would seem to justify, or as her own industrial +ambitions cause her to desire. For does not every progressive +American city yearn to bristle with factory +chimneys, even as a summer resort folder bristles with +exclamation points? And is not soot a measure of +success?</p> + +<p>Atlanta's line of business is largely office business; +many great corporations have their headquarters or +their general southern branches in the city; one of the +twelve Federal Reserve Banks is there, and there are +many strong banks. Indeed, I suppose Atlanta has more +bankers, in proportion to her population, than any other +city in the United States. Some of these bankers are +active citizens and permanent residents of the city; +others have given up banking for the time being and +are in temporary residence at the Federal Penitentiary.</p> + +<p>The character of commerce carried on, naturally +brings to Atlanta large numbers of prosperous and able +men—corporation officials, branch managers, manufacturers' +agents, and the like—who, with their families, +give Atlanta a somewhat individual social flavor. This +class of population also accounts for the fact that the +enterprisingness so characteristic of Atlanta is not the +mere rough, ebullient spirit of "go to it!" to be found +in so many hustling cities of the Middle West and West,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> +but is, oftentimes, an informed and cultivated kind +of enterprisingness, which causes Atlanta not only to +"do things," but to do things showing vision, and, furthermore, +to do them with an "air."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> +<a name="p376jpg" id="p376jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p376.jpg" width="440" height="600" alt="The office buildings are city office buildings, and are sufficiently numerous to +look very much at home" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The office buildings are city office buildings, and are sufficiently numerous to +look very much at home</span> +</div> + +<p>This is illustrated in various ways. It is shown, for +example, in Atlanta's principal hotels, which are not +small-town hotels, or good-enough hotels, but would do +credit to any city, however great. The office buildings +are city office buildings, and in the downtown section +they are sufficiently numerous to look very much at +home, instead of appearing a little bit exotic, self-conscious, +and lonesome, as new skyscrapers do in so many +cities of Atlanta's size. Even the smoke with which +the skyscrapers are streaked is city smoke. Chicago +herself could hardly produce smoke of more metropolitan +texture—certainly not on the Lake Front, where the +Illinois Central trains send up their black clouds; for Atlanta's +downtown smoke, like Chicago's, comes in large +part from railroads piercing the heart of the city. +Where downtown business streets cross the railroad +tracks, the latter are depressed, the highways passing +above on steel bridges resembling the bridges over the +Chicago River. The railroad's right of way is, furthermore, +just about as wide as the Chicago River, and rows +of smoke-stained brick buildings turn their backs upon +it, precisely as similar buildings turn theirs upon Chicago's +busy, narrow stream. I wonder if all travelers, +familiar with Chicago, are so persistently reminded of +that portion of the city which is near the river, as I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> +by that portion of Atlanta abutting on the tracks by +which the Seaboard Air Line enters the city.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p353jpg" id="p353jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p353.jpg" width="600" height="426" alt="A reminder of the Chicago River—Atlanta" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A reminder of the Chicago River—Atlanta</span> +</div> + +<p>Generally speaking, railroads in the South have not +been so prosperous as leading roads in the North, and +with the exception of the most important through trains, +their passenger equipment is, therefore, not so good. +The Seaboard Air Line, however, runs an all-steel train +between Atlanta and Birmingham which, in point of +equipment, may be compared with the best limited trains +anywhere. The last car in this train, instead of being +part sleeping car and part observation car, is a combination +dining and observation car—a very pleasant +arrangement, for men are allowed to smoke in the observation +end after dinner. This is, to my mind, an improvement +over the practice of most railroads, which +obliges men who wish to smoke to leave the ladies with +whom they may be traveling. All Seaboard dining cars +offer, aside from regular à la carte service, a sixty-cent +dinner known as the "Blue Plate Special." This +dinner has many advantages over the usual dining-car +repast. In the first place, though it does not +comprise bread and butter, coffee or tea, or dessert, it +provides an ample supply of meat and vegetables at a +moderate price. In the second place, though served at +a fixed price, it bears no resemblance to the old-style +dining car table d'hôte, but, upon the contrary, looks +and tastes like food. The food, furthermore, instead +of representing a great variety of viands served in microscopic +helpings on innumerable platters and "side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> +dishes," comes on one great plate, with recesses for vegetables. +The "Blue Plate Special" furnishes, in short, +the chief items in a "good home meal."</p> + +<p>This is, perhaps, as convenient a place as any in which +to speak of certain points concerning various railroads in +the South. The Central of Georgia Railway, running +between Atlanta and Savannah, instead of operating +Pullmans, has its own sleeping cars. This is the only +railroad I know of in the country on which the tenant +of a lower berth, below an unoccupied upper, may have +the upper closed without paying for it. One likes the +Central of Georgia for this humane dispensation. The +locomotives of the Western & Atlantic carry as a distinguishing +mark a red band at the top of the smokestack. +The Southern Railway assigns engineers to individual +engines, instead of "pooling power," as is the +practice, I believe, on many railroads. Because of this, +engineers on the Southern regard the locomotives to +which they are regularly assigned, as their personal +property, and exercise their individual taste in embellishing +them. Brass bands, brass flagstaffs, brass eagles +over the headlight, and similar adornments are therefore +often seen on the engines of this road, giving the most +elaborate of them a carnival appearance, by contrast +with the somber black to which most of us are accustomed, +and hinting that not all the individuality has been +unionized out of locomotive engineers—an impression +heightened by the Southern Railway's further pleasant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +custom of painting the names of its older and more +expert engineers upon the cabs of their locomotives.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Some cities are like lumbering old farm horses, plugging +along a dusty country road. When another horse +overtakes them, if they be not altogether wanting in +spirit, they may be encouraged to jog a little faster for +a moment, stimulated by example. If, besides being +stupid, they are mean, then they want to kick or bite at +the speedier animal going by. Some cities are like that, +too. If an energetic city overtakes them, they are not +spurred on to emulation, but lay back their ears, so to +speak. Again, there are tough, sturdy little cities like +buckskin ponies. There are skittish cities which seem to +have been badly broken. There are old cities with a +worn-out kind of elegance, like that of superannuated +horses of good breed, hitched to an old-fashioned +barouche. There are bad, bucking cities, like Butte, +Montana. And here and there are cities, like Atlanta, +reminding one of thoroughbred hunters. There is a +brave, sporting something in the spirit of Atlanta which +makes it rush courageously at big jumps, and clear them, +and land clean on the other side, and be off again. +Like a thoroughbred, she loves the chase. She goes in +to win. She doesn't stop to worry about whether +she can win or not. She knows she will. And as +the thoroughbred, loving large and astonishing achievement, +lacks the humbler virtues of the reliable family car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span>riage +horse, Atlanta, it cannot be denied, has "<i>les défauts +de ses qualités</i>." For whereas, on the side of dashing +performance, Atlanta held a stock fair which, in one +year, surpassed any other held in the South, and secured +the grand circuit of races, on the other side she is careless +about hospitals and charities; and whereas, on the +one side, she has raised millions for the building of two +new universities (which, by the way, would be much +better as one great university, but cannot be, because of +sectarian domination), on the other, she is deficient as to +schools; and again, whereas she is the only secondary +city to have an annual season of Metropolitan grand +opera (and to make it pay!) she is behind many other +cities, including her neighbors, New Orleans and Savannah, +in caring for the public health.</p> + +<p>I am by no means sure that the regular spring visit of +the Metropolitan Grand Opera Company may be taken +as a sign that Atlanta is peculiarly a music-loving community. +Indeed, I was told by one Atlanta lady, herself +a musician, that the city did not contain more than a +thousand persons of real musical appreciation, that a +number of these could not afford to attend the operatic +performances, and that opera week was, consequently, +in reality more an occasion of great social festivity than +of devout homage to art.</p> + +<p>"Our opera week," she told me, "bears the same relation +to the life of Atlanta as Mardi Gras does to that of +New Orleans. It is an advertisement for the city, and +an excuse for every one to have a good time. Every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> +night after the performance there are suppers and +dances, which the opera stars attend. They always +seem to enjoy coming here. They act as though they +were off on a picnic, skylarking about the hotel, snap-shotting +one another, and playing all manner of pranks. +And, of course, while they are here they own the town. +Caruso draws his little caricatures for the Atlanta girls, +and Atlanta men have been dazzled, in successive seasons, +by such gorgeous beings as Geraldine Farrar, +Alma Gluck, and Maria Barrientos—not only across the +footlights of the auditorium, mind you, but at close +range; as, for instance, at dances at the Driving Club, +with Chinese lanterns strung on the terrace, a full moon +above, and—one year—with the whole Metropolitan +Orchestra playing dance music all night long!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p368jpg" id="p368jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p368.jpg" width="600" height="409" alt="With the whole Metropolitan Orchestra playing dance music all night long" title="" /> +<span class="caption">With the whole Metropolitan Orchestra playing dance music all night long</span> +</div> + +<p>Another lady, endeavoring to picture to me the strain +involved in the week's gaieties, informed me that when +it was all over she went for a rest to New York, where +she attended "a house party at the Waldorf"!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Of all Atlanta's undertakings, planned or accomplished, +that which most interested my companion and +me was the one for turning a mountain into a sculptured +monument to the Confederacy.</p> + +<p>Sixteen miles to the east of the city the layer of granite +which underlies the region stuck its back up, so to speak, +forming a great smooth granite hump, known as Stone +Mountain. This mountain is one of America's natural +wonders. In form it may be compared with a round-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span>backed +fish, such as a whale or porpoise, lying on its +belly, partly imbedded in a beach, and some conception +of its dimensions may be gathered from the fact that +from nose to tail it measures about two miles, while the +center of its back is as high as the Woolworth Building +in New York. Moreover, there is not a fissure in it; +monoliths a thousand feet long have been quarried from +it; it is as solid as the Solid South.</p> + +<p>The perpendicular streaks of light and dark gray and +gray-green, made by the elements upon the face of the +rock, coupled with the waterfall-like curve of that face, +make one think of a sort of sublimated petrified Niagara—a +fancy enhanced, on windy days, by the roar of the +gale-lashed forest at the mountain's foot.</p> + +<p>The idea of turning the mountain into a Confederate +memorial originated with Mr. William H. Terrell of +Atlanta. It was taken up with inspired energy by Mrs. +C. Helen Plane, an Atlanta lady, now eighty-seven years +of age, who is honorary president of the United Daughters +of the Confederacy and president of the Stone +Mountain Memorial Association. Mrs. Plane presented +the memorial plan to Mr. Samuel H. Venable of Venable +Brothers, owners of the mountain, and Mr. Venable +promptly turned over the whole face of the mountain to +the Memorial Association. The exact form the memorial +was to take had not at that time been developed. +Gutzon Borglum was, however, called in, and worked +out a stupendous idea, which he has since been commissioned +to execute. On the side of the mountain,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +about four hundred feet above the ground, a roadway is +to be gouged out of the granite. On this roadway will +be carved, in gigantic outlines, a Confederate army, +headed by Lee and Jackson on horseback. Other generals +will follow, and will, in turn, be followed by infantry, +cavalry and artillery. The leading groups will +be in full relief and the equestrian figures will be fifty or +more feet tall. This means that the faces of the chief +figures will measure almost the height of a man. The +figures to the rear of the long column will, according to +present plans, be in bas-relief, and the whole procession +will cover a strip perhaps a mile long, all of it carved out +of the solid mountainside.</p> + +<p>A considerable tract of forest land at the foot of the +great rock has already been dedicated as a park. Here, +concealed by the trees, at a point below the main group +of figures, a temple, with thirteen columns representing +the thirteen Confederate States, is to be hewn out of the +mountain, to be used as a place for the safe-keeping of +Confederate relics and archives.</p> + +<p>Two million dollars is the sum spoken of to cover the +total cost, and one of the finest things about the plans +for raising this money is that contributions from the +entire country are being accepted, so that not only the +South, but the whole nation, may have a share in the +creation of a memorial to that dead government which +the South so poetically adores, yet which it would not +willingly resurrect, and in the realization of a work resembling +nothing so much as Kipling's conception of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> +artist in heaven, who paints on "a ten-league canvas, +with brushes of comet's hair."</p> + +<p>Until the Stone Mountain Memorial is completed, +Atlanta's most celebrated monument will continue to be +that of Jack Smith. The Jack Smith monument stands +in Oakland Cemetery, not over the grave of Jack Smith, +but over the grave that local character intends some day +to occupy. Mr. Smith is reputed to be rich. He built +the downtown office building known as "The House that +Jack Built." As befits the owner of an office building, +he wears a silk hat, but a certain democratic simplicity +may be observed in the rest of his attire, especially about +the region of the neck, for though he apparently believes +in the convention concerning the wearing of collars, he +has a prejudice against the concealing of a portion of +the collar by that useless and snobbish adornment, the +necktie. Each spring, I am informed, it is his custom +to visit his cemetery lot and inspect the statue of himself +which a commendable foresight has caused him to erect +over his proposed final resting place. It is said that +upon the occasion of last season's vernal visit he was +annoyed at finding his effigy cravated by a vine which +had grown up and encircled the neck. This he caused +to be removed; and it is to be hoped that when, at +last, his monument achieves its ultimate purpose, those +who care for the cemetery will see to it that leafy tendrils +be not permitted to mount to the marble collar of the +figure, to form a necktie, or to obscure the nobly sculptured +collar button.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV<br /> +<br /> +GEORGIA JOURNALISM</h2> + + +<p>In journalism Atlanta is far in advance of many cities +of her size, North or South. The Atlanta "Constitution," +founded nearly half a century ago, is one +of the country's most distinguished newspapers. The +"Constitution" came into its greatest fame in the early +eighties, when Captain Evan P. Howell—the same Captain +Howell who commanded a battery at the battle of +Peachtree Creek, in the defense of Atlanta, and who +later called, with his son, on General Sherman, as +already recorded—became its editor, and Henry W. +Grady its managing editor. Like William Allen White +and Walt Mason of the Emporia (Kansas) "Gazette," +who work side by side, admire each other, but disagree +on every subject save that of the infallibility of the +ground hog as a weather prophet, Howell and Grady +worked side by side and were devoted friends, while disagreeing +personally, and in print, on prohibition and +many other subjects. Grady would speak at prohibition +rallies and, sometimes on the same night, Howell would +speak at anti-prohibition rallies. In their speeches they +would attack each other. The accounts of these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> +speeches, as well as conflicting articles written by the +two, would always appear in the "Constitution."</p> + +<p>Of the pair of public monuments to individuals which +I remember having seen in Atlanta, one was the pleasing +memorial, in Piedmont Park, to Sidney Lanier (who was +peculiarly a Georgia poet, having been born in Macon, in +that State, and having written some of his most beautiful +lines under the spell of Georgia scenes), and the other the +statue of Henry W. Grady, which stands downtown in +Marietta Street.</p> + +<p>The Grady monument—one regrets to say it—is less +fortunate as a work of art than as a deserved symbol of +remembrance. Grady not only ought to have a monument, +but as one whose writings prove him to have been +a man of taste, he ought to have a better one than this +poor mid-Victorian thing, placed in the middle of a wide, +busy street, with Fords parked all day long about its base.</p> + +<p>Says the inscription:</p> + +<p class='center'> +HE NEVER SOUGHT A PUBLIC OFFICE.<br /> + WHEN HE DIED HE WAS LITERALLY<br /> + LOVING A NATION INTO PEACE. +</p> + +<p>On another side of the base is chiseled a characteristic +extract from one of Grady's speeches. This speech was +made in 1899, in Boston, and one hopes that it may have +been heard by the late Charles Francis Adams, who +labored in Massachusetts for the cause of intersectional +harmony, just as Grady worked for it in Georgia.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>This hour [said Grady] little needs the loyalty that is loyal +to one section and yet holds the other in enduring suspicion and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +estrangement. Give us the broad and perfect loyalty that loves +and trusts Georgia alike with Massachusetts—that knows no +South, no North, no East, no West; but endears with equal and +patriotic love every foot of our soil, every State in our Union.</p></div> + +<p>Grady could not only write and say stirring things; he +could be witty. He once spoke at a dinner of the New +England Society, in New York, at which General Sherman +was also present.</p> + +<p>"Down in Georgia," he said, "we think of General +Sherman as a great general; but it seems to us he was a +little careless with fire."</p> + +<p>Nor was Grady less brilliant as managing editor than +upon the platform. He had the kind of enterprise which +made James Gordon Bennett such a dashing figure in +newspaper life, and the New York "Herald" such a complete +<i>news</i>paper—the kind of enterprise that charters +special trains, and at all hazards gets the story it +is after. Back in the early eighties Grady was running +the Atlanta "Constitution" in just that way. If a +big story "broke" in any of the territory around Atlanta, +Grady would not wait upon train schedules, but would +hire an engine and send his men to the scene. Once, following +a sensational murder, he learned that the Birmingham +"Age-Herald" had a big story dealing with +developments in the case. He wired the "Age-Herald" +offering a large price for the story. When his offer +was refused Grady knew that if he could not devise a +way to get the story, Atlanta would be flooded next day +with "Age-Heralds" containing the "beat" on the "Con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span>stitution." +He at once chartered a locomotive and +rushed two reporters and four telegraph operators down +the line toward Birmingham. At Aniston, Alabama, +the locomotive met the train which was bringing "Age-Heralds" +to Atlanta. A copy of the paper was secured. +The "Constitution" men then broke into a telegraph +office and wired the whole story in to their paper, with +the result that the "Constitution" was out with it before +the Birmingham papers reached Atlanta.</p> + +<p>Atlanta was at that time a town of only about 40,000 +inhabitants, but the "Constitution," in the days of +Howell and Grady, had a circulation four times greater +than the total population of the city—a situation almost +unheard of in journalism. Something of the breadth +of its influence may be gathered from the fact that in +several counties in Texas, where the law provided that +whatever newspaper had the largest circulation in the +county should be the county organ, the county organ +was the Atlanta "Constitution."</p> + +<p>An Atlanta lady tells of having called upon Grady +to complain about an article which she did not think the +"Constitution" should have printed.</p> + +<p>"Why did you put that objectionable article in your +paper?" she asked him.</p> + +<p>"Did you read it?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Grady, "that's why I put it there."</p> + +<p>Grady and Howell always ran a lively sporting de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span>partment. +Away back in the days of bare-knuckle prize +fights—such as those between Sullivan and Ryan, and +Sullivan and Kilrain—a "Constitution" reporter was always +at the ringside, no matter where the fight might +take place. For a newspaper in a town of forty or fifty +thousand inhabitants, a large percentage of them colored +illiterates, this was real enterprise.</p> + +<p>A favorite claim of Grady's was that his reporters +were the greatest "leg artists" in the world. He used +to organize walking matches for reporters, offering +large prizes and charging admission. This developed, +in the middle eighties, a general craze for such matches, +and resulted in the holding of many inter-city contests, +in which teams, four men to a side, took part. One of +the "Constitution's" champion "leg artists" was Sam W. +Small, now an evangelist and member of the "flying +squadron" of the Anti-Saloon League of America.</p> + +<p>The most widely celebrated individual ever connected +with the "Constitution" was Joel Chandler Harris, many +of whose "Uncle Remus" stories—those negro folk +tales still supreme in their field—appeared originally in +that paper. In view of Mr. Harris's achievement it is +pleasant to recall that there was paid to him during his +life one of the finest tributes that an author can receive. +As with "Mr. Dooley" of our day, he came, himself, to +be affectionately referred to by the name of the chief +character in his works. "Uncle Remus" he was, and +"Uncle Remus" he will always be. Mr. Harris's eldest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +son, Julian, widely known as a journalist, is said to have +been the little boy to whom "Uncle Remus" told his +tales.</p> + +<p>Though there is, as yet, no public monument in Atlanta +to Joel Chandler Harris, the "Wren's Nest," his +former home, at 214 Gordon Street, is fittingly preserved +as a memorial. Visitors may see the old letter +box fastened to a tree by the gate—that box in +which a wren built her nest, giving the house its name. +It is a simple old house with the air of a home about +it, and the intimate possessions of the author lie about +as he left them. His bed is made up, his umbrella hangs +upon the mantelshelf, his old felt hat rests upon the +rack, the photograph of his friend James Whitcomb +Riley looks down from the bedroom wall, and on the +table, by the window, stands his typewriter—the confidant +first to know his new productions.</p> + +<p>The presence of these personal belongings keeps alive +the illusion that "Uncle Remus" has merely stepped +out for a little while—is hiding in the garden, waiting +for us to go away. It would be like him, for he +was among the most modest and retiring of men, as +there are many amusing anecdotes to indicate. Once +when some one had persuaded him to attend a large +dinner in New York, they say, he got as far as New +York, but as the dinner hour approached could not bear +to face the adulation awaiting him, and incontinently +fled back to Atlanta.</p> + +<p>Frank L. Stanton, poet laureate of Georgia, and of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +the "Constitution," joined the "Constitution" staff +through the efforts of Mr. Harris, one of whose closest +intimates he was. Speaking of Mr. Harris's gift for +negro dialect, Mr. Stanton told me that there was one +negro exclamation which "Uncle Remus" always wished +to reproduce, but which he never quite felt could be +expressed, in writing, to those unfamiliar with the +negro at first hand: that is the exclamation of amazement, +which has the sound, "mmm—<i>mh!</i>"—the first syllable +being long and the last sharp and exclamatory.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton has for years conducted a column of +verse and humorous paragraphic comment, under the +heading "Just from Georgia," on the editorial page of +the "Constitution." Some idea of the high estimation +in which he is held in his State is to be gathered from +the fact that "Frank L. Stanton Day" is annually celebrated +in the Georgia schools.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton began his newspaper career as a country +editor in the town of Smithville, Georgia. Mr. Harris, +then a member of the "Constitution's" editorial staff, +began reprinting in that journal verses and paragraphs +written by Stanton, with the result that the Smithville +paper became known all over the country. Later Stanton +moved to Rome, Georgia, becoming an editorial +writer on a paper there—the "Tribune," edited at that +time by John Temple Graves, if I am not mistaken. +Still later he removed to Atlanta, joined the staff of the +"Constitution," and started the department which has +now continued for more than twenty-five years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joel Chandler Harris used to tell a story about Stanton's +first days in the "Constitution" office. According +to this story, the paper on which Stanton had worked +in Rome had not been prosperous, and salaries were +uncertain. When the business manager went out +to try to raise money in the town, he never returned +without first reading the signals placed by his assistant +in the office window. If a red flag was shown, +it signified that a collector was waiting in the office. In +that event the business manager would not come in, but +would circle about until the collector became tired of +waiting and departed—a circumstance indicated by the +withdrawal of the red flag and the substitution of a +white one. According to the story, as it was told to +me, reporters on the paper were seldom paid; if one of +them made bold to ask for his salary, he was likely to +be discharged. It was from this uncertain existence +that Stanton was lured to the "Constitution" by an offer +of $22.50 per week. When he had been on the "Constitution" +for three weeks Mr. Harris discovered that he +had drawn no salary. This surprised him—as indeed +it would any man who had had newspaper experience.</p> + +<p>"Stanton," he said, "you are the only newspaper man +I have ever seen who is so rich he doesn't need to draw +his pay."</p> + +<p>But, as it turned out, Stanton was not so prosperous +as Harris perhaps supposed. He was down to his last +dime, and had been wondering how he could manage to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> +get along; for his training on the Rome paper had taught +him never to ask for money lest he lose his job.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said to Harris, "I could use <i>some</i> of my +salary—if you're sure it won't be any inconvenience?"</p> + +<p>Those familiar with the works of Mr. Stanton, Mr. +Harris, and James Whitcomb Riley, Indiana's great +poet, will perceive that certain similar tastes and feelings +inform their writings, and will not be surprised +to learn, if not already aware of it, that the three were +friends. Mr. Stanton's only absence from Atlanta since +he joined the "Constitution," was on the occasion of a +visit he paid Mr. Riley at the latter's home in Indianapolis. +The best of Stanton's work must have appealed +to Riley, for it contains not a little of the kindly, homely, +humorous truthfulness, and warmth of sentiment, of +which Riley was himself such a master. Among the +most widely familiar verses of the Georgia poet are +those of his "Mighty Like a Rose," set to music by Ethelbert +Nevin, and "Just a-Wearying for You," with music +by Carrie Jacobs Bond. "Money" is a verse in +hilarious key, which many will remember for the comical +vigor of the last three lines in its first stanza:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When a fellow has spent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His last red cent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world looks blue, you bet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But give him a dollar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you'll hear him holler:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There's life in the old land yet!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>Richly humorous though Stanton is, he can also +reach the heart. The former Governor of a Western +State picked up Stanton's book, "Songs of the Soil," +and after reading "Hanging Bill Jones," and "A Tragedy," +therein, commuted the sentence of a man who was +to have been executed next day. One hopes the man +deserved to escape. In another case an individual who +was about to commit suicide chanced to see in an old +newspaper Stanton's encouraging verses called "Keep +a-Goin'," and was stimulated by them to have a fresh +try at life on earth instead of elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Joel Chandler Harris wrote the introduction to +"Songs of the Soil." Other collections of Stanton's +works are "Songs of Dixie Land," and "Comes One +With a Song." The danger in starting to quote from +these books—which, by the way, are chiefly made up of +measures that appeared originally in the "Constitution"—is +that one does not like to stop. I have, however, +limited myself to but one more theft, and instead +of making my own choice, have left the selection to a +friend of Mr. Stanton's, who has suggested the lines +entitled "A Poor Unfortunate":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His hoss went dead, an' his mule went lame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lost six cows in a poker game;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A harricane come on a summer's day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' carried the house whar he lived away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then a earthquake come when <i>that</i> wuz gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' swallered the land that the house stood on!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' the tax collector, he come roun'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' charged him up fer the hole in the groun'!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +<span class="i0">An' the city marshal he come in view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' said he wanted his street tax, too!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did he moan an' sigh? Did he set an' cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' cuss the harricane sweepin' by?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did he grieve that his old friends failed to call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the earthquake come and swallered all?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never a word o' blame he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all them troubles on top his head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not him! He climbed on top o' the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whar stan'in' room wuz left him still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An', barrin' his head, here's what he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I reckon it's time to git up an' git,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, Lord, I hain't had the measles yit!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Among those who have been on the staff of the "Constitution" +and have become widely known, may be mentioned +the gifted Corra Harris, many of whose stories +have Georgia backgrounds, and who still keeps as a +country home in the State where she was born, a log +cabin, known as "In the Valley," at Pine Log, Georgia; +also the perhaps equally (though differently) talented +Robert Adamson, whose administration as fire +commissioner of the City of New York was so able as +to result in a reduction of insurance rates.</p> + +<p>Atlanta reporters, it would seem, run to the New +York Fire Department, for Joseph Johnson, who preceded +Mr. Adamson as commissioner, was once a reporter +on the Atlanta "Journal." The latter paper used +to belong to Hoke Smith. It was at one time edited by +John Temple Graves, who later edited the Atlanta +"Georgian," and is now a member of the forces of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> +William Randolph Hearst, in New York. The late +Jacques Futrelle, the author, who went down with the +<i>Titanic</i>, was a Georgian, and worked for years on the +"Journal." Don Marquis, one of the most brilliant +American newspaper "columnists," now in charge of +the department known as "The Sun Dial" on the New +York "Evening Sun," was also at one time on the "Journal," +as was likewise Grantland Rice, America's most +widely read sporting writer. Lollie Belle Wiley, whose +poetry has a distinct southern quality, is, I believe, a +member of the "Journal's" staff. As the eminent Ty +Cobb once wrote a book, it seems fair to mention him +also among Georgian authors, though so far as I know +he never worked on an Atlanta paper. And if Atlanta's +three celebrated golfers have not written for the papers, +they have at least supplied the sporting page with much +material. Miss Alexa Sterling of Atlanta, a young +lady under twenty, is one of the best women golfers in +the United States; Perry Adair also figures in national +golf, and Robert T. ("Bobby") Jones, Jr., who was +southern champion at the age of fourteen, is, perhaps, +an unprecedented marvel at the game—so at least my +golfing friends inform me.</p> + +<p>The continued militancy of the "Constitution," under +the editorship of Clark Howell, who sits in his father's +old chair, with a bust of Grady at his elbow, is evidenced +not only by its frequent editorials against lynching, but +by its fearless campaign against another Georgia +specialty—the "paper colonel." The ranks of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> +"paper colonels" in the South are chiefly made up of +lawyers who "have been colonelized by custom for no +other reason than that they have led their clients to victory +in legal battles." Some of the real colonels have +been objecting to the paper kind, and the "Constitution" +has bravely backed up the objection.</p> + +<p>The liveliness of journalism in Georgia does not begin +and end in Atlanta. The Savannah "Morning +News" has an able editorial page, and there are many +others in the State. Some of the small-town papers are, +moreover, well worth reading for that kind of breeziness +which we usually associate with the West rather than +the South. Consider, for example, the following, in +which the Dahlonega (Georgia) "Nugget," published up +in the mountains, in the section where gold is mined, +discusses the failings of one Billie Adams, the editor's +own son-in-law:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>On Saturday last, Billie Adams and his wife waylaid the public +road over on Crown Mountain, where this sorry piece of humanity +stood and cursed while his wife knocked down and beat her +sister, Emma. He is a son-in-law of ours, but if the Lord had +anything to do with him, He must have made a mistake and +thought He was breathing the breath of life into a dog.</p> + +<p>He is too lazy to work and lays around and waits for his wife +to get what she can procure on credit, until she can get nothing +more for him and the children to eat. Recently he claimed to be +gone to Tennessee in search of work. Upon hearing that his +family had nothing to eat, we had Carl Brooksher send over nearly +four dollars' worth of provisions. In he came and sat there and +feasted until every bite was gone. But this ends it with us.</p> + +<p>There are a lot of people who have sorry kinfolks, but in this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> +instance if there were prizes offered, we would certainly win the +first.</p> + +<p>Last year, thinking he would scare his mother-in-law and sister-in-law +off from where they live, so he could get the place, he shot +two holes through their window, turned their mule out of the +stable, and tried to run it into the bean patch, besides hanging +up a bunch of switches at the drawbars. Then their fence was +set afire twice. This is said to be the work of his wife. Then, +after carrying home meat, flour, lard, and vegetables to eat for +her mother and sister, he whipped the latter because she refused +to give him two of the wagon wheels.</p> + +<p>The city made a case against both for the whipping, and the +wife, although coming to town alone frequently during the day, +brought her baby and everything to the council room, plead +guilty and was fined one and costs. Billie didn't appear, but if +he stays in this country Marshal Wimpy will have him, when all +these things will come to light, both in the council chamber and +grand jury room.</p></div> + +<p>The scandal of newspaperdom in Georgia is, of +course, Tom Watson, who publishes the "Jeffersonian"—a +misnamed paper if there ever was one—in the town +of Thomson. Many years ago, when Edward P. +Thomas, now assistant to the president of the United +States Steel Corporation, was a little boy in Atlanta, +complaining about having his ears washed; when Theodore +D. Rousseau, secretary to Mayor Mitchel of New +York, was having his early education drilled into him +at the Ivy Street school; when Ralph Peters, now president +of the Long Island Railroad, had left Atlanta and +become a division superintendent on the Panhandle +Road; when the parents of Ivy Ledbetter Lee were wondering +to what college they would send him when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> +grew to be a big boy; when Robert Adamson was a +page in the Georgia Legislature—as long ago as that, +Tom Watson was waving his red head and prominent +Adam's apple as a member of the State House of Representatives. +In the mad and merry days of Bryanism +he became a Populist Member of Congress. He +was nominated for vice-president, to run on the Populist +ticket with Bryan. Later he ran for president on +the ticket of some unheard-of party, organized in protest +against the "conservatism" of the Populists. Watson's +paper reminds one of Brann and his "Iconoclast." +Reading it, I have never been able to discover what +Watson was <i>for</i>. All I could find out was what he was +violently against—and that is almost everything. He +is the wild ass of Georgia journalism; the thistles of +chaos are sweet in him, and order in any department of +life is a chestnut burr beneath his tail.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV<br /> +<br /> +SOME ATLANTA INSTITUTIONS</h2> + + +<p>There has been great rejoicing in Atlanta over +the raising of funds for the establishment there +of two new universities, Emory and Oglethorpe. +Emory was founded in 1914, as the result of a feud +which developed in Vanderbilt University, located at +Nashville, Tennessee, over the question as to whether +the institution should be controlled by the Board of +Bishops of the southern Methodist Episcopal Church, or +by the University trustees, who were not so much interested +in the development of the sectarian side of the university. +The fight was taken to the courts where the +trustees won. As a result, Methodist influence and support +were withdrawn from Vanderbilt, which thenceforward +became a non-sectarian college, and Emory was +started—Atlanta having been selected as its home because +nearly a million and a half dollars was raised in +Atlanta to bring it there.</p> + +<p>Oglethorpe is to be a Presbyterian institution, and +starts off with a million dollars.</p> + +<p>This will give Atlanta three rather important colleges, +since she already has the technical branch of the +University of Georgia, the main establishment of which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +located at Athens, Georgia, is one of the oldest state +universities in the country, having been founded in 1801. +(The University of Tennessee is the oldest state university +in the South. It was founded in 1794. The +University of Pennsylvania, dating from 1740, is the +oldest of all state universities. Harvard, founded in +1636, was the first college established in the country; +and the only other American colleges which survive +from the seventeenth century are William and Mary, at +Williamsburg, Virginia, established in 1693, and St. +John's College, at Annapolis, dating from 1696.)</p> + +<p>There is a tendency in some parts of the South to use +the terms "college" and "university" loosely. Some +schools for white persons, doing little if anything more +than grammar and high-school work, are called "colleges," +and negro institutions doing similar work are +sometimes grandiloquently termed "universities."</p> + +<p>Atlanta has thirteen public schools for negroes, but +no public high school for them. There are, however, +six large private educational institutions for negroes in +the city, doing high-school, college, or graduate work, +making Atlanta a great colored educational center. +Of these, Atlanta University, a non-sectarian co-educational +college with a white president (Mr. Edward +T. Ware, whose father came from New England +and founded the institution in 1867), is, I believe, the +oldest and largest. It is very highly spoken of. Atlanta +and Clark Universities are the only two colored +colleges in Atlanta listed in the "World Almanac's" table<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> +of American universities and colleges. Clark also has a +white man as president.</p> + +<p>Spelman Seminary, a Baptist institution for colored +girls, has a white woman president, and is partially supported +by Rockefeller money. Morehouse College, for +boys, has a colored president, an able man, is of similar +denomination and is also partially supported by +Rockefeller funds. Spelman and Morehouse are run +separately, excepting in college work, on which they +combine. Both are said to be excellent. Morris +Brown University is not a university at all, but does +grammar and high-school work. It is officered and +supported by colored people, all churches of the African +Methodist Episcopal denomination subscribing funds +for its maintenance. Gammon Theological Seminary +is, I am informed, the one adequately endowed educational +establishment for negroes in Atlanta. It would, +of course, be a splendid thing if the best of these schools +and colleges could be combined.</p> + +<p>Citizens of Atlanta do not, generally, take the interest +they ought to take in these or other institutions for +the benefit of negroes. To be sure, most Southerners do +not believe in higher education for negroes; but, even allowing +for that viewpoint, it is manifestly unfair that +white children should have public high schools and that +negro children should have none, but should be obliged +to pay for their education above the grammar grades. +Perhaps there are people in Atlanta who believe that +even a high-school education is undesirable for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> +negro. That, however, seems to me a pretty serious +thing for one race to attempt to decide for another—especially +when the deciding race is not deeply and sincerely +interested in the uplift of the race over which it +holds the whip hand. Certainly intelligent people in +the South believe in industrial training for the negro, +and equally certainly a negro high school could give industrial +training.</p> + +<p>Negroes are not admitted to Atlanta parks, nor are +there any parks exclusively for them. Until recently +there was no contagious-disease hospital to which negroes +could be taken, and there is not now a reformatory +for colored girls in the State of Georgia. Neither +is there any provision whatsoever in the State for the +care of feeble-minded colored children. And there is +one thing even worse to be said. Shameful as are +Georgia's frequent lynchings, shameful as is the State's +indifference to negro welfare, blacker yet is the law upon +her statute books making the "age of consent" <i>ten +years</i>! Various women's organizations, and individual +women, have, for decades, worked to change this law, +but without success. The term "southern chivalry" +must ring mocking and derisive in the ears of Georgia +legislators until this disgrace is wiped out. Standing +as it does, it means but one thing: that in order to protect +some white males in their depravity, the voters of +Georgia are satisfied to leave little girls, ten, eleven, +twelve years of age, and upward, white as well as colored, +utterly unprotected by the law in this regard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> + +<p>I have heard more than one woman in Georgia intimate +that she would be well pleased with a little less +exterior "chivalry" and a little more plain justice. +Aside from their efforts to change the "age of consent" +law, leading women in the State have been working +for compulsory education, for the opening of the +State University to women, for factory inspection and +decent child-labor laws. The question of child labor +has now been taken in hand by the National Government—as, +of course, the "age of consent" should also +be—but in other respects but little progress has been +made in Georgia.</p> + +<p>From such cheerless items I turn gladly to a happier +theme.</p> + +<p>As I have said elsewhere in this book, many colored +people in Atlanta are doing well in various ways. At +Atlanta University I saw several students whose fathers +and mothers were graduates of the same institution. +Higher education for the negro has, thus, come +into its second generation. More prosperous negroes in +Atlanta are doing social settlement work among less +fortunate members of their race, and have started a free +kindergarten for negro children. Many good people in +Atlanta are unaware of these facts, and I believe their +judgment on the entire negro question would be modified, +at least in certain details, were they merely to inform +themselves upon various creditable negro activities +in the city. The northern stranger, attempting to ascertain +the truth about the negro and the negro problem,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> +has to this extent the advantage of the average Southerner: +prejudice and indifference do not prevent his going +among the negroes to find out what they are doing +for themselves.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 433px;"> +<a name="p385png" id="p385png"></a> +<img src="images/p385.jpg" width="433" height="600" alt="The negro roof-garden, Odd Fellows' Building, Atlanta" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The negro roof-garden, Odd Fellows' Building, Atlanta</span> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At various times in my life chance has thrown me +into contact with charities in great variety, and philanthropic +work of many kinds. I have seen theoretical +charities, sentimental charities, silly charities, pauperizing +charities, wild-eyed charities, charities which did +good, and others which worked damage in the world; I +have seen organized charities splendidly run under difficult +circumstances (as in the Department of Charities +under Commissioner Kingsbury, in New York +City), and I have seen other organized charities badly +run at great expense; I have seen charities conducted +with the primary purpose of ministering to the vanity +of self-important individuals who like to say: "See all +the good that I am doing!" and I have seen other personal +charities operated (as in the case of the Rockefeller +Foundation) with a perfectly magnificent scope +and effectiveness.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, of all the charities I have seen, of all +the efforts I have witnessed to improve the condition +of humanity, none has taken a firmer hold upon my +heart than the Leonard Street Orphans' Home, for +negro girls, in Atlanta.</p> + +<p>The home is a humble frame building which was used +as a barracks by northern troops stationed in Atlanta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> +after the Civil War. In it reside Miss Chadwick, her +helpers, and about seventy little negro girls; and it is an +interesting fact that several of the helpers are young +colored women who, themselves brought up in the home +and taught to be self-supporting, have been drawn back +to the place by homesickness. Was ever before an orphan +homesick for an orphans' home?</p> + +<p>Miss Chadwick is an Englishwoman. Coming out to +America a good many years ago, she somehow found +Atlanta, and in Atlanta somehow found this orphanage, +which was then both figuratively and literally dropping +to pieces. Some one had to take hold of it, so Miss +Chadwick did. How successful she has been it is hard +to convey in words. I do not mean that she has succeeded +in building up a great flourishing plant with a +big endowment and all sorts of improvements. Far +from it. The home stands on a tiny lot, the building +is ramshackle and not nearly large enough for its purpose, +and sometimes it seems doubtful where the money +to keep it going will come from. Nevertheless the home +is a hundred times more successful than I could have believed +a home for orphans, colored or white, could be +made, had I not seen it with my own eyes. Its success +lies not in material possessions or prosperity, not in the +food and shelter it provides to those who so pitifully +needed it, but in the fact that it is in the truest and finest +sense a <i>home</i>, a place endowed with the greatest blessings +any home can have: contentment and affection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> +What Miss Chadwick has provided is, in short, an institution +with a heart.</p> + +<p>How did she do it? That, like the other mystery +of how she manages to house those seventy small lively +people in that little building, is something which only +Heaven and Miss Chadwick understand.</p> + +<p>But then, if you have ever visited the home and met +Miss Chadwick, and seen her with her children, you +know that Heaven and Miss Chadwick understand a lot +of things the rest of us don't know about at all!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI<br /> +<br /> +A BIT OF RURAL GEORGIA</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To walk with the morning and watch its rose unfold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drowse with the noontide lulled in its heart of gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lie with the night-time and dream the dreams of old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Madison Cawein.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>A man I know studies as a hobby something which +he calls "graphics"—the term denoting the reaction +of the mind to certain words. One of +the words he used in an experiment with me was "winter." +When he said "winter" there instantly came to +me the picture of a snowstorm in Quebec. I saw the +front of the Hotel Frontenac at dusk through a mist +of driving snow. There were lights in the windows. +A heavy wind was blowing and as I leaned against it +the front of my overcoat was plastered with sticky white +flakes. The streets and sidewalks were deep with snow, +and the only person besides myself in the vision was a +sentry standing with his gun in the lee of the vestibule +outside the local militia headquarters.</p> + +<p>If my friend were to come now and try me with the +word "spring," I know what picture it would call to +mind. I should see the Burge plantation, near Covington, +Georgia: the simple old white house with its rose-clad +porch, or "gallery," its grove of tall trees, its carriage-house, +its well-house, and other minor depend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span>encies +clustering nearby like chickens about a white hen, +its background the rolling cottonfields, their red soil +glowing salmon-colored in the sun. For, as I was never +so conscious of the brutality of winter as in that evening +snowstorm at Quebec, I was never so conscious, as at +the time of our visit to the Burge plantation, of the +superlative soft sweetness of the spring.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p396jpg" id="p396jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p396.jpg" width="600" height="403" alt="I was never so conscious, as at the time of our visit to the Burge plantation, of the superlative soft sweetness +of the spring" title="" /> +<span class="caption">I was never so conscious, as at the time of our visit to the Burge plantation, of the superlative soft sweetness +of the spring</span> +</div> + +<p>In seasons, as in other things, we have our individual +preferences. Melancholy natures usually love autumn, +with its colorings so like sweet sad minor chords. But +what kind of natures they are which rejoice in spring, +which feel that with each spring the gloomy past is +blotted out, and life, with all its opportunities, begins +anew—what kind of natures they are which recognize +April instead of January as the beginning of their year +I shall not attempt to tell, for mine is such a nature, and +one must not act at once as subject and diagnostician.</p> + +<p>So long as I endure, spring can never come again +without turning my thoughts to northwestern Georgia; +to the peculiar penetrating warmth which passed +through the clothing to the body and made one feel that +one was not surrounded by mere air, but was immersed +in a dry bath of some infinitely superior vapor, a vapor +volatile, soothing, tonic, distilled, it seemed, from the +earth, from pine trees, tulip trees, balm-of-Gilead trees, +(or "bam" trees, as they call them), blossoming Judas +trees, Georgia crabapple, dogwood pink and white, peach +blossom, wistaria, sweet-shrub, dog violets, pansy violets, +Cherokee roses, wild honeysuckle and azalia, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> +evanescent green of new treetops, all carried in solution +in the sunlight. By day the brilliant cardinal adds his +fine note of color and sound, but at night he is silent, +and when the moon comes out one hears the mockingbird +and, it may be also, two whippoorwills, one in the +grove near the house, one in the woods across the road, +calling back and forth. Then one is tempted to step +down from the porch, and follow the voices of the birds +into the vague recesses of a night webbed with dark tree +shadows outlined in blue moonlight.</p> + +<p>Small wonder it is, if, as report says, no houseparty +on a southern plantation is a success unless young +couples become "sort of engaged," and if in a region so +provocative in springtime under a full moon, a distinction +is recognized between being merely "engaged," and +being engaged <i>to be married</i>.</p> + +<p>One Georgia belle we met, a sloe-eyed girl whose reputation +not only for beauty but for charm reached through +the entire South, had, at the time of our visit, recently +become engaged in the more grave and permanent sense.</p> + +<p>"How does it seem?" a girl friend asked her.</p> + +<p>"I feel," she answered, "like a man who has built up a +large business and is about to go into the hands of a receiver."</p> + +<p>Such ways as those girls have! Such voices! Such +eyes! And such names, too! Names which would not +fit at all into a northern setting, relatively so hard and +unsentimental, but which, when one becomes accustomed +to them, take their place gracefully and harmoniously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> +in the southern picture. The South likes diminutives +and combinations in its women's names. Its Harriets, +Franceses, Sarahs, and Marthas, become Hatties, Fannies, +Sallies and Patsies, and Patsy sometimes undergoes +a further transition and becomes Passie. Moreover, +where these diminutives have been passed down +for several generations in a family, their origin is sometimes +lost sight of, and the diminutive becomes the actual +baptismal name. In one family of my acquaintance, for +example, the name Passie has long been handed down +from mother to daughter. The original great-grandmother +Passie was christened Martha but was at first +called Patsy; then, because her black mammy was also +named Patsy, the daughter of the house came to be +known, for purposes of differentiation, as Passie, and +when she married and had a daughter of her own, the +child was christened Passie. In this family the name +May has more recently been adopted as a middle name, +and it is customary for familiars of the youngest Passie, +to address her not merely as Passie, but as Passie-May. +The inclusion of the second name, in this fashion, is another +custom not uncommon in the South. In Atlanta +alone I heard of ladies habitually referred to as Anna-Laura, +Hattie-May, Lollie-Belle, Sally-Maud, Nora-Belle, +Mattie-Sue, Emma-Belle, Lottie-Belle, Susie-May, +Lula-Belle, Sallie-Fannie, Hattie-Fannie, Lou-Ellen, +Allie-Lou, Clara-Belle, Mary-Ella, and Hattie-Belle. +Another young lady was known to her friends as +Jennie-D.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span></p> + +<p>The train from Atlanta set us down at Covington, +Georgia, or rather at the station which lies between the +towns of Covington and Oxford—for when this railroad +was built neither town would allow it a right of +way, and to this day each is connected with the station +by a street car line, either line equipped with one diminutive +car, a pair of disconsolate mules, and a driver. +Covington is the County seat, a quiet southern town, +part old, part new, with a look of rural prosperity about +it. Stopping at the postoffice to inquire for mail we saw +this peremptory sign displayed:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>When the window is down don't bang around and +ask for a stamp or two.</p> + +<p>—<span class="smcap">J. L. Callaway</span>, Postmaster.</p></div> + +<p>As the window was down we tiptoed out and went +upon our way, driving through Oxford before going to +the plantation. This town was named for Oxford, England, +and is, like its namesake, a college town. A small +and very old Methodist educational institution, with a +pretty though ragged campus and fine trees, is all there +is to Oxford, save a row of ante-bellum houses. One +of them, a pleasant white mansion, half concealed by the +huge magnolias which stand in its front yard, was +at one time the residence of General Longstreet. The +old front gate, hanging on a stone post, was made by the +general with his own hands—and well made, for it is to-day +as good a gate as ever. Corra Harris lived at one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> +time in Oxford; her husband, Rev. Lundy H. Harris, +having been a professor at the college.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Though plantation life has necessarily changed since +the war, I do not believe that there is in the whole South +a plantation where it has changed less than on the Burge +plantation. In appearance the place is not as Sherman's +men found it, for they tore down the fences and +ruined the beautiful old-fashioned garden, and neither +has been replaced; nor, of course, is it run, so far as +practical affairs are concerned, as it was before the +War; that is to say, instead of being operated as a +unit of nine-hundred acres, it is now worked chiefly +on shares, and is divided up into "one mule farms" +and "two mule farms," these being tracts of about +thirty and sixty acres, respectively, thirty acres being +approximately the area which can be worked by a man +and a mule.</p> + +<p>Practically all the negroes on the place—perhaps a +hundred in number—are either former slaves of the +Burge family, or the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren +of slaves who lived on the plantation. +That is one reason why the plantation is less changed in +spirit than are many others. The Burges were religious +people, used their slaves kindly, and brought them up +well, so that the negroes on the plantation to-day are respectable, +and in some instances, exemplary people, very +different from the vagrant negro type which has developed +since the War, making labor conditions in some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> +parts of the South uncertain, and plantation life, in some +sections, not safe for unprotected women.</p> + +<p>The present proprietors of the Burge plantation are +two ladies, granddaughters of Mrs. Thomas Burge, who +lived here, a widow, with a little daughter, when General +Sherman and his hosts came by. These ladies frequently +spend months at the plantation without male protectors +save only the good negroes of their own place, +who look after them with the most affectionate devotion. +True, the ladies keep an ugly looking but mild mannered +bulldog, of which the negroes are generally afraid; true +also they carry a revolver when they drive about the +country in their motor, and keep revolvers handy in their +rooms; but these precautions are not taken, they told +me, because of any doubts about the men on their place, +their one fear being of tramp negroes, passing by.</p> + +<p>Of their own negroes several are remarkable, particularly +one old couple, perfect examples of the fine +ante-bellum type so much beloved in the South, and so +much regretted as it disappears.</p> + +<p>During the period of twenty years or more, while the +owners were absent, growing up and receiving their +education, the whole place, indoors and out, was in +charge of Uncle George and Aunt Sidney. The two +lived, and still do live, in one wing of the house—over +which Aunt Sidney presides as housekeeper and +cook, as her mother, Aunt Liddy, did before her. Aunt +Liddy died only a short time ago, aged several years +over a hundred. Uncle George supervises all the busi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span>ness +of the plantation, as he has done for thirty or forty +years. He collects all rents, markets the crops and receives +the payments, makes purchases, pays bills, and +keeps peace between the tenants—nor could any human +being be more honorable or possess a finer, sweeter dignity. +As for devotion, when the little girls who were +away returned after all the years as grown women, every +ribbon, every pin in that house was where it had been +left, and the place was no less neat than if the "white +folks" had constantly remained there.</p> + +<p>Before Georgia went dry it was customary for negroes +of the rougher sort to get drunk in town every Saturday +night. Drunken negroes would consequently be passing +by, all night, on their way to their homes, yelling and +(after the manner of their kind when intoxicated) shooting +their revolvers in the air. Every Saturday night, +when the ladies were at home, Uncle George would +quietly take his gun and place himself on the porch, +remaining there until the last of the obstreperous wayfarers +had passed.</p> + +<p>Uncle Abe and Uncle Wiley are two other worthy and +venerable men who live in cabins on the place. Both +were there when Sherman's army passed upon its devastating +way, and both were carried off, as were thousands +upon thousands of other negroes out of that wide +belt across the State of Georgia, which was overrun +in the course of the March to the Sea.</p> + +<p>"Ah was goin' to mill wid de ox-caht," Uncle Abe +told me, "when de soljas dey kim 'long an' got me. Dey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> +tol' me, 'Heah, nigga! Git out dat caht, an' walk behin'. +When <i>it</i> moves <i>you</i> move; when <i>it</i> stops <i>you</i> +stop!' An' like dat Ah walk all de way to Savannah +[two hundred and fifty miles]. Den, after dat, dey took +us 'long up No'th—me an' ma brotha Wiley, ovah deh."</p> + +<p>I asked him what regiment he went with. He said it +was the Twenty-second Indiana, and that Dr. Joe Stilwell, +of that regiment, who came from a place near Madison, +Indiana ("Ah reckon de town was name Brownstown"), +was good to him. An officer whom he knew, he +said, was Captain John Snodgrass, and another Major +Tom Shay.</p> + +<p>"All Ah was evvuh wo'ied about aftuh dey kim tuck +me," he declared, "was gittin' somep'n t' eat. Dat kinda +put me on de wonduh, sometahmes, but dey used us all +right. Dr. Pegg—him dat did de practice on de plantation +befo' de Wah—he tol' de niggas dat de Yankees +would put gags in deh moufs an' lead 'em eroun' like dey +wuz cattle. But deh wa' n't like dat nohow. I b'longed +to de Secon' Division, Thuhd B'gade, Fou'teenth Co' +[corps]. Cap'n Snodgrass, he got to be lieutenant-cuhnel. +He was de highes' man Ah evuh hel' any convuhsation +wid, but I <i>saw</i> all de gennuls of dat ahmy."</p> + +<p>Uncle Wiley is older than Uncle Abe. He was already +a grown man with three children when taken away +by some of Sherman's men. He told me he was with the +Fifty-second Ohio, and mentioned Captain Shepard.</p> + +<p>The two brothers got as far as Washington, D. C.</p> + +<p>"We got los' togedduh in de U. S. buildin' in dat city,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> +said Uncle Wiley. "De President of de U. S. right at +dat tahme he was daid. He was kill', Ah don' s'pose +it wuz a week befo' we got to Wash'n, D. C."</p> + +<p>"How did you happen to come all the way back?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"Well-l," ruminated the old man, "home was always +a-restin' on mah min'. Ah kep' thinkin' 'bout home. +So aftuh de Wah ceasted Ah jus' kim 'long back."</p> + +<p>Many of the old plantation customs still survive. A +little before noon the bell is rung to summon the hands +from the cotton fields. Over the red plowed soil you +hear a darky cry, a melodious "Oh-<i>oh</i>-oh!" as wild and +musical as the cries of the south-Italian olive gatherers. +The planters cease their work, mules stand still, traces +are unhooked from singletrees, and chain-ends thrown +over the mules' backs; then the men mount the animals +and ride in to the midday meal, the women trudging +after. Those who rent land, or work on shares, go to +their own cabins, while those employed by the hour or +by the day (the rate of pay is ten cents an hour or seventy-five +cents a day) come to the kitchen to be fed. +Nor is it customary to stop there at feeding negroes. +As in the old days, any negro who has come upon an +errand or who has "stopped by" to sell supplies, or for +whatever purpose, expects to stay for "dinner," and +makes it a point to arrive about noon. Thus from +sixteen to twenty negroes are fed daily at the Burge +plantation house.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p400jpg" id="p400jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p400.jpg" width="600" height="365" alt="The planters cease their work" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The planters cease their work</span> +</div> + +<p>The old Christmas traditions are likewise kept up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> +On Christmas day the negroes come flocking up to the +house for their gifts. Their first concern is to attempt +to cry "Christmas gift!" to others, before it can be said +to them—for according to ancient custom the one who +says the words first must have a gift from the other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII<br /> +<br /> +A YOUNG METROPOLIS</h2> + + +<p>An observer approaching a strange city should be +"neutral even in thought." He may listen to +what is said of the city, but he must not permit +his opinions to take form in advance; for, like other +gossip, gossip about cities is unreliable, and the casual +stranger's estimate of cities is not always founded upon +broad appreciations. But though it is unwise to judge +of cities by what is said of them, it is perhaps worth +remarking that one may often judge of men by what they +say of cities.</p> + +<p>I remember an American manufacturer, broken down +by overwork, who, when he looked at Pompeii, could +think only of the wasted possibilities of Vesuvius as a +power plant, and I remember two traveling salesmen +on a southern railroad train who expressed scorn for +the exquisite city of Charleston because—they said—it +is but a poor market place for suspenders and barbers' +supplies. There are those who think of Boston only as +headquarters of the shoe trade, others who think of it +only in the terms of culture, and still others who regard +it solely as an abode of negrophiles.</p> + +<p>In the case of the chief city of Alabama, however, my +companion and I noticed, as we journeyed through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> +South, that reports were singularly in accord. Birmingham +is too young to have any Civil War history. +Her history is the history of the steel industry in the +South, and one hears always of that: of the affluence of +the city when the industry is thriving, and hard times +when it is not. One is invariably told that Birmingham +is not a southern city, but a northern city in the +South, and the chief glories of the place, aside from +steel, are (if one is to believe rumors current upon railroad +trains and elsewhere), a twenty-seven story building, +Senator Oscar Underwood, the distinguished Democratic +leader, and the Tutwiler Hotel. Even in Atlanta +it is conceded that the Tutwiler is a good hotel, and when +Atlanta admits that anything in Birmingham is good it +may be considered as established that the thing is very, +very good—for Birmingham and Atlanta view each +other with the same degree of cordiality as is exchanged +between St. Louis and Kansas City, Minneapolis and St. +Paul, San Francisco and Los Angeles.</p> + +<p>Having been, in the course of our southern wanderings, +in several very bad hotels, and having heard the +Tutwiler compared with Chicago's Blackstone, my companion +and I held eager anticipation of this hostelry. +Nor were our hopes dashed by a first glimpse of the city +on the night of our arrival. It was a modern-looking +city—just the sort of city that would have a fine new +hotel. The railroad station through which we passed +after leaving the train was not the usual dingy little +southern station, but an admirable building, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> +streets along which we presently found ourselves gliding +in an automobile hack, were wide, smooth, and brightly +illuminated by clustered boulevard lights.</p> + +<p>True, we had long since learned not to place +too much reliance upon the nocturnal aspects of +cities. A city seen by night is like a woman dressed for +a ball. Darkness drapes itself about her as a black-velvet +evening gown, setting off, in place of neck and +arms, the softly glowing façades of marble buildings; +lights are her diamond ornaments, and her perfume is +the cool fragrance of night air. Almost all cities, and +almost all women, look their best at night, and there are +those which, though beautiful by night, sink, in their +daylight aspect, to utter mediocrity.</p> + +<p>Presently our motor drew up before the entrance of +the Tutwiler—a proud entrance, all revolving doors and +glitter and promise. A brisk bell boy came running for +our bags. The signs were of the best.</p> + +<p>The lobby, though spacious, was crowded; the decorations +and equipment were of that rich sumptuousness +attained only in the latest and most magnificent American +hotels; there was music, and as we made our way +along we caught a glimpse, in passing, of an attractive +supper room, with small table-lights casting their soft +radiance upon white shirt fronts and the faces of pretty +girls. In all it was a place to make glad the heart of +the weary traveler, and to cause him to wonder whether +his dress suit would be wrinkled when he took it from +his trunk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span></p> + +<p>Behind the imposing marble "desk" stood several impeccable +clerks, and to one of these I addressed myself, +giving our names and mentioning the fact that we had +telegraphed for rooms. I am not sure that this young +man wore a braided cutaway and a white carnation; I +only know that he affected me as hotel clerks in braided +cutaways and white carnations always do. While I +spoke he stood a little way back from the counter, his +chin up, his gaze barely missing the top of my hat, his +nostrils seeming to contract with that expression of +dubiousness assumed by delicate noses which sense, long +before they encounter it, the aroma of unworthiness.</p> + +<p>"Not a room in the house," he said. Then, as though +to forestall further parley, he turned and spoke with +gracious lightness to one of his own rank and occupation +who, at the request of my companion, was ascertaining +whether letters were awaiting us.</p> + +<p>"But we telegraphed two days ago!" I protested desperately.</p> + +<p>"Can't help it. Hardware Convention. Everything +taken."</p> + +<p>Over my shoulder I heard from my companion a +sound, half sigh, half groan, which echoed the cry of +my own heart.</p> + +<p>"I felt this coming!" he murmured. "Didn't you notice +all these people with ribbons on them? There's +never any room in a hotel where everybody's wearing +ribbons. It's like a horse show. They get the ribbons +and we get the gate."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Surely," I faltered, "you can let us have one small +room?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible," he answered brightly. "We've turned +away dozens of people this evening."</p> + +<p>"Then," I said, abandoning hope, "perhaps you will +suggest some other hotel?"</p> + +<p>I once heard a woman, the most perfect parvenu I +ever met, speak of her poor relations in a tone exactly +similar to that in which the clerk now spoke the names +of two hotels. Having spoken, he turned and passed behind +the partition at one end of the marble counter.</p> + +<p>My companion and I stood there for a moment looking +despondently at each other. Then, without a word, we +retreated through that gorgeous lobby, feeling like sad +remnants of a defeated Yankee army.</p> + +<p>Again we motored through the bright streets, but only +to successive disappointments, for both hotels mentioned +by the austere clerk were "turning 'em away." +Our chauffeur now came to our aid, mentioning several +small hotels, and in one of these, the Granada, we were +at last so fortunate as to find lodgings.</p> + +<p>"It begun to look like you'd have to put up at the +Roden," the chauffeur smiled as we took our bags out of +the car and settled with him.</p> + +<p>"The Roden?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he returned "Best ventilated hotel in the +United States."</p> + +<p>Next day when the Hotel Roden was pointed out to +us we appreciated the witticism, for the Roden is—or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> +was at the time of our visit—merely the steel skeleton +of a building which, we were informed, had for some +years stood unfinished owing to disagreements among +those concerned with its construction.</p> + +<p>As for the Granada, though a modest place, it was +new and clean; the clerk was amiable, the beds comfortable, +and if our rooms were too small to admit our +trunks, they were, at all events, outside rooms, each with +a private bath, at a rate of $1 per day apiece. Never +in any hotel have I felt that I was getting so much for +my money.</p> + +<p>Next morning, after breakfast, we set out to see the +city. Having repeatedly heard of Birmingham as the +"Pittsburgh of the South," we expected cold daylight +to reveal the sooty signs of her industrialism, but in this +we were agreeably disappointed. By day as well as by +night the city is pleasing to the eye, and it is a fact +worth noting that the downtown buildings of Atlanta +(which is not an industrial city) are streaked and dirty, +whereas those of Birmingham are clean—the reason for +this being that the mills and furnaces of Birmingham +are far removed from the heart of the town, whereas +locomotives belch black smoke into the very center of +Atlanta's business and shopping district.</p> + +<p>Moreover, the metropolis of Alabama is better laid +out than that of Georgia. The streets of Birmingham +are wide, and the business part of the city, lying upon a +flat terrain, is divided into large, even squares. From +this district the chief residence section mounts by easy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> +graceful grades into the hills to the southward. Because +of these grades, and the curving drives which follow +the contours of the hills, and the vistas of the lower +city, and the good modern houses, and the lawns and +trees and shrubbery and breezes, this Highlands region +is reminiscent of a similar residence district in Portland, +Oregon—which is to say that it is one of the most agreeable +districts of the kind in the United States.</p> + +<p>Well up on the hillside, Highland Avenue winds a +charming course between pleasant homes, with here and +there a little residence park branching off to one side, +and here and there a small municipal park occupying an +angle formed by a sharp turn in the driveway; and if +you follow the street far enough you will presently see +the house of the Birmingham Country Club, standing +upon its green hilltop, amidst rolling, partly wooded golf +links, above the road.</p> + +<p>Nor is the Country Club at the summit of this range +of hills. Back of it rise other roads, the most picturesque +of them being Altamont Road, which runs to +the top of Red Mountain, reaching a height about +equivalent to that of the cornice line of Birmingham's +tallest building. The houses of this region are built on +streets which, like some streets of Portland, are terraced +into the hillside, and the resident of an upper block +can almost look down the chimneys of his neighbors on +the block below. The view commanded from these +mountain perches does not suggest that the lower city +runs up into the Highlands. It seems to be a separate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> +place, down in a distant valley, and the sense of its remoteness +is heightened by the thin veil of gray smoke +which wafts from the tall smokestacks of far-off iron +furnaces, softening the serrated outlines of the city and +wrapping its tall buildings in the industrial equivalent +for autumn haze.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p408jpg" id="p408jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p408.jpg" width="600" height="447" alt="Birmingham—The thin veil of smoke from far-off iron furnaces softens the city's serrated outlines" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Birmingham—The thin veil of smoke from far-off iron furnaces softens the city's serrated outlines</span> +</div> + +<p>At night the scene from the Highlands is even more +spectacular, for at brief intervals the blowing of a converter +in some distant steel plant illuminates the heavens +with a great hot glow, like that which rises and falls +about the crater of a volcano in eruption. Thus the +city's vast affairs are kept before it by day in a pillar of +cloud, and by night in a pillar of fire. Iron and steel +dominate Birmingham's mind, activities and life. The +very ground of Red Mountain is red because of the iron +ore that it contains, and those who reside upon the +charming slopes of this hill do not own their land in fee +simple, but subject always to the mineral rights of mining +companies.</p> + +<p>The only other industry of Birmingham which is to +be compared, in magnitude or efficiency, with the steel +industry is that of "cutting in" at dances. All through +the South it is carried on, but whereas in such cities as +Memphis, New Orleans and Atlanta, men show a little +mercy to the stranger—realizing that, as he is presumably +unacquainted with all the ladies at a dance, he +cannot retaliate in kind—Birmingham is merciless and +prosecutes the pestilential practice unremittingly, even +going so far as to apply the universal-service principle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> +and call out her highschool youths to carry on the work. +Before I went to certain dances in Birmingham I felt +that high-school boys ought to be kept at home at night, +but after attending these dances I realized that such +restriction was altogether inadequate, and that the only +way to deal with them effectively would be to pickle them +in vitriol.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"> +<a name="p424jpg" id="p424jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p424.jpg" width="420" height="448" alt="Birmingham practices unremittingly the pestilential habit of "cutting in" at +dances" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Birmingham practices unremittingly the pestilential habit of "cutting in" at +dances</span> +</div> + +<p>Where, in other cities of the South, I have managed +to dance as much as half a dance without interruption, I +never danced more than twenty feet with one partner in +Birmingham. Nor did my companion.</p> + +<p>Our host was energetic in presenting us to ladies of +infinite pulchritude and State-wide terpsichorean reputation, +but we would start to tread a measure with them, +only to have them swiftly snatched from us by some +spindle-necked, long-wristed, big-boned, bowl-eared +high-school youth, in a dinner suit which used to fit him +when it was new, six months ago.</p> + +<p>As we would start to dance the lady would say:</p> + +<p>"You-all ah strangehs, ahn't you?"</p> + +<p>We would reply that we were.</p> + +<p>"Wheh do you come from?"</p> + +<p>"New York."</p> + +<p>Then, because the Hardware Convention was being +held in town at the time, she would continue:</p> + +<p>"Ah reckon you-all ah hahdware men?"</p> + +<p>But that was as far as the conversation ever got. +Just about the time that she began to reckon we were +hardware men a mandatory hand would be laid upon us,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> +and before we had time to defend ourselves against the +hardware charge, the lady would be wafted off in the +arms of some predatory youth who ought to have been at +home considering <i>pons asinorum</i>.</p> + +<p>Had we indeed been hardware men, and had we had +our hardware with us, they could have done with fewer +teachers in the high schools of that city after the night +of our first dance in Birmingham.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Up in the hills, some miles back of the Country Club, +on the banks of a large artificial lake, stands the new +clubhouse of the Birmingham Motor and Country Club, +and around the lake runs the club's two-and-a-half-mile +speedway. Elsewhere is the Roebuck Golf Club, the +links of which are admitted ("even in Atlanta!") to be +excellent—the one possible objection to the course of the +Birmingham Country Club being that it is suited only +to play with irons.</p> + +<p>I mention these golfing matters not because they interest +me, but because they may interest you. I am not +a golfer. I played the game for two seasons; then I +decided to try to lead a better life. The first time I +played I did quite well, but thence onward my game +declined until, toward the last, crowds would collect to +hear me play. When I determined to abandon the game +I did not burn my clubs or break them up, according to +the usual custom, but instead gave them to a man upon +whom I wished to retaliate because his dog had bitten +a member of my family.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span></p> + +<p>Small wonder that all golf clubs have extensive bars! +It is not hard to understand why men who realize that +they have become incurable victims of the insidious habit +of golf should wish to drown the thought in drink. But +in Birmingham they can't do it—not, at least, at bars. +Alabama has beaten her public bars into soda fountains +and quick-lunch rooms, and though her club bars +still look like real ones, the drinks served are so soft that +no splash occurs when reminiscent tears drop into them.</p> + +<p>When we were in Alabama each citizen who so desired +was allowed by law to import from outside the +State a small allotment of strong drink for personal use, +but the red tape involved in this procedure had already +discouraged all but the most ardent drinkers, and +those found it next to impossible, even by hoarding their +"lonesome quarts," and pooling supplies with their convivial +friends, to provide sufficient alcoholic drink for +a "real party."</p> + +<p>We met in Birmingham but one gentleman whose +cellars seemed to be well stocked, and the tales of ingenuity +and exertion by which he managed to secure +ample supplies of liquor were such as to lead us to believe +that this matter had become, with him, an occupation +to which all other business must give second place.</p> + +<p>It was this gentleman who told us that, since the State +went dry, the ancient form, "R. S. V. P.," on social invitations, +had been revised to "B. W. H. P.," signifying, +"bring whisky in hip pocket."</p> + +<p>To the "B. W. H. P." habit he himself strictly ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span>hered. +One night, when we chanced to meet him in a +downtown club, he drew a flask from a hip pocket, and +invited us to "have something."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked my companion.</p> + +<p>"Scotch."</p> + +<p>When my companion had helped himself he passed +the flask to me, but I returned it to the owner, explaining +that I did not drink Scotch whisky.</p> + +<p>"What do you drink?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Bourbon."</p> + +<p>"Here it is," he returned, drawing a second flask from +the other hip pocket.</p> + +<p>How well, too, do I remember the long, delightful +evening upon which my companion and I sat in an Atlanta +club with a group of the older members, the week +before Georgia went bone dry. There, as in Alabama +before 1915, there had been pretended prohibition, but +now the bars of leading clubs were being closed, and +convivial men were looking into the future with despair. +One of the gentlemen was a justice of the Supreme +Court of the State, and I remember his wistful +declaration that prohibition would fall hardest upon the +older men.</p> + +<p>"When a man is young," he said, "he can be lively and +enjoy himself without drinking, because he is full of animal +spirits. But we older men aren't bubbling over +with liveliness. We can't dance, or don't want to, and +we lack the stimulus which comes of falling continually +in love. My great pleasure is to sit of an evening, here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> +at a table in the café of this club, conversing with my +friends. That is where prohibition is going to hurt me. +I shall not see my old friends any more."</p> + +<p>The others protested at this somber view, but the +judge gravely shook his head, saying: "You don't believe +me, but I know whereof I speak, for I have been +through something like this, in a minor way, before. +A good many years ago I was one of a little group of +congenial men to organize a small club. We had comfortable +quarters, and we used to drop in at night, much +as we have been doing of late years here, and have the +kind of talks that are tonic to the soul. Of course we +had liquor in the club, but there came a time when, for +some reason or other—I think it was some trouble over +a license—we closed our bar. We didn't think it was +going to make a great difference, but it did. The men +began to stop coming in, and before long the club ceased +to exist.</p> + +<p>"It won't be like that here. This club will go on. +But we won't come here. We won't want to sit around +a table, like this, and drink ginger ale and sarsaparilla; +and even if we do, the talk won't be so good. The thing +that makes me downcast is not that liquor is going, but +that we are really parting this week.</p> + +<p>"Every one knows that the abuse of drink does harm +in the world, but these pious prohibitionists are not of the +temperament to understand how alcohol ministers to the +esthetic side of certain natures. It gives us better companions +and makes us better companions for others. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> +stimulates our minds, enhances our appreciations, sharpens +our wit, loosens our tongues, and saves brilliant +conversation from becoming a lost art."</p> + +<p>My sympathies went out to the judge. It has always +seemed to me a pity that the liquor question has resolved +itself into a fight between extremists—for I think the +wine and beer people might survive if they were not tied +up with the distillers, and I do not believe that any considerable +evil comes of drinking wine or beer.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless it must be apparent to every one who +troubles to investigate, that prohibition invariably works +great good wherever it is made effective. Take, for +example, Birmingham.</p> + +<p>There was one year—I believe it was 1912—when +there was an average of more than one murder a day, +for every working day in the year, in the county in +which Birmingham is located. On one famous Saturday +night there were nineteen felonious assaults (sixteen +by negroes and three by whites), from which about +a dozen deaths resulted, two of those killed having been +policemen.</p> + +<p>All this has changed with prohibition. Killings are +now comparatively rare, arrests have diminished to less +than a third of the former average, whether for grave +or petty offenses, and the receiving jail, which was formerly +packed like a pigpen every Saturday night, now +stands almost empty, while the city jail, which used +continually to house from 120 to 150 offenders, has +diminished its average population to 30 or 35.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII<br /> +<br /> +BUSY BIRMINGHAM</h2> + + +<p>The fact that a man may shut off his motor and +coast downhill from his home to his office in +the lower part of Birmingham, is not without +symbolism. Birmingham is all business. If I were to +personify the place, it would be in the likeness of a man +I know—a big, powerful fellow with an honest blue +eye and an expression in which self-confidence, ambition, +and power are blended. Like Birmingham, this +man is a little more than forty years of age. Like Birmingham, +he has built up a large business of his own. +And, like Birmingham, he is a little bit naïve in his pride +of success. His life is divided between his office and +his home, and it would be difficult to say for which his +devotion is the greater. He talks business with his wife +at breakfast and dinner, and on their Sunday walks. +He brings his papers home at night and goes over them +with her, for, though her specialty is bringing up the +children, she is deeply interested in his business and +often makes suggestions which he follows. This causes +him to admire her intensely, which he would not necessarily +do were she merely a good wife and mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span></p> + +<p>He has no hobbies or pastimes. True, he plays golf, +but with him golf is not a diversion. He plays because +he finds the exercise increases his efficiency ("efficiency" +is perhaps his favorite word), and because many of his +commercial associates are golfers, and he can talk business +with them on the links.</p> + +<p>His house is pleasant and stands upon a good-sized +city lot. It is filled with very shiny mahogany furniture +and strong-colored portières and sofa cushions. It is +rather more of a house than he requires, for his tastes +are simple, but he has a feeling that he ought to have a +large house, for the same reason that he and his wife +ought to dress expensively—that is, out of respect, as it +were, to his business.</p> + +<p>One of his chief treasures is an automatic piano, +upon which he rolls off selections from Wagner's operas. +He likes the music of the great German because, as he +has often told me, it stirs his imagination, thereby helping +him to solve business problems and make business +plans.</p> + +<p>The thing he most abhors is general conversation, and +he is never so amusing—so pathetically and unconsciously +amusing—as when trying to take part in general +conversation and at the same time to conceal the +writhings of his tortured spirit. There is but one thing +which will drive him to attempt the feat, and that is the +necessity of making himself agreeable to some man, or +the wife of some man, from whom he wishes to get business.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span></p> + +<p>The census of 1910 gave Birmingham a population of +132,000, and it is estimated that since that time the population +has increased by 50,000. Birmingham not only +knows that it is growing, but believes in trying to make +ready in advance for future growth. It gives one the +impression that it is rather ahead of its housing problems +than behind them. Its area, for instance, is about +as great as that of Boston or Cleveland, and its hotels +may be compared with the hotels of those cities. If it +has not so many clubs as Atlanta, it has, at least, all the +clubs it needs; and if it has not so many skyscrapers as +New York, it has several which would fit nicely into the +Wall Street district. Moreover, the tall buildings of +Birmingham lose nothing in height by contrast with the +older buildings, three or four stories high, which surround +them, giving the business district something of +that look which hangs about a boy who has outgrown +his clothing. Nor are the vehicles and street crowds, altogether +in consonance, as yet, with the fine office buildings +of the city, for many of the motors standing at the +curb have about them that gray, rural look which comes +of much mud and infrequent washing, and the idlers +who lean against the rich façades of granite and marble +are entirely out of the picture, for they look precisely +like the idlers who lean against the wooden posts of +country railroad station platforms.</p> + +<p>Such curious contrasts as these may be noted everywhere. +For instance, Birmingham has been so busy +paving the streets that it seems quite to have forgotten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> +to put up street signs. Also, not far from the majestic +Tutwiler Hotel, and the imposing apartment building +called the Ridgely, the front of which occupies a full +block, is a park so ill kept that it would be a disgrace +to the city but for the obvious fact that the city is growing +and wide-awake, and will, of course, attend to the +park when it can find the time. Here are, I believe, the +only public monuments Birmingham contains. One is +a Confederate monument in the form of an obelisk, and +the other two are statues erected in memory of Mary +A. Cahalan, for many years principal of the Powell +School, and of William Elias B. Davis, a distinguished +surgeon. Workers in these fields are too seldom honored +in this way, and the spirit which prompted the +erection of these monuments is particularly creditable; +sad to say, however, both effigies are wretchedly placed +and are in themselves exceedingly poor things. Art is +something, indeed, about which Birmingham has much +to learn. So far as I could discover, no such thing as an +art museum has been contemplated. But here again the +critic should remember that, whereas art is old, Birmingham +is young. She is as yet in the stage of development +at which cities think not of art museums, but of +municipal auditoriums; and with the latter subject, at +least, she is now concerning herself.</p> + +<p>Even in the city's political life contrasts are not wanting, +for though the town is Republican in sentiment, it +proves itself southern by voting the Democratic ticket, +and it is interesting to note further that the commission<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> +by which it is governed had as one of its five members, +when we were there, a Socialist.</p> + +<p>Another curious and individual touch is contributed +by the soda-fountain lunch rooms which abound in the +city, and which, I judge, arrived with the disappearance +of barroom lunch counters. In connection with +many of the downtown soda fountains there are cooking +arrangements, and business lunches are served.</p> + +<p>The roads leading out of the city in various directions +have many dangerous grade crossings, and accidents +must be of common occurrence. At all events, I +have never known a city in which cemeteries and undertaking +establishments were so widely advertised. In +the street cars, for instance, I observed the cheerful +placards of one Wallace Johns, undertaker, who +promises "all the attention you would expect from a +friend," and I was informed that Mr. Johns possesses +business cards (for restricted use only) bearing the gay +legend: "I'll get you yet!"</p> + +<p>As to schools the city is well off. Dr. J. H. +Phillips, superintendent of public schools, has occupied +his post probably as long as any school superintendent in +the country. He organized the city school system in +1883, beginning with seven teachers, as against 750 now +employed. The colored schools are reported to be better +than in most southern cities.</p> + +<p>Of the general status of the negro in Birmingham +I cannot speak with authority. As in Atlanta, negroes +are sometimes required to use separate elevators in of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span>fice +buildings, and, as everywhere south of Washington, +the Birmingham street cars give one end to whites +and the other to negroes. But whereas negroes use +the back of the car in Atlanta, they use the front in +Birmingham. It was attempted, at one time, to reverse +this order, for reasons having to do with draft and +ventilation, but the people of Birmingham had become +accustomed to the existing arrangement and objected +to the change. "After all," one gentleman said to me, +in speaking of this matter, "it is not important which +end of the car is given to the nigger. The main point is +that he must sit where he is told."</p> + +<p>The means by which the negro vote is eliminated in +various Southern States are generally similar, though +Alabama has, perhaps, been more thorough in the matter +than some other States. The importance of this +issue to the southern white man is very great, for if all +negroes were allowed to vote the control of certain +States would be in negro hands. To the Southerner +such an idea is intolerable, and it is my confident belief +that if the State of Alabama were resettled by men +from Massachusetts, and the same problems were presented +to those men, they would be just as quick as the +white Alabamans of to-day to find means to suppress +the negro vote. With all my heart I wish that such +an exchange of citizens might temporarily be effected, +for when the immigrants from Massachusetts moved +back to their native New England, after an experience +of the black belt, they would take with them an under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span>standing +of certain aspects of the negro problem +which they have never understood; an understanding +which, had they possessed it sixty or seventy years ago, +might have brought about the freeing of slaves by government +purchase—a course which Lincoln advocated +and which would probably have prevented +the Civil War, and thereby saved millions upon +millions of money, to say nothing of countless +lives. Had they even understood the problems of the +South at the end of the Civil War, the horrors of Reconstruction +might have been avoided, and I cannot too +often reiterate that, but for Reconstruction we should +not be perplexed, to-day, by the unhappy, soggy mass +of political inertia known as the Solid South.</p> + +<p>I asked a former State official how the negro vote +had been eliminated in Alabama. "At first," he said, +"we used to kill them to keep them from voting; when +we got sick of doing that we began to steal their ballots; +and when stealing their ballots got to troubling our +consciences we decided to handle the matter legally, fixing +it so they couldn't vote."</p> + +<p>I inquired as to details. He explained.</p> + +<p>It seems that in 1901 a constitutional convention +was held, at which it was enacted that, in order to be +eligible for life to vote, citizens must register during +the next two years. There were, however, certain qualifications +prescribed for registration. A man must be +of good character, and must have fought in a war, or +be the descendant of a person who had fought. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> +enactment, known as the "grandfather clause," went +far toward the elimination of the negro. As an additional +safeguard, however, an educational clause was +added, but the educational requirement did not become +effective at once, as that would have made illiterate +whites ineligible as voters. Not until the latter were +safely registered under the "grandfather clause," was +the educational clause applied, and as, under this clause, +the would-be voter must read and write <i>to the satisfaction +of his examiner</i>, the negro's chance to get suffrage +was still more reduced.</p> + +<p>The United States Supreme Court has, I believe, held +that the educational clause does not constitute race discrimination.</p> + +<p>As though the above measures were not sufficient, it +is further required that, in order to vote at November +elections in Alabama, voters must pay a small voluntary +poll tax. This tax, however, must be paid each +year before February first—that is, about nine months +before elections actually take place. The negro has +never been distinguished for his foresightedness with a +dollar, and, to make matters harder for him, this tax is +cumulative from the year 1901, so that a man who +wishes to begin to vote this year, and can qualify in +other respects, must pay a tax amounting to nearly +twenty dollars.</p> + +<p>These measures give Alabama, as my informant put +it, a "very exclusive electorate." With a population +of approximately two millions, the greatest number of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> +votes ever cast by the State was 125,000. Of this number, +531 votes were those of negroes, "representing" a +colored population of 840,000!</p> + +<p>The gentleman who explained these matters also told +me a story illustrative of the old-time Southerner's attitude +toward the negro in politics.</p> + +<p>During Reconstruction, when Alabama's Legislature +was about one-third white and two-thirds negro, a fine +old gentleman who had been a slaveholder and was an +experienced parliamentarian, was attempting to preside +over the Legislature. In this he experienced much difficulty, +his greatest <i>bête noir</i> being a negro member, +full of oratory, who continually interrupted other speakers.</p> + +<p>Realizing that this was a part of the new order of +things, the presiding officer tried not to allow his irritation +to get the better of him, and to silence the objectionable +man in parliamentary fashion. "The member +will kindly come to order!" he repeated over and over, +rapping with his gavel. "The member will kindly come +to order!"</p> + +<p>After this had gone on for some time without effect, +the old gentleman's patience became exhausted. He +laid down his gavel, arose to his feet, glared at the irrepressible +member, and, shaking his finger savagely, +shouted: "Sit down, you blankety-blank black blankety-blank!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon the negro dropped instantly to his seat +and was no more heard from.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX<br /> +<br /> +AN ALLEGORY OF ACHIEVEMENT</h2> + + +<p>To visit Birmingham without seeing an iron and +steel plant would be like visiting Rome without +seeing the Forum. Consequently my companion +and I made application for permission to go through +the Tennessee Coal, Iron, & Railroad Company's +plant, at Ensley, on the outskirts of the city. When +the permission was refused us we attacked from another +angle—using influence—and were refused again. +Next we called upon a high official of the company, and +(as we had, of course, done in making our previous requests +for admission to the plant) explained our errand.</p> + +<p>Though this gentleman received us with the utmost +courtesy, he declared that the company desired no publicity, +and plainly indicated that he was not disposed to +let us into the plant.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what the trouble is," said my companion +to me. "This company is a part of the United +States Steel Corporation, and in the old muckraking +days it was thoroughly raked. They think that we have +come down here full of passionate feeling over the poor, +downtrodden workingman and the great, greedy octopus."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, we are a writer and an artist. Lots of writers +and artists have made good livings by teaching magazine +readers that it is dishonest for a corporation, or a +corporation official, to prosper; that the way to integrity +is through insolvency; that the word 'company' is a +term of reproach, while 'corporation' is a foul epithet, +and 'trust' blasphemy."</p> + +<p>"What shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"We must make it clear to these people," he said, +"that we have no mission. We must satisfy them that +we are not reformers—that we didn't come to dig out a +red-hot story, but to see red-hot rails rolled out."</p> + +<p>Pursuing this course, we were successful. All that +any official of the company required of us was that we +be open-minded. The position of the company, when +we came to understand it, was simply that it did not wish +to facilitate the work of men who came down with pencils, +paper, and preconceived "views," deliberately to +play the great American game of "swat the corporation."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Surely there is not in the world an industry which, +for sheer pictorial magnificence, rivals the modern +manufacturing of steel. In the first place, the scale of +everything is inexpressibly stupendous. To speak of a +row of six blast furnaces, with mouths a hundred feet +above the ground, and chimneys rising perhaps another +hundred feet above these mouths, is not, perhaps, impressive, +but to look at such a row of furnaces, to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> +their fodder of ore, dolomite, and coke brought in by +train loads; to see it fed to them by the "skip"; to hear +them roar continually for more; to feel the savage heat +generated within their bodies; to be told in shouts, above +the din, something of what is going on inside these +vast, voracious, savage monsters, and to see them dripping +their white-hot blood when they are picked by a +long steel bar in the hands of an atom of a man—this +is to witness an almost terrifying allegory of mankind's +achievement.</p> + +<p>The gas generated by blast furnaces is used in part in +the hot-blast stoves—gigantic tanks from which hot air, +at very high pressure, is admitted to the furnaces themselves, +and is also used to develop steam for the blowing +engines and other auxiliaries. In the furnaces the +molten iron, because of its greater specific gravity, settles +to the bottom, while the slag floats to the top. The +slag, by the way, is not, as I had supposed, altogether +worthless, but is used for railroad ballast and in the +manufacture of cement.</p> + +<p>The molten iron drawn from the blast furnaces runs +in glittering rivulets (which, at a distance of twenty +or thirty feet, burn the face and the eyes), into ladle cars +which are like a string of devils' soup bowls, mounted +on railroad trucks ready to be hauled away by a locomotive +and served at a banquet in hell.</p> + +<p>That is not what happens to them, however. The +locomotive takes them to another part of the plant, and +their contents, still molten, is poured into the mixers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> +These are gigantic caldrons as high as houses, which +stand in rows in an open-sided steel shed, and the chief +purpose of them is to keep the "soup" hot until it is +required for the converters—when it is again poured off +into ladle cars and drawn away.</p> + +<p>The converters are in still another part of the +grounds. They are huge, pear-shaped retorts, resembling +in their action those teakettles which hang on +stands and are poured by being tilted. But a million +teakettles could be lost in one converter, and the boiling +water from a million teakettles, poured into a converter, +would be as one single drop of ice water let fall into a +red-hot stove.</p> + +<p>In the converters the metalloids—silicon, manganese, +and carbon—are burned out of the iron under a flaming +heat which, by means of high air pressure, is brought +to a temperature of about 3400 degrees. It is the blowing +of these converters, and the occasional pouring of +them, which throws the Vesuvian glow upon the skies +of Birmingham at night. The heat they give off is beyond +description. Several hundred feet away you feel +it smiting viciously upon your face, and the concrete +flooring of the huge shed in which they stand is so hot as +to burn your feet through the soles of your shoes.</p> + +<p>The most elaborate display of fireworks ever devised +by Mr. Pain would be but a poor thing compared with +the spectacle presented when a converter is poured. +The whole world glows with golden heat, and is filled +with an explosion of brilliant sparks, and as the molten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> +metal passes out into the sunlight that light is by contrast +so feeble that it seems almost to cast a shadow +over the white-hot vats of iron.</p> + +<p>Next come the tilting open-hearth furnaces, where the +iron is subjected to the action of lime at a very high +temperature. This removes the phosphorus and leaves +a bath of commercially pure iron which is then "teemed" +into a hundred-ton ladle, wherein it is treated in such +a way as to give it the properties required in the finished +steel. What these properties may be, depends, of +course, upon the purpose to which the steel is to be put. +Rails, for example, must, above all, resist abrasion, and +consequently have a higher carbon content than, say, +reinforcing bars for concrete work. To obtain various +qualities in steel are added carbon, ferro-manganese, or +ferro-silicon in proportions differing according to requirements.</p> + +<p>In the next process steel ingots are made. I lost track +of the exact detail of this, but I remember seeing the +ingots riding about in their own steel cars, turning to +an orange color as they cooled, and I remember seeing +them pounded by a hammer that stood up in the air +like an elevated railroad station, and I know that pretty +soon they got into the blooming mill and were rolled +out into "blooms," after which they were handled by a +huge contrivance like a thumb and forefinger of steel +which—though the blooms weigh five tons apiece—picked +them up much as you might pick up a stick of red +candy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span></p> + +<p>Still orange-hot, the blooms find their way to the rolling +mill, where they go dashing back and forth upon +rollers and between rollers—the latter working in pairs +like the rollers of large wringers, squeezing the blooms, +in their successive passages, to greater length and +greater thinness, until at last they take the form of long, +red, glowing rails; after which they are sawed off, to the +accompaniment of a spray of white sparks, into rail +lengths, and run outside to cool. And I may add that, +while there is more brilliant heat to be seen in many +other departments of the plant, there is no department +in which the color is more beautiful than in the piles +of rails on the cooling beds—some of them still red as +they come from the rollers, others shading off to rose +and pink, and finally to their normal cold steel-gray.</p> + +<p>Presently along comes a great electromagnet; from +somewhere in the sky it drops down and touches the +rails; when it rises bunches of them rise with it, and, +after sailing through the air, are gently deposited upon +flat cars. Here, even after the current is shut off, some +of them may try to stick to the magnet, as though fearing +to go forth into the world. If so, it gives them a little +shake, whereupon they let go, and it travels back to get +more rails and load them on the cars.</p> + +<p>Iron ore, coal, and limestone, the three chief materials +used in the making of steel, are all found in the hills +in the immediate vicinity of Birmingham. I am told +that there is no other place in the world where the three +exist so close together. That is an impressive fact, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> +one grows so accustomed to impressive facts, while passing +through this plant, that one ceases to be impressed, +becoming merely dazed.</p> + +<p>If I were asked to mention one especially striking +item out of all that welter, I should think of many things—things +having to do with vastness, with gigantic movements +and mutations, with Niagara-like noises, with +great bursts of flame suggesting fallen fragments from +the sun itself—but above all I think that I should speak +of the apparent absence of men.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p437jpg" id="p437jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p437.jpg" width="600" height="419" alt="Gigantic movements and mutations, Niagara-like noises, great bursts of flame like fallen fragments from the sun" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Gigantic movements and mutations, Niagara-like noises, great bursts of flame like fallen fragments from the sun</span> +</div> + +<p>There were some four thousand men in the plant, I +believe, at the time we were there, but excepting when +a shift changed, and a great army passed out through +the gates, we never saw a crowd; indeed I hardly think +we saw a group of any size. Here and there two or +three men would be doing something—something which, +probably, we did not understand; in the window of a +locomotive cab, or that of a traveling crane, we would +see a man; we kept passing men as we went along; and +sometimes as we looked from a high perch over the interior +of one of the great sheds, we would be vaguely +conscious of men scattered about the place. But they +were very small and gray and inconspicuous dots upon +the surface of great things going on—going on, seemingly +by themselves, with a sort of mad, mechanical, majestic, +molten sweep.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At this time, when the great efficient organization +started by Bismarck is being devoted entirely to destruc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span>tion, +it is interesting to recall that the idea of industrial +welfare work originated in Germany during the +period of Bismarckian reorganization. So, paradoxically, +the very forces which, on one hand, were building +towards the new records for the extinction of life established +in the present war, were, upon the other hand, +developing plans for the safeguarding of life and for +making it worth living—plans which have enormously +affected the industrial existence of the civilized world.</p> + +<p>The broad theory of industrial welfare work was +brought to this country by engineers, chemists, and +workmen who had resided in Germany; but, where this +work developed over there along coöperative lines, it has +remained for Great Britain and the United States to +work it out in a more individualistic way.</p> + +<p>In this country welfare work has come as a logical +part of the general industrial development. The first +step in this development was the assembling of small, +weak industrial units into large, powerful, effective units—that +is to say, the formation of great corporations +and trusts. The second step was the coördination of +these great industrial alliances for "efficiency." The +third step was the achievement of material success.</p> + +<p>When our great corporations were in their formative +period, effort was concentrated on making them successful, +but with success came thoughts of other things. It +began to be seen, for example, that whereas the old +small employer of labor came into personal contact with +his handful of workmen, and could himself supervise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> +their welfare, some plan must now be devised for doing +this work in a large, corporate way.</p> + +<p>Thus welfare work developed in the United States, +and it is interesting to observe, now, that many of our +great corporations are finding time and funds to expend +upon purely æsthetic improvements, and that, in +the construction of the most modern American industrial +plants, architects, landscape gardeners, and engineering +men work in coöperation, so that, instead of being +lopsided, the developments are harmonious and +oftentimes beautiful.</p> + +<p>On work calculated to prevent accidents in mines, not +only the Tennessee Coal, Iron, & Railroad Company, +but all the leading mining companies in the State join +for conference. As a result the number of accidents +steadily decreases. Nine years ago one man was killed, +on an average, for every 100,000 tons of iron ore raised. +The record at the time of our visit was one man to 450,000 +tons. In the coal mines, where nine years ago one +man was killed for every 75,000 tons raised, the recent +record is one man for 650,000 tons.</p> + +<p>In 1914, 126 men were killed in the coal mines of Alabama. +In 1915, though the tonnage was about the +same, this number was reduced to 63, which was a +record. All this is the result of safety work.</p> + +<p>"Aside from humane considerations," said an official +of the Tennessee Company, "this concern realizes that +the man is the most valuable machine it has."</p> + +<p>This gentleman was one of the ablest men we met<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> +in the South. While taking us through the company's +plant, and explaining to us the various operations, he +was interesting, but the real enthusiasm of the man did +not crop out until he took us to the company's villages +and showed us what was being done for the benefit of +operatives and their families, and, of course, for the +benefit of the company as well—for he was a corporation +official of the modern school, and he knew that by +benefiting its men a corporation necessarily benefits itself.</p> + +<p>The story of the Tennessee Company's work among +its employees, which began about five years ago, some +time after the company was taken over by the United +States Steel Corporation, is too great to be more than +touched on here. In the department of health thirty-six +doctors, sixteen nurses, and a squad of sanitary inspectors +are employed. The department of social science +covers education, welfare, and horticulture. To +me the work of these departments was a revelation. +Each camp has a first-rate hospital, each has its schools +and guildhall, and everything is run as only an efficiently +managed corporation can run things.</p> + +<p>The Docena Village is less like one's idea of a coal +"camp" than of a pretty suburban development, or a +military post, with officers' houses built around a parade. +The grounds are well kept; there is a tennis +court with vine-clad trellises about it, a fine playground +for children, pretty brick walks, with splendid trees to +shade them; and there is a brick schoolhouse which is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> +better building, better equipped, better lighted, and, +above all, better ventilated than the schools I attended in +my boyhood.</p> + +<p>Near the school is the guildhall, which is used for religious +services, meetings, and entertainments. And +best of all, perhaps, the houses are not the rows +of sad, unpainted cabins one remembers having seen +in western mining camps, but are pretty cottages, +touched with a slight architectural variety, and with +little variations of color, so that each home has individuality.</p> + +<p>The schools are financed partly by the company and +partly by the parents of the three thousand scholars. +The teachers are, for the most part, graduates of leading +colleges—Smith, Wellesley, Vassar, the University +of Chicago, the University of Wisconsin—and educational +work of great variety is carried on, including +instruction in English for foreign employees, and domestic-science +classes for women—separate establishments, +of course, for whites and blacks, for the color line is +drawn in southern mining camps as elsewhere. Negroes +are, however, better provided for by the corporation +than by most southern municipalities, both in the +way of living conditions and of education.</p> + +<p>On the whole, I believe that a child who grows up in +the Docena Village, and is educated there, has actually +a better chance than one who grows up in most Alabama +towns, or, for the matter of that, in towns in +any other State which has not compulsory education.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> +Moreover, I doubt that there is in all Alabama another +kindergarten as truly charming as the one we visited at +Docena, or that there is, in the State, a schoolhouse of +the same size which is as perfect as the one we saw in +that camp.</p> + +<p>In another camp old houses have been remodeled, giving +practical demonstration of what can be done in the +way of making a hovel into a pretty home by the intelligent +use of a little lattice-work, a little paint, and a +few vines and flowers. Old boarding-houses in this +neighborhood have been converted into community +houses, with entertainment halls, shower baths, and +other conveniences for the men and their families. +Thus tests are being made to discover whether it is possible +to encourage among certain classes of foreign laborers, +whose habits of life have not, to put it mildly, +been of the tidiest, some appreciation of the standard +of civilization represented by clean, pretty cottages, +pleasant meeting houses, and shower baths.</p> + +<p>I have not told about the billiard tables, bowling alleys, +and game rooms of the clubs, nor about the model +rooms fitted up to show housewives how they may make +their homes attractive at but slight expense, nor about +the annual medical examination of the children, nor +about the company dentists who charge their patients +only for the cost of gold actually used, nor about the +fine company store at Edgewater Mine, nor about the +excellent meats supplied by the company butchers, nor +about the low prices of supplies, nor about the effort to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> +discourage employees from buying cheap furniture at +high prices on the installment plan, nor, above all, about +the clean, decent, happy look of the families we chanced +to see.</p> + +<p>Even had I the space in which to tell of these things, +it is perhaps wiser that I refrain from doing so. For +I am aware that in speaking anything but ill of a great +corporation I have scandalously outraged precedent. +Nor does it argue well for my powers of observation, +or those of my companion. I feel confident that where +our limited visions perceived only prosperity and contentment, +certain of my brother writers, and his brother +illustrators would, in our places, have rent the thin, vaporish +veil of apparent corporate kindliness, and found +such foul shame, such hideous malignity, such grasping, +grubby greed, such despicable soul-destroying despotism, +as to shock the simple nature of a chief of the old-time +Russian Secret Police.</p> + +<p>It shames me to think what my friend Lincoln Steffens +could have done had he but enjoyed my opportunities. +It shames me to think what John Reed or other +gifted writers for "The Masses" could have done. +And I should think that Wallace Morgan would +writhe with shame. For, where Art Young would have +seen heavy-jowled, pig-eyed Capital, in a silk hat and +a checked suit, whirling a cruel knout over the broad +and noble (but bent and shuddering) back of Labor—where +Boardman Robinson would have found a mother, +her white, drawn face half hidden by the shoddy shawl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span> +of black, to which cling the hands of her emaciated +brood—what has Wallace Morgan seen?</p> + +<p>A steel-plant in operation. A company steel-plant! +A <i>corporation</i> steel-plant! A <span class="smcap">trust</span> steel-plant.</p> + +<p>Yet never so much as a starving cat or a pile of garbage +in the foreground!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL<br /> +<br /> +THE ROAD TO ARCADY</h2> + + +<p>Before we saw the train which was to take us +from Birmingham to Columbus, Mississippi, we +began to sense its quality. When we attempted +to purchase parlor car seats of the ticket agent at the +Union Station and were informed by him that our train +carried no parlor car, it seemed to us that his manner +was touched with cynicism, and this impression was confirmed +by his reply to our further timid inquiry as to a +dining car:</p> + +<p>"Where do you gentlemen reckon you're a-goin' to, +anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Presently we passed through the gate and better +understood the nature of the ticket agent's thoughts. +The train consisted of several untidy day coaches, the +first a Jim Crow car, the others for white people. +The negro car was already so full that many of its occupants +had to stand in the aisle, but this did not seem +to trouble them, for all were gabbling happily, and the +impression one got, in glancing through the door, was +of many sets of handsome white teeth displayed in as +many dark grinning faces. There are innumerable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span> +things for which we cannot envy the negro, but neither +his teeth nor his good nature are among them.</p> + +<p>It was Saturday afternoon, and the two or three other +cars, though not overcrowded, were well filled with +people from the neighboring mining towns who were +going home after having spent the morning shopping in +the city. Almost all our fellow passengers carried +packages, many had infants with them, and we were +struck with the fact that the complexions of these people +suggested a diet of pie—fried pie, if there be +such a thing—that a peculiarly high percentage of +them suffered from diseases of the eye, and that the pervading +smell of the car in which we sat was of oranges, +bananas, babies, and overheated adults.</p> + +<p>A young mother in the seat in front of us had with +her three small children, the youngest an infant in arms. +She was feeding a banana to the second child, who +looked about two years old. Behind us a clean, capable-looking +woman talked in a broad Scottish dialect with +another housewife whose jargon was that of the mountaineers.</p> + +<p>The region through which the train presently began +to wind its way was green and hilly, and there were +many stops at villages, all of them mining camps apparently, +made up of shabby little cabins scattered helter-skelter +upon the hillsides. In many of the cabin +doorways mothers lingered with their broods watching +the train, and on all the station platforms stood crowds +of idlers—men, women, and children, negro and white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span>—many +of the men stamped, by their coal-begrimed +faces, their stained overalls, and the lamps above the +visors of their caps, as mine workers.</p> + +<p>After a time my companion and I moved to the exceedingly +dirty smoking room at the end of the car, +where we sat and listened to the homely conversation +of a group of men who seemed not only to know one another, +but to know the same people in towns along the +line. Between stations they gossiped, smoked, chewed, +spat, and swore together like so many New England +crossroad sages, but when the train stopped they gave +encouraging attention to the droll performances of one +of their number, a shaggy, unshaven, rawboned man, of +middle age, gray-haired and collarless, who sat near the +window and uttered convincing imitations of the sounds +made by chickens, roosters, pigs, goats, and crows.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p444jpg" id="p444jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p444.jpg" width="600" height="405" alt="A shaggy, unshaven, rawboned man, gray-haired and collarless, sat near the window and uttered convincing imitations +of the sounds made by chickens, roosters, pigs, goats and crows" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A shaggy, unshaven, rawboned man, gray-haired and collarless, sat near the window and uttered convincing imitations +of the sounds made by chickens, roosters, pigs, goats and crows</span> +</div> + +<p>The platform crowds, the negroes in particular, were +mystified and lured by this animal chorus coming from +a passenger coach. On hearing it they would first gaze +in astonishment at the car, then edge up to the windows +and doors, and peer in with eyes solemn, round, and +wondering, only to be more amazed than ever by the +discovery that the car housed neither bird nor beast. +This bucolic comedy was repeated at every station until +we reached Wyatt, Alabama, where our gifted fellow +traveler arose, pointed his collar button toward the door, +bade us farewell, and departed, saying that he was going +to "walk over to Democrat."</p> + +<p>Presently the conductor dropped in for a chat, in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> +course of which he informed the assembly that a certain +old lady in one of the towns along the way had died +the night before, whereupon our companions of the +smoking room, all of whom seemed to have known the +old lady well, held a protracted discussion of her history +and traits.</p> + +<p>After a time my companion and I put in a few questions +about the State of Mississippi. Boiled down, the +principal information we gathered was as follows:</p> + +<p>By the 1910 census Mississippi had not one city of +25,000 inhabitants. Meridian, with 23,000, was (and +probably still is) her metropolis, with Jackson and +Vicksburg, cities of about 20,000 each, following. The +entire State has but fifteen cities having a population of +5000 or more, so that, of a total of about a million and +three-quarters of people in the State (more than half of +them colored), only about one-tenth live in towns with a +population of 5000 or over.</p> + +<p>After a little visit the conductor went away. Now +and then a man would leave us and get off at a station, +or some new passenger would join our group. Presently +I found myself thinking about dinner, and asked a +man wearing an electric-blue cap if he knew what provision +was made for the evening meal.</p> + +<p>Before he could reply the train boy, who had come +into the smoking room a few minutes before, piped up. +He was a train boy of a type I had supposed extinct: the +kind of train boy one might have encountered on almost +any second-rate train twenty years ago,—a bold, im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span>pudent +young smartaleck, full of insistent salesmanship +and obnoxious conversation. He declared that dinner +was not to be had, and that the only sustenance available +en route consisted in the uninviting assortment of fruit, +nuts, candy, and sweet tepid beverages contained in his +basket.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for us, the man we had addressed knew +better.</p> + +<p>"What do you want to lie like that for, boy?" he demanded. +"You know as well as I do that the brakeman +takes on five boxes of lunch at Covin."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the boy, with a grin, "I gotta sell +things, ain't I? The brakeman hadn't oughta have +that graft anyhow. <i>I'd</i> oughta have it. He gets +them lunches fer two bits and sells 'em for thirty-five +cents." Far from feeling abashed, he was pleased with +himself.</p> + +<p>"Folks is funny people," remarked a man with a +weather-beaten face who sat in the corner seat, and +seemed to be addressing no one in particular. "I know +a boy that's going to git hung some day. And when +they've got the noose rigged nice around his neck, and +everything ready, and the trap a-waitin' to be sprung, +why, then that boy is goin' to be so sorry for hisself that +he won't hardly know what to do. He'll say: 'I ain't +never had no chance in life, I ain't. The world ain't +never used me right.' ... Yes, folks is funny people."</p> + +<p>After this soliloquy there occurred a brief silence in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> +the smoking room, and presently the train boy took up +his basket and went upon his way.</p> + +<p>"You say they take on the lunches at Covin now?" +one of the passengers asked of the man in the electric-blue +cap.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What's become of old man Whitney, over to Fayetteville?"</p> + +<p>"They used to git lunches off of him," replied the +other, "but the old man wasn't none too dependable. +Now and then he'd oversleep, and folks on the 5 <span class="smcap">a. m.</span> +out of Columbus was like to starve for breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Right smart shock-headed boy the old man's got," +put in another. "The old man gives 'im anything he +wants. He wanted a motorcycle, and the old man give +'im one. Then he wanted one of them hot-candy machines; +they cost about two hundred and fifty dollars, +but the old man give it to 'im just the same."</p> + +<p>"The kid went to San Francisco with it, didn't he?" +asked the man with the electric-blue cap.</p> + +<p>"He started to go there," replied the former speaker, +"but he only got as fur as Little Rock; then he come on +back home, and the old man bought 'im a wireless-telegraph +plant. Yeaup! That boy gets messages right +outa the air—from Washington, D. C., and Berlin, and +every place. The Govamunt don't allow 'im to tell you +much of it. He tells a little, though—just to give you a +notion."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span></p> + +<p>So, through the five-hour ride the conversation ran. +Several times the talk drifted to politics and to the European +War, but the politics discussed were local and lopsided, +and the war was all too clearly regarded as something +interesting but vague and remote. On the entire +journey not one word was spoken indicating that the +people of this section had the least grasp on any national +question, or that they were considering national questions, +or that they realized what the war in Europe is +about—that it is a war for freedom and democracy, a +war against war, a war to prevent a few individuals +from ever again plunging the world into war. Nor, +though the day of our entry into the war was close at +hand, had the idea that we might be forced to take part +in the conflict so much as occurred to any of them.</p> + +<p>They were not stupid people; on the contrary, some +of them possessed a homely and picturesque philosophy; +but they were not informed, and the reason they +were not informed has to do with one of the chief needs +of our rural population—especially the rural population +of the South.</p> + +<p>What they need is good newspapers. They need +more world news and national news in place of county +news and local briefs. In the whole South, moreover, +there is need for general political news instead of biased +news written always from inside the Democratic party, +and sandwiched in between patent medicine advertisements.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI<br /> +<br /> +A MISSISSIPPI TOWN</h2> + + +<p>It was dark when, after a journey of one hundred +and twenty miles at the rate of twenty miles an +hour, we reached Columbus, a city which was never +intended to be a metropolis and which will never be one.</p> + +<p>Columbus is situated upon a bluff on the east bank of +the Tombigbee River, to the west of which is a very fertile +lowland region, filled with plantations, the owners +of which, a century ago, founded the town in order that +their families might have churches, schools, and the advantages +of social life. As the town grew, a curious but +entirely natural community spirit developed; when a gas +plant, water works, or hotel was needed, prosperous citizens +got together and financed the enterprise, not so +much for profit as for mutual comfort.</p> + +<p>In these ante bellum times the planters used to make +annual journeys to Mobile and New Orleans, going by +boat on the Tombigbee and taking their crops and their +families with them. After selling their cotton and enjoying +themselves in the city, they would load supplies +for the ensuing year upon river boats and return to Columbus, +where the supplies were transferred to their +vast attic storerooms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span></p> + +<p>Though their only water transportation was to the +southward, they did not journey invariably in that direction, +but sometimes made excursions to such fashionable +watering places as the Virginia Springs, or Saratoga, +to which they drove in their own carriages.</p> + +<p>When, in the early days of railroad building, the Mobile +& Ohio Railroad was being planned, the company +proposed to include Columbus as one of its main-line +points and asked for a right of way through the town +and a cash bonus in consideration of the benefits Columbus +would derive from railroad service. Both requests +were refused. The railroad company then waived the +bonus and attempted to obtain a right of way by purchase. +But to no purpose. The citizens would not sell. +They did not want a railroad. They were prosperous +and healthy, and they contended that a railroad would +bring poor people and disease among them, besides killing +farm animals and causing runaways. The company +was consequently forced to make a new survey, +and when the line was built it passed at a distance of a +dozen miles or more from the city.</p> + +<p>Gradually dawned the era of speed and impatience. +People who had hitherto been satisfied to make long +journeys in horse-drawn vehicles, and had refused the +railroad a right of way, now began to complain of the +twelve-mile drive to the nearest station, and to suggest +that the company build a branch line into the town. +But this time it was the railroad's turn to say no, and +Columbus was informed that if it wished a branch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span> +line it could go ahead and build it at its own expense. +This was finally done at a cost of fifty thousand +dollars.</p> + +<p>With the construction of the branch line, carriages +fell into disuse and dilapidation, and many an old +barouche, landau, and brett passed into the hands of +the negro hackmen who were former slaves of the old +families. Among these ex-slaves the traditions of the +first families of Columbus were upheld long after the +war, and it thus happened that when, a few years since, +a young New Yorker, arriving for a visit in the town, +alighted from his train, he was greeted by an ancient +negro who, indicating an equally ancient carriage, cried: +"Hack, suh! Hack, suh! Ain't nevah been rid in by +none but the Billupses."</p> + +<p>Not every young man from the North would have +understood this reference, but by a coincidence it was at +the residence of Mrs. Billups that this one had come +to visit.</p> + +<p>Neither as to hack nor habitation were my companion +and I so fortunate as the earlier visitor. Our conveyance +was a Ford, and the driver warned us, as we progressed +through shadowy tree-bordered streets, that the +Gilmer Hotel was crowded with delegates who had come +to attend the State convention of the Order of the Eastern +Star. Nor was his warning without foundation. +The wide old-fashioned lobby of the Gilmer was hung +with the colors of the Order and packed with Ladies +of the Eastern Star and their ecstatic families; we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> +managed to make our way through the press only to be +told by the single worn-out clerk on duty that not a room +was to be had.</p> + +<p>Unlike the haughty clerk who had dismissed us from +the Tutwiler Hotel in Birmingham, the clerk at the +Gilmer was not without the quality of mercy. Overworked +though he was, he began at once to telephone +about the town in an effort to secure us rooms. But if +this led us to conclude that our problem was thereby in +effect solved, we discovered, after listening to his brief +telephonic conversations with a series of unseen ladies, +that the conclusion was premature. Though there +were vacant rooms in several private houses, strange +stray males were not desired as lodgers.</p> + +<p>Concerned as we were over our plight, my companion +and I could not help being aware that a young lady who +had been standing at the desk when we came in, and +had since remained there, was taking kindly interest in +the situation. Nor, for the matter of that, could we +help being aware, also, that she was very pretty in her +soft black dress and corsage of narcissus. She did not +speak to us; indeed, she hardly honored us with a glance; +but, despite her sweet circumspection, we sensed in some +subtle way that she was sorry for us, and were cheered +thereby.</p> + +<p>After a time, when the clerk seemed to have reached +the end of his resources, the young lady hesitantly ventured +some suggestions as to other houses where rooms +might possibly be had. These suggestions she ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span>dressed +entirely to the clerk—who, upon receiving them, +did more telephoning.</p> + +<p>"Have you tried Mrs. Eichelberger?" the young lady +asked him, after several more failures.</p> + +<p>He had not, but promptly did so. His conversation +with Mrs. Eichelberger started promisingly, but presently +we heard him make the damning admission he had +been compelled repeatedly to make before:</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am. It's two men."</p> + +<p>Then, just as the last hope seemed to be fading, our +angel of mercy spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" she put in impulsively. "Tell her—tell her +I recommend them."</p> + +<p>Thus informed, Mrs. Eichelberger became compliant; +but when the details were arranged, and we turned to +thank our benefactor, she had fled.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Eichelberger's house was but a few blocks distant +from the Gilmer. She installed us in two large, +comfortable rooms, remarking, as we entered, that we +had better hurry, as we were already late.</p> + +<p>"Late for what?" one of us asked.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you come for the senior dramatics?"</p> + +<p>"Senior dramatics where?"</p> + +<p>"At the I. I. and C."</p> + +<p>"What is the I. I. and C?"</p> + +<p>At this question a look of doubt, if not suspicion, +crossed the lady's face.</p> + +<p>"Where are you-all from?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>The statement that we came from New York seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span> +to explain satisfactorily our ignorance of the I. I. and +C. Evidently Mrs. Eichelberger expected little of New +Yorkers. The I. I. and C., she explained, was the +Mississippi Industrial Institute and College, formerly +known as the Female College, a State institution for +young women; and the senior dramatics were even then +in progress in the college chapel, just up the street.</p> + +<p>To the chapel, therefore, my companion and I repaired +as rapidly as might be, guided thither by frequent +sounds of applause.</p> + +<p>From among the seniors standing guard in cap and +gown at the chapel door, the quick artistic eye of my +companion selected a brown-eyed auburn-haired young +goddess as the one from whom tickets might most appropriately +be bought. Nor did he display thrift in the +transaction. Instead of buying modest quarter seats +he magnificently purchased the fifty-cent kind.</p> + +<p>The dazzling ticket seller, transformed to usher, now +led us into the crowded auditorium and down an aisle. +A few rows from the stage she stopped, and, fastening a +frigid gaze upon two hapless young women who were +seated some distance in from the passageway, bade them +emerge and yield their place to us.</p> + +<p>Of course we instantly protested, albeit in whispers, +as the play was going on. But the beautiful Olympian +lightly brushed aside our objections.</p> + +<p>"They don't belong here," she declared loftily. +"They're freshmen—and they only bought quarter +seats."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then, as the guilty pair seemed to hesitate, she summoned +them with a compelling gesture and the command: +"Come out!"</p> + +<p>At this they arose meekly enough, whereupon we redoubled +our protests. But to no purpose. The Titian-tinted +creature was relentless. Our pleas figured no +more in her scheme of things than if they had been babblings +in an unknown tongue. To add to our discomfiture, +a large part of the audience seemed to have perceived +the nature of our dilemma, and was giving us +amused attention.</p> + +<p>It was a crisis; and in a crisis—especially one in which +a member of the so-called gentle sex is involved—I have +learned to look to my companion. He understands +women. He has often told me so. And now, by his +action, he proved it. What he did was to turn and flee, +and I fled with him; nor did we pause until we were +safely hidden away in humble twenty-five cent seats at +the rear of the chapel, in the shadow of the overhanging +gallery.</p> + +<p>It is not my intention to write an extended criticism +of the performance. For one thing, I witnessed only a +fragment of it, and for another, though I once acted for +a brief period as dramatic critic on a New York newspaper, +I was advised by my managing editor to give up +dramatic criticism, and I have followed his advice.</p> + +<p>The scene evidently represented a room, its walls +made of red screens behind which rose the lofty pipes of +the chapel organ. On a pedestal at one side stood a bust<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> +of the Venus de Milo, while on the other hung an engraving +of a familiar picture which I believe is called +"The Fates," and which has the appearance of having +been painted by some-one-or-other like Leighton or +Bouguereau or Harold Bell Wright.</p> + +<p>After we had given some attention to the play my +companion remarked that, from the dialect, he judged +it to be "Uncle Tom's Cabin." I had been told, however, +that for certain reasons "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is +never played in the South; I therefore asked the young +man in front of me what play it was. He replied that +it was Booth Tarkington and Harry Leon Wilson's +comedy, "The Man From Home," and as he made the +statement openly, I feel that I am violating no confidence +in repeating what he said—especially since his declaration +was supported by the program which he showed me.</p> + +<p>He was a pleasant young man. Perceiving that I +was a stranger, he volunteered the additional information +that the masculine rôles, as well as the feminine +ones, were being played by girls; and I trust that I will +not seem to be boasting of perspicacity when I declare +that there had already entered my mind a suspicion that +such was indeed the case.</p> + +<p>Behold them! Gaze upon the character called Daniel +Voorhees Pike! See what long strides he takes, and +with what pretty tiny feet! Observe the manliness with +which he thrusts his pink little hands deep in the pockets +of his—or somebody's—pantaloons!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p456jpg" id="p456jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p456.jpg" width="600" height="413" alt="Gaze upon the character called Daniel Voorhees Pike! Observe the manliness with which he thrusts his pink little +hands deep in the pockets of his—or somebody's—pantaloons!" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Gaze upon the character called Daniel Voorhees Pike! Observe the manliness with which he thrusts his pink little +hands deep in the pockets of his—or somebody's—pantaloons!</span> +</div> + +<p>Look at the Grand Duke Vasili of Russia, his sweet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span> +oval face and rosy mouth partly obscured by mustache +and goatee of a most strange wooliness.</p> + +<p>Observe the ineradicable daintiness of the Honorable +Almeric St. Aubyn, but more particularly attend to that +villain of helpless loveliness, the Earl of Hawcastle. +The frightful life which, it is indicated, the Earl has led, +leaves no tell-tale marks upon his blooming countenance. +His only facial disfigurement consists in a mustache +which, by reason of its grand-ducal lanateness, seems +to hint at a mysterious relationship between the British +and Russian noblemen.</p> + +<p>Take note, moreover, of the outlines of the players. +If ever earl was belted it was this one. If ever duke +in evening dress revealed delectable convexities of figure, +it was this duke. If ever worthy male from Indiana +spoke in a soprano voice and was lithe, alluring, +and recurvous, she was Daniel Voorhees Pike.</p> + +<p>A young woman seated near us described to her escort +the personal characteristics of the various young +ladies on the stage, and when we heard her call one girl +who played in a betrousered part, "a perfect darling," +we echoed inwardly the sentiment. All were darlings. +And this especial "perfect darling" appeared as well to +be a "perfect thirty-six."</p> + +<p>The Earl was my undoing. At a critical point in +the unfolding of the plot there was talk of his having +been connected with a scandal in St. Petersburg. +This he attempted to deny, and though I am unable +to quote the exact words of his denial, the sound of it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span> +lingers sweetly in my memory. Nor would the exact +words, could I give them, convey, in print, the quality +of what was said, for the Earl, and all the rest, spoke in +the soft, melodious tones of Mississippi.</p> + +<p>"What you-all fussin' raound heah for, this mownin'?" +That, perhaps, conveys some sense of a line he +spoke on entering.</p> + +<p>And when, in reply, one of the others mentioned +the scandal at St. Petersburg, the flavor of the Earl's +retort, as its cooing tones remain with me, was +this:</p> + +<p>"Wha', honey! What you-all mean hintin' raound +'baout St. Petuhsbuhg? I reckon you don' know what +you talkin' 'baout! Ah nevuh was in that taown in all +ma bo'n days!"</p> + +<p>What followed I am unable to relate, for the Earl's +speech caused me to become emotional, and my companion, +after informing me severely that I was making +myself conspicuous, removed me from the chapel.</p> + +<p>The auburn goddess was still on duty at the door as +we went out. Advancing, she placed in each of our +hands a quarter. I regret to say that, in my shaken +state, I misinterpreted this action.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! <i>Please!</i>" I protested, fearing that she +thought we had not enjoyed the performance, and was +therefore returning our money. "It really wasn't bad +at all. We're only going because we have an engagement."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be quiet!" interrupted my companion in a savage +undertone, jerking me along by the arm. "It's only a +rebate on the seats!" And without allowing me a +chance to set myself right he dragged me out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII<br /> +<br /> +OLD TALES AND A NEW GAME</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. Eichelberger supplied us merely +with a place to sleep. For meals she referred +us to a lady who lived a few doors up the street. +But when in the morning we went, full of hunger and of +hope, to the house of this lady, we were coldly informed +that breakfast was over, and were recommended to the +Bell Café, downtown.</p> + +<p>My companion and I are not of that robust breed +which enjoys a bracing walk before its morning coffee, +and the fact that the streets of Columbus charmed us, +as we now saw them for the first time by daylight, is +proof enough of their quality. There is but little appetite +for beauty in an empty stomach.</p> + +<p>The streets were splendidly wide, and bordered with +fine old trees, and the houses, each in its own lawn, each +with its vines and shrubs, were full of the suggestion of +an easy-going home life and an informal hospitality. +Most of them were of frame and in their architecture +illustrated the decadence of the eighties and nineties, +but here or there was a fine old brick homestead with +a noble columned portico, or a formal Georgian house, +disposed among beautiful trees and gardens and shel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span>tered +from the street by an ancient hedge of box. So, +though Columbus is, as I have indicated, not too easily +reached by rail, and though, as I have further indicated, +walks before breakfast are not to my taste, I am compelled +to say that for both the journey and the walk I +felt repaid by the sight of some of the old houses—the +Baldwin house, the W. D. Humphries house, the J. O. +Banks house, the old McLaren house, the Kinnebrew +house, the Thomas Hardy house, the J. M. Morgan +house, with its garden of lilies and roses, its giant magnolia +trees and its huge camellia bushes; and most of all, +perhaps, for its Georgian beauty, the mellow tone of its +old brick, its rich tangle of southern growths, and its +associations, the venerable mansion of the late General +Stephen D. Lee, C. S. A.—now the property of the latter's +only son, Mr. Blewett Lee, general counsel of the +Illinois Central Railroad, and a resident of Chicago.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p465jpg" id="p465jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p465.jpg" width="600" height="439" alt="The houses were full of the suggestion of an easy-going home life and an informal hospitality. (Back yard of the +former home of General Stephen D. Lee.)" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The houses were full of the suggestion of an easy-going home life and an informal hospitality. (Back yard of the +former home of General Stephen D. Lee.)</span> +</div> + +<p>It was apropos of our visit to the Lee house that I was +told of a dramatic and touching example of the rebirth +of amity between North and South.</p> + +<p>Stephen D. Lee it was who, as a young artillery officer +attached to the staff of General Beauregard, transmitted +the actual order to fire on Fort Sumter, the shot +which began the war. Two years later, having been +promoted to the rank of lieutenant-general, the same +Stephen D. Lee participated in the defense of Vicksburg +against the assaults of Porter's gunboats from the +river and of Grant's armies, which hemmed in the hilled +city on landward side, until at last, on the 4th of July,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> +1863, the place was surrendered, making Grant's fame +secure.</p> + +<p>Years after, when the Government of the United +States accepted a statue of General Stephen D. Lee, to +be placed upon the battle ground of Vicksburg—now a +national park—it was the late General Frederick Dent +Grant, son of the capturer of the city, who journeyed +thither to unveil the memorial to his father's former +foe. And by a peculiarly gracious and fitting set of circumstances +it came about that when, in April last, the +ninety-fifth anniversary of the birth of U. S. Grant +was celebrated in his native city, Galena, Illinois, it was +Blewett Lee, only son of the general taken by Grant at +Vicksburg, who journeyed to Galena and there in a +memorial address, returned the earlier compliment paid +to the memory of his own father by Grant's son.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Columbus may perhaps appreciate the charm of its +old homes, but there is evidence to show that it did not +appreciate certain other weatherworn structures of +great beauty. I have seen photographs of an old Baptist +Church with a fine (and not at all Baptist-looking) +portico and fluted columns, which was torn down to +make room for the present stupidly commonplace Baptist +church: and I have seen pictures of the beautiful old +town hall which was recently supplanted by an ignorantly +ordinary town building of yellow pressed brick. +The destruction of these two early buildings represents +an irreparable loss to Columbus, and it is to be hoped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> +that the town will some day be sufficiently enlightened +to know that this is true and to regret that it did +not restore and enlarge them instead of tearing them +down.</p> + +<p>Until a decade or two ago Columbus had, so far as I +can learn, but four streets possessing names: Main +Street, Market Street, College Street, and Catfish Alley, +all other streets being known as "the street that Mrs. +Billups, or Mrs. Sykes, or Mrs. Humphries, or Mrs. +Some-one-else lives on."</p> + +<p>Market and Main are business streets—at least they +are so where they cross—and, like the other streets, are +wide. They are lined with brick buildings few if any of +them more than three stories in height, and it was in +one of these buildings, on Main Street, that we found the +Bell Café—advertised as "the most exclusive café in +the State."</p> + +<p>Being in search of breakfast rather than exclusiveness, +we did not sit at one of the tables, but at the long +lunch counter, where we were quickly served.</p> + +<p>After breakfast we felt strong enough to look at picture +post cards, and to that end visited first "Cheap +Joe's" and then the shop of Mr. Divilbis, where newspapers, +magazines, sporting goods, cameras, and all +such things, are sold. Having viewed post cards picturing +such scenes as "Main Street looking north," +"The 1st Baptist Church," and "Steamer <i>America</i>, +Tombigbee River," we were about to depart, when our +attention was drawn to a telephonic conversation which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span> +had started between Mr. Divilbis's clerk and a customer +who was thinking of going in for the game of lawn +tennis. The half of the conversation which was audible +to us proved entertaining, and we dallied, eavesdropping.</p> + +<p>The clerk began by recommending tennis. "Yes," he +said, "that would be very nice. Everybody is playing +tennis now."</p> + +<p>But that got him into trouble, for after a pause he +said: "I'm sorry I can't tell you everything about it. +I don't play tennis myself. Al could tell you, though. +He plays."</p> + +<p>Then, after a much longer pause: "Well, ma'am, +you see, in a game of lawn tennis everybody owns their +own racquet."</p> + +<p>At this juncture a tall, thin man in what is known +(excepting at Palm Beach) as a "Palm Beach suit," +entered the shop and the clerk asked his inquisitor to +hold the wire while he made some inquiries. After a +long conversation with the new arrival he returned to +the telephone and resumed his explanation.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, they have a net, and one stands on one +side and one on the other—yes, ma'am, there <i>can</i> be two +on each side—and one serves. What? Yes, he hits +the ball over the net, and it has to go in the opposite +court on the other side, and then if that one doesn't +send it back—Yes, the court is marked with lines—why, +that counts fifteen. The next count is thirty. +What? No, ma'am, I don't know why they count that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span> +way. No, it's just the way they do in lawn tennis. If +your opponent has nothing, why, they call that 'love.' +Yes, that's it—l-o-v-e—just the same as when anybody's +<i>in</i> love. No, ma'am, I don't know why.... +So that's the way they count.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, the lines are boundaries. You have to +stand in a certain place and hit the ball in a certain +place.... No, I don't mean that way. You've got to +hit it so it <i>lands</i> in a certain place; and the one that's +playing against you has to hit it back in a certain place, +and if it goes in some <i>other</i> place, then you can't play it +any more. Oh, no! Not all day. I mean that ends +<i>that</i> part, and you start over. You just keep on doing +like that."</p> + +<p>But though it was apparent that he considered his +explanation complete, the lady at the other end of the +wire was evidently not yet satisfied, and as he began to +struggle with more questions we left the shop and went +to the Gilmer Hotel to see if any mail had come for us.</p> + +<p>The Gilmer was built by slave labor some years before +the war, and was in its day considered a very +handsome edifice. Nor is it to-day an unsatisfactory +hotel for a town of the size of Columbus. Its old brick +walls are sturdy, and its rooms are of a fine spaciousness. +Downstairs it has been somewhat remodeled, +but the large parlor on the second floor is much as it was +in the beginning, even to the great mirrors and the +carved furniture imported more than sixty years ago +from France. Most of the doors still have the old locks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> +and the window cords originally installed were of such +a quality that they have not had to be renewed.</p> + +<p>The Gilmer was still new when the Battle of Shiloh +was fought, and several thousand of the wounded were +brought to Columbus. The hotel and various other +buildings, including that of the former Female Institute, +were converted into hospitals, as were also many +private houses in the town.</p> + +<p>Though there was never fighting at Columbus, the +end of the war found some fifteen hundred soldiers' +graves in Friendship Cemetery, perhaps twoscore of the +number being those of Federals. The citizens were, at +this time, too poor and too broken in spirit to erect +memorials, but several ladies of Columbus made it their +custom to visit the cemetery and care for the graves of +the Confederate dead. This movement, started by individuals—Miss +Matt Moreton, Mrs. J. T. Fontaine, and +Mrs. Green T. Hill—was soon taken up by other ladies +of the place and resulted in a determination to make the +decoration of soldiers' graves an annual occurrence.</p> + +<p>In an old copy of the "Mississippi Index," published +at the time, may be found an account of the solemn march +of the women, young and old, to the cemetery, on April +25, 1866—one year after Robert E. Lee's surrender—and +of the decoration of the graves not only of Confederate +but of Federal soldiers. It is the proud boast +of Columbus that this occasion constituted the first celebration +of the now national Decoration Day—or, as it is +more properly called, Memorial Day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span></p> + +<p>It should perhaps be said here that Columbus, Georgia, +disputes the claim of Columbus, Mississippi, as to +Memorial Day. In the Georgia city it is contended that +the idea of decorating soldiers' graves originated with +Miss Lizzie Rutherford, later Mrs. Roswell Ellis, of +that place. The inscription of Mrs. Ellis' monument in +Linwood Cemetery, Columbus, Georgia, states that the +idea of Memorial Day originated with her.</p> + +<p>It seems clear, however, that the same idea occurred +to women in both cities simultaneously, and that, while +the actual celebration of the day occurred in Columbus, +Mississippi, one day earlier than in Columbus, Georgia, +the ladies of the latter city may have been first in suggesting +that Memorial Day be not a local celebration, +but one in which the whole South should take part.</p> + +<p>The incident of the first decoration of the graves of +Union as well as Confederate soldiers appears, however, +to belong entirely to Columbus, Mississippi, and it is certain +that this exhibition of magnanimity inspired F. W. +Finch to write the famous poem, "The Blue and the +Gray," for when that poem was first published in the +"Atlantic Monthly" for September, 1867, it carried the +following headnote:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The women of Columbus, Miss., animated by noble sentiments, +have shown themselves impartial in their offerings to the memory +of the dead. They strewed flowers on the graves of the +Confederate and of the National soldiers.</p></div> + +<p>This episode becomes the more touching by reason +of the fact that the Columbus lady who initiated the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span> +movement to place flowers on the Union graves, at a +time when such action was sure to provoke much criticism +in the South, was Mrs. Augusta Murdock Sykes, +herself the widow of a Confederate soldier.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So with an equal splendor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morning sun rays fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a touch impartially tender<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the blossoms blooming for all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the sod and the dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waiting the Judgment Day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broidered with gold the Blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mellowed with gold the Gray.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII<br /> +<br /> +OUT OF THE LONG AGO</h2> + + +<p>While local historians attempt to tangle up +the exploration of De Soto with the early +history of this region, saying that De Soto +"entered the State of Mississippi near the site of Columbus," +and that "he probably crossed the Tombigbee +River at this point," their conclusions are largely the +result of guesswork. But it is not guesswork to say that +when the Kentucky and Tennessee volunteers, going to +the aid of Andrew Jackson, at New Orleans, in 1814, cut +a military road from Tuscumbia, Alabama, to the Gulf, +they passed over the site of Columbus, for the road they +cut remains to-day one of the principal highways of the +district as well as one of the chief streets of the town.</p> + +<p>More clearly defined, of course, are memories of the +Civil War and of Reconstruction, for there are many +present-day residents of Columbus who remember both. +Among these is one of those wonderful, sweet, high-spirited, +and altogether fascinating ladies whom we +call old only because their hair is white and because a +number of years have passed over their heads—one of +those glorious young old ladies in which the South is, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span> +think, richer than any other single section of the world.</p> + +<p>It was our good fortune to meet Mrs. John Billups, +and to see some of her treasured relics—among them the +flag carried through the battles of Monterey and Buena +Vista by the First Mississippi Regiment, of which Jefferson +Davis was colonel, and in which her husband was +a lieutenant; and a crutch used by General Nathan Bedford +Forrest when he was housed at the Billups residence +in Columbus, recovering from a wound. But better +yet it was to hear Mrs. Billups herself tell of the +times when the house in which she lived as a young +woman, at Holly Springs, Mississippi, was used as +headquarters by General Grant.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Billups, who was a Miss Govan, was educated in +Philadelphia and Wilmington, and had many friends +and relatives in the North. Her mother was Mrs. +Mary Govan of Holly Springs, and her brother's wife, +who resided with the Govans during the war, was a Miss +Hawkes, a daughter of the Rev. Francis L. Hawkes, +then rector of St. Thomas's Church in New York. All +were, however, good Confederates.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Govan's house at Holly Springs was being used +as a hospital when Grant and his army marched, unresisted, +into the town, and Mrs. Govan, with her daughters +and daughter-in-law, had already moved to the residence +of Colonel Harvey Walter, which is to this day +a show place, and is now the residence of Mr. and Mrs. +Oscar Johnson of St. Louis—Mrs. Johnson being Colonel +Walter's daughter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span></p> + +<p>This house was selected by Grant as his headquarters, +and he resided there for a considerable period. ("It +seemed a mighty long time," says Mrs. Billups.) With +the general was Mrs. Grant and their son Jesse, as +well as Mrs. Grant's negro maid, Julia, who, Mrs. +Grant told Mrs. Billups, had been given to her, as a +slave, by her father, Colonel Dent. Mrs. Billups was +under the impression that Julia was, at that time, still a +slave. At all events, she was treated as a slave.</p> + +<p>"We all liked the Grants," Mrs. Billups said. "He +had very little to say, but she was very sociable and used +to come in and sit with us a great deal.</p> + +<p>"One day the general took his family and part of his +army and went to Oxford, Mississippi, leaving Colonel +Murphy in command at Holly Springs. While Grant +was away our Confederate General Van Dorn made a +raid on Holly Springs, capturing the town, tearing up +the railroad, and destroying the supplies of the Northern +army. He just dashed in, did his work, and dashed +out again.</p> + +<p>"Some of his men came to the house and, knowing that +it was Grant's headquarters, wished to make a search. +My mother was entirely willing they should do so, but +she knew that there were no papers in the house, and +assured the soldiers that if they did search they would +find nothing but Mrs. Grant's personal apparel—which +she was sure they would not wish to disturb.</p> + +<p>"That satisfied them and they went away.</p> + +<p>"Next morning back came Grant with his army. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> +rode up on horseback, preceded by his bodyguard, and I +remember that he looked worn and worried.</p> + +<p>"As he dismounted he saw my sister-in-law, Mrs. +Eaton Pugh Govan—the one who was Miss Hawkes—standing +on the gallery above.</p> + +<p>"He called up to her and said: 'Mrs. Govan, I suppose +my sword is gone?'</p> + +<p>"'What sword, General?' she asked him.</p> + +<p>"'The sword that was presented to me by the army. +I left it in my wife's closet.'</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Govan was thunderstruck.</p> + +<p>"'I didn't know it was there,' she said. 'Oh! I should +have been tempted to send it to General Van Dorn if I +had known that it was there!'</p> + +<p>"The next morning, as a reward to us for not having +known that his sword was there, the general gave us a +protection paper explicitly forbidding soldiers to enter +the house."</p> + +<p>Of course the Govans, like all other citizens of invaded +districts in the South, buried their family plate before +the "Yankees" came.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this had been accomplished—as they +thought, secretly—the Govans were preparing to entertain +friends at dinner when a negro boy who helped +about the dining-room remarked innocently, in the presence +of Mrs. Govan and several of her servants:</p> + +<p>"Missus ain't gwine to have no fine table to-night, +caze all de silvuh's done buried in de strawbe'y patch."</p> + +<p>He had seen the old gardener "planting" the plate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thereafter it was quietly decided in the family that +the negroes had better know nothing about the location +of buried treasure. That night, therefore, some gentlemen +went out to the strawberry patch, disinterred the +silver, carried it to Colonel Walter's place, and there +buried it under the front walk.</p> + +<p>"And after Grant came," said Mrs. Billups, "we used +to laugh as we watched the Union sentries marching up +and down that walk, right over our plate."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Among the items not already mentioned, of which +Columbus is proud, are the facts that she has supplied +two cabinet members within the past decade—J. M. +Dickinson, Taft's Secretary of War, and T. W. Gregory, +Wilson's Attorney General—and that J. Gano Johnson, +breeder of famous American saddle horses, has recently +come from Kentucky and established his Emerald Chief +Stock Farm in Lowndes County, a short distance from +the town.</p> + +<p>But items like these, let me be frank to say, do not +appeal to me as do the picturesque old stories which +cling about such a town.</p> + +<p>There is, for instance, the story of Alexander Keith +McClung, famous about the middle of the last century as +a duellist and dandy. McClung was a Virginian by +birth, but while still a young man took up his residence +in Columbus. His father studied law under Thomas +Jefferson and was later conspicuous in Kentucky politics, +and his mother was a sister of Chief Justice John Mar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span>shall. +In 1828, at the age of seventeen, McClung became +a midshipman in the navy, and though he remained +in the service but a year, he managed during that time +to fight a duel with another midshipman, who wounded +him in the arm. At eighteen he fought a duel near +Frankfort, Kentucky, with his cousin James W. Marshall. +His third duel was with a lawyer named Allen, +who resided in Jackson, Mississippi. Allen was the +challenger—as it is said McClung took pains to see that +his adversaries usually were, so that he might have the +choice of weapons, for he was very skillful with the pistol. +In his duel with Allen he specified that each was +to be armed with four pistols and a bowie knife, that +they were to start eighty paces apart, and upon signal +were to advance, firing at will. At about thirty paces +he shot Allen through the brain. His fourth duel was +with John Menifee, of Vicksburg, and was fought in +1839, on the river bank, near that city, with rifles at +thirty yards. Some idea of the spirit in which duelling +was taken in those days may be gathered from +the fact that the Vicksburg Rifles, of which Menifee was +an officer, turned out in full uniform to see the fight. +However they were doubly disappointed, for it was Menifee +and not McClung who died. It is said that a short +time after this, one of Menifee's brothers challenged McClung, +who killed this brother, and so on until he had +killed all seven male members of the Menifee family.</p> + +<p>McClung fought gallantly in the Mexican War, as +lieutenant-colonel of the First Mississippi Regiment,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span> +of which Jefferson Davis was colonel. Though he remained +always a bachelor it is said that he had many +love affairs. He was a hard drinker, a flowery speaker, +and a writer of sentimental verse. It is said that in his +later life he was exceedingly unhappy, brooding over the +lives he had taken in duels—fourteen in all. His last +poem was an "Invocation to Death," ending with the +line:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, Death, come soon! Come soon!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Shortly after writing it he shaved, dressed himself +with the most scrupulous care, and shot himself. This +occurred March 23, 1855, in the Eagle Hotel, North Capitol +Street, Jackson, Mississippi.</p> + +<p>"To preserve the neatness and cleanliness of his attire +after death should have ensued," says Colonel R. W. +Banks, "it is said he poured a little water upon the floor +to ascertain the direction the blood would take when it +flowed from the wound. Then, placing himself in +proper position, so that the gore would run from and not +toward his body, he placed the pistol to the right temple, +pulled the trigger and death quickly followed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV<br /> +<br /> +THE GIRL HE LEFT BEHIND HIM</h2> + + +<p>On our second evening in Columbus my companion +and I returned to the house, near our +domicile, to which we had been sent by Mrs. +Eichelberger for our meals; but owing to a misunderstanding +as to the dinner hour we found ourselves +again too late. The family, and the teachers +from the I. I. and C. who took meals there, were already +coming out from dinner to sit and chat on the steps in +the twilight.</p> + +<p>We were disappointed, for we were tired of restaurants, +and had counted on a home meal that night; nor +was our disappointment softened by the fact that the +lady whom we interviewed seemed to have no pity for us, +but dismissed us in a chilling manner, which hinted that, +even had we been in time for dinner, we should have +been none too welcome at her exclusive board.</p> + +<p>Crestfallen, we turned away and started once more +in the direction of the Belle Café. In the half light the +street held for us a melancholy loveliness. Above, the +great trees made a dark, soft canopy; the air was balmy +and sweet with the scent of lilacs and roses; lights were +beginning to appear in windows along the way. Yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span> +none of it was for us. We were wanderers, condemned +forever to walk through strange streets whose homes +we might not enter, and whose inhabitants we might not +know.</p> + +<p>When we had proceeded in silence for a block or two, +we perceived a woman strolling toward us on the walk +ahead. Nor was it yet so dark that we could fail to +notice, as we neared her, that she was very pretty in her +soft black dress and her corsage of narcissus—that, in +short, she was the young lady whom, though we were indebted +to her for our rooms at Mrs. Eichelberger's, we +had not been able to thank.</p> + +<p>Now, of course, we stopped and told her of our gratitude. +First my companion told her of his. Then I told +her of mine. Then we both told her of our combined +gratitude. And after each telling she assured us sweetly +that it was nothing—nothing at all.</p> + +<p>All this made quite a little conversation. She hoped +that we were comfortable. We assured her that we +were. Then, because it seemed so pleasant to be talking, +on a balmy, flower-scented evening, with a pretty +girl wearing a soft black dress and a corsage of narcissus, +we branched out, telling her of our successive +disappointments as to meals in the house up the street.</p> + +<p>"Which house?" she asked.</p> + +<p>We described it.</p> + +<p>"That's where I live," said she.</p> + +<p>And to think we had twice been late!</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> live there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. It was my elder sister whom you saw." Then +we all smiled, for we had spoken of the chill which had +accompanied the rebuff.</p> + +<p>"Do you think your sister will let us come to-morrow +for breakfast?" ventured my companion.</p> + +<p>"If you're there by eight."</p> + +<p>"Because," he added, "breakfast is our last meal +here."</p> + +<p>"You're going away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. About noon."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said. And we hoped the way she said it +meant that she was just the least bit sorry we were +going.</p> + +<p>With that she started to move on again.</p> + +<p>"We'll see you at breakfast, then?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she said in a casual tone, continuing on her +way.</p> + +<p>"Not surely?"</p> + +<p>"Why not come and see?" The words were wafted +back to us provocatively upon the evening air.</p> + +<p>"We will! Good night."</p> + +<p>"Good night."</p> + +<p>We walked some little way in silence.</p> + +<p>"Eight o'clock!" murmured my companion presently +in a reflective, rueful tone. "We must turn in early."</p> + +<p>We did turn in early, and we should have been asleep +early was it not for the fact that among the chief wonders +of Columbus must be ranked its roosters—birds of +a ghastly habit of nocturnal vocalism.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span></p> + +<p>But though these creatures interfered somewhat with +our slumbers, and though eight is an early hour for us, +we reached the neighboring house next morning five +minutes ahead of time. And though the manner of the +elder sister was, as before, austere, that made no difference, +for the younger sister was there.</p> + +<p>After breakfast we dallied, chatting with her for a +time; then a bell began to toll, and my companion reminded +me that I had an engagement to visit the Industrial +Institute and College before leaving.</p> + +<p>It was quite true. I had made the engagement the +day before, but it had been my distinct understanding +that he was to accompany me; for if anything disconcerts +me it is to go alone to such a place. However +sweet girls may be as individuals, or in small groups, +they are in the mass diabolically cruel, and their cruelty +is directed especially against men. I know. I have +walked up to a college building to pay a call, while thirty +girls, seated on the steps, played, sang, and whistled an +inane marching tune, with the rhythm of which my steps +could not but keep time. I have been the only man in a +dining-room full of college girls. A hundred of them +put down their knives and forks with a clatter as I entered, +and a hundred pairs of mischievously solemn eyes +followed my every movement. Voluntarily to go +through such experiences alone a man must be in love. +And certainly I was not in love with any girl at the Industrial +Institute.</p> + +<p>"We both have an engagement," I said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I can't go," he returned.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I have two sketches to make before train time."</p> + +<p>"You're going to make me go over there <i>alone</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care whether you go or not," he replied mercilessly. +"You made the engagement. I had nothing to +do with it. But I am responsible for the pictures."</p> + +<p>Perceiving that it was useless to argue with him, I reluctantly +departed and, not without misgivings, made my +way to the Industrial Institute.</p> + +<p>I am thankful to say that there matters did not turn +out so badly for me as I had anticipated. I refused to +visit classrooms, and contented myself with gathering +information. And since the going to gather this information +cost me such uneasiness, I do not propose to +waste entirely the fruits of my effort, but shall here +record some of the facts that I collected.</p> + +<p>The Industrial Institute and College is for girls of sixteen +years or over who are graduates of high schools. +There are about 800 students taking either the collegiate, +normal, industrial, or musical courses, or combination +courses. This college, I was informed, was the +first in the country to offer industrial education to +women.</p> + +<p>Most of the students come from families in modest +circumstances, and attend the college with the definite +purpose of fitting themselves to become self-supporting. +The cost is very slight, the only regular charge, aside +from board and general living expenses, being a nominal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span> +matriculation fee of $5. There is no charge for rooms +in the large dormitories connected with the college. +Board, light, fuel, and laundry are paid for coöperatively, +the average cost per student, for all these, +being about ten dollars a month—which sum also includes +payment for a lyceum ticket and for two hats per +annum. Uniforms are worn by all, these being very +simple navy-blue suits with sailor hats. Seniors and +juniors wear cap and gown. All uniform requirements +may be covered at a cost of twenty dollars a year, and +a girl who practices economy may get through her college +year at a total cost of about $125, though of course +some spend considerably more.</p> + +<p>Many students work their way, either wholly or in +part. Thirty or forty of them serve in the dining room, +for which work they are allowed sixty-five dollars a +year. Others, who clean classrooms are allowed fifty +dollars a year, and still others earn various sums by +assisting in the library or reading room or by doing secretarial +work.</p> + +<p>Unlike the other departments of the college, the +musical department is not a tax upon the State, but is +entirely self-sustaining, each girl paying for her own +lessons. This department is under the direction of Miss +Weenonah Poindexter, to whose enthusiasm much if not +all of its success is due. Miss Poindexter began her +work in 1894, as the college's only piano teacher, giving +lessons in the dormitories. Now she not only has a +splendid music hall and a number of assistants, but has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span> +succeeded in making Columbus one of the recognized +musical centers of the South, by bringing there a series +of the most distinguished artists: Paderewski, Nordica, +Schumann-Heinck, Gadski, Sembrich, Bispham, +Albert Spaulding, Maud Powell, Damrosch's Orchestra, +and Sousa's Band.</p> + +<p>So much I had learned of the I. I. and C. when it came +time for me to flee to the train. My companion and I +had already packed our suitcases, and it had been arranged +between us that, instead of consuming time by +trying to meet and drive together to the station, we +should work independently, joining each other at the +train.</p> + +<p>I left the college in an automobile, stopping at Mrs. +Eichelberger's only long enough to get my suitcase. As +I drove on past the next corner I chanced to look up the +intersecting street. There, by a lilac bush, stood my +companion. He was not alone. With him was a very +pretty girl wearing a soft black dress and a corsage of +narcissus. But the corsage was now smaller, by one +flower, than it had been before, for, as I sighted them, +she was in the act of placing one of the blooms from her +bouquet in my companion's buttonhole. Her hands +looked very white and small against his dark coat, and +I recall that he was gazing down at them, and that his +features were distorted by a sentimental smile.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 414px;"> +<a name="p480jpg" id="p480jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p480.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="Her hands looked very white and small against his dark coat. He was gazing +down at them, his features distorted by a shockingly sentimental smile" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Her hands looked very white and small against his dark coat. He was gazing +down at them, his features distorted by a shockingly sentimental smile</span> +</div> + +<p>"Come on!" I called to him.</p> + +<p>He looked up. His expression was vague.</p> + +<p>"Go along," he returned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why don't you come with me now?"</p> + +<p>"I'll be there," he replied. "You buy the tickets and +check the baggage." And with that he turned his back.</p> + +<p>"Good-by," I called to the young lady. But she was +looking up at him and didn't seem to hear me.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>My companion arrived at the station in an old hack, +with horses at the gallop. He was barely in time.</p> + +<p>When we were settled in the car, bowling along over +the prairies toward the little junction town of Artesia, +I turned to him and inquired how his work had gone that +morning. But at that moment he caught sight, through +the car window, of some negroes sitting at a cabin door, +and exclaimed over their picturesqueness.</p> + +<p>I agreed. Then, as the train left them behind, I repeated +my question: "How did your work go?"</p> + +<p>"This is very fertile-looking country," said he.</p> + +<p>This time I did not reply, but asked:</p> + +<p>"Did you finish both sketches?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered. "Not both. There wasn't time."</p> + +<p>"Let's see the one you did."</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact," he returned, "I didn't do any. +You know how it is. Sometimes a fellow feels like +drawing—sometimes he doesn't. Somehow I didn't +feel like it this morning."</p> + +<p>With that he lifted the lapel of his coat and, bending +his head downward, sniffed in a romantic manner at the +sickeningly sweet flower in his buttonhole.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV<br /> +<br /> +VICKSBURG OLD AND NEW</h2> + + +<p>I should advise the traveler who is interested in +cities not to enter Vicksburg by the Alabama & +Vicksburg Railroad, which has a dingy little station +in a sort of gulch, but by the Yazoo & Mississippi +Valley Railroad—a branch of the Illinois Central—which +skirts the river bank and flashes a large first impression +of the city before the eyes of alighting passengers.</p> + +<p>The station itself is a pretty brick colonial building, +backed by a neat if tiny park maintained by the railroad +company, and facing the levee (pronounce "<i>lev</i>-vy"), +along which the tracks are laid. Beyond the +tracks untidy landing places are scattered along the +water front, with here and there a tall, awkward, stern-wheel +river steamer tied up, looking rather like an old-fashioned +New Jersey seacoast hotel, covered with +porches and jimcrack carving, painted white, embellished +with a cupola and a pair of tall, thin smokestacks, +and set adrift in its old age to masquerade in maritime +burlesque.</p> + +<p>At other points along the bank are moored a heterogeneous +assortment of shanty boats of an incredible +and comic slouchiness. Some are nothing but rafts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span> +made of water-soaked logs, bearing tiny shacks knocked +together out of driftwood and old patches of tin and +canvas, but the larger ones have barges, or the hulks +of old launches, as their foundation. These curious +craft are moored in long lines to the half-submerged +willow and cottonwood trees along the bank, or to stakes +driven into the levee, or to the railroad ties, or to whatever +objects, ashore, may be made fast an old frayed +rope or a piece of telephone wire. Long, narrow planks, +precariously propped, connect them with the river bank, +so that the men, women, children, dogs, and barnyard +creatures who inhabit them may pass to and fro. Some +of the boats are the homes of negro families, some of +whites. On some, negro fish markets are conducted, advertised +by large catfish dangling from their posts and +railings.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p504jpg" id="p504jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p504.jpg" width="600" height="394" alt="In some of the boats negro fish-markets are conducted, advertised by large catfish dangling from posts and railing" title="" /> +<span class="caption">In some of the boats negro fish-markets are conducted, advertised by large catfish dangling from posts and railing</span> +</div> + +<p>Whether fishing for market, for personal use, or +merely for the sake of having an occupation involving +a minimum of effort, the residents of shanty boats—particularly +the negroes—seem to spend most of their +days seated in drowsy attitudes, with fish poles in their +hands. Their eyes fall shut, their heads nod in the sun, +their lines lag in the muddy water; life is uneventful, +pleasant, and warm.</p> + +<p>When Porter's mortar fleet lay in the river, off Vicksburg, +bombarding the town, that river was the Mississippi, +but though it looks the same to-day as it did then, +it is not the Mississippi now, but the Yazoo River. +This comes about through one of those freakish changes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> +of course for which the great stream has always been +famous.</p> + +<p>In the old days Vicksburg was situated upon one of +the loops of a large letter "S" formed by the Mississippi, +but in 1876 the river cut through a section of land and +eliminated the loop upon which the town stood. Fortunately, +however, the Yazoo emptied into the Mississippi +above Vicksburg, and it was found possible, by digging +a canal, to divert the latter river from its course and +lead its waters into the loop left dry by the whim of +the greater stream. Thus the river life, out of which +Vicksburg was born, and without which the place would +lose its character, was retained, and the wicked old Mississippi, +which has played rough pranks on men and +cities since men and cities first appeared upon its banks, +was for once circumvented. This is but one item from +the record of grotesque tricks wrought by changes in +the river's course: a record of farms located at night +on one side of the stream, and in the morning on the +other; of large tracts of land transferred from State +to State by a sudden switch of this treacherous fluid line +of boundary; of river boats crashing by night into dry +land where yesterday a deep stream flowed; of towns +built up on river trade, utterly dependent upon the river, +yet finding themselves suddenly deserted by it, like wives +whose husbands disappear, leaving them withering, helpless, +and in want.</p> + +<p>Where the upper Mississippi, above St. Louis, flows +between tall bluffs it attains a grandeur which one ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span>pects +in mighty streams, but that is not the part of the +river which gets itself talked about in the newspapers +and in Congress, nor is it the part of the river one involuntarily +thinks of when the name Mississippi is mentioned. +The drama, the wonder, the mystery of the +Mississippi are in the lower river: the river of countless +wooded islands, now standing high and dry, now +buried to the tree tops in swirling torrents of muddy +water; the river of black gnarled snags carried downstream +to the Gulf with the speed of motor boats; the +river whose craft sail on a level with the roofs of +houses; the river of broken levees, of savage inundations.</p> + +<p>The upper river has a beauty which is like that of some +lovely, stately, placid, well-behaved blond wife. She is +conventional and correct. You always know where to +find her. The lower river is a temperamental mistress. +At one moment she is all sweetness, smiles and playfulness; +at the next vivid and passionate. Even when she +is at her loveliest there is always the possibility of sudden +fury: of her rising in a rage, breaking the furniture, +wrecking the house—yes, and perhaps winding her +wicked cold arms about you in a final destroying embrace.</p> + +<p>Being the "Gibraltar of the river" (albeit a Gibraltar +of clay and not of rock), Vicksburg does not suffer +when floods come. Turn your back upon the river, as +you stand on the platform of the Yazoo & Mississippi +railroad station, and you may gather at a glance an im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span>pression +of the town piling up the hillside to the eastward.</p> + +<p>The first buildings, occupying the narrow shelf of +land at the water's edge, are small warehouses, negro +eating houses, dilapidated little steamship offices, and +all manner of shacks in want of paint and repairs. +From the station Mulberry Street runs obliquely up the +hillside to the south. This street, which forms the main +thoroughfare to the station, used to be occupied by +wholesale houses, but has more lately been given over +largely to a frankly and prominently exposed district of +commercialized vice—negro and white. Not only is it +at the very door of Vicksburg, but it parallels, and is +but one block distant from, the city's main street.</p> + +<p>Other streets, so steep as hardly to be passable, directly +assault the face of the hill, mounting abruptly to +Washington Street, which runs on a flat terrace at about +the height of the top of the station roof, and exposes +to the view of the newly arrived traveler the unpainted +wooden backs of a number of frame buildings which, +though they are but two or three stories high in front, +reach in some cases a height of five or six stories at +the rear, owing to the steepness of the hillside to which +they cling. The roof lines, side walls, windows, chimneys, +galleries, posts, and railings of these sad-looking +structures are all picturesquely out of plumb, and some +idea of the general dilapidation may be gathered from +the fact that, one day, while my companion stood on +the station platform, drawing a picture of this scene, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</a></span> +brick chimney, a portrait of which he had just completed, +softly collapsed before our eyes, for all the world like +a sitter who, having held a pose too long, faints from +exhaustion.</p> + +<p>A brief inspection of the life on the galleries of these +foul old fire traps reveals them as negro tenements; and, +though they front on the main street of Vicksburg, it +should be explained that about here begins the "nigger +end" of Washington Street—the more prosperous +portion of the downtown section lying to the southward, +where substantial brick office buildings may be +seen.</p> + +<p>Between the ragged, bulging tenements above are occasional +narrow gaps through which are revealed cinematographic +glimpses of street traffic; and over the tenement +roofs one catches sight of sundry other buildings, +these being of brick, and, though old, and in no way +imposing, yet of a more prosperous and self-respecting +character than the nearer structures.</p> + +<p>Altogether, the scene, though it is one to delight an +etcher, is not of a character to inspire hope in the heart +of a humanitarian, or an expert on sanitation or fire +prevention. Nor, indeed, would it achieve completeness, +even on the artistic side, were it not for its crowning +feature. Far off, over the roofs and above them, +making an apex to the composition, and giving to the +whole picture a background of beauty and of ancient +dignity, rises the graceful white-columned cupola of +Vicksburg's old stone courthouse, partially obscured by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</a></span> +a feathery green tree top, hinting of space and foliage +upon the summit of the hill.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p492jpg" id="p492jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p492.jpg" width="600" height="353" alt="Over the tenement roofs one catches sight of sundry other buildings of a more self-respecting character, and, far +off, the cupola of Vicksburg's old stone court house" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Over the tenement roofs one catches sight of sundry other buildings of a more self-respecting character, and, far +off, the cupola of Vicksburg's old stone court house</span> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Pamphlets on Vicksburg, issued by railroad companies +for the enticement of tourists, give most of their space +to the story of the campaign leading to Grant's siege of +Vicksburg and to descriptions of the various operations +in the siege—the battlefield, now a national military +park, being considered the city's chief object of interest.</p> + +<p>Though I am not constitutionally enthusiastic about +seeing battlefields, I must admit that I found the field +of Vicksburg engrossing. The siege of a small city presents +a comparatively simple and compact military problem +which is, therefore, comprehensible to the civilian +mind, and in addition to this the Vicksburg battlefield is +splendidly preserved and marked, so that the visitor may +easily reconstruct the conflict.</p> + +<p>The park, which covers the fighting area, forms a +loose crescent-shaped strip over the hills which surround +the city, its points abutting on the river above and below. +The chief drives of the park parallel each other, the +inner one, Confederate Avenue, following, as nearly as +the hills permit, the city's line of defense, while the +other, Union Avenue, forms an outer semicircle and follows, +in a similar manner, the trenches of the attacking +forces.</p> + +<p>That the battlefield is so well preserved is due in part +to man and in part to Nature. Many of the hills of +Warren County, in which Vicksburg is situated, are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span> +composed of a curious soft limy clay, called marl, which, +normally, has not the solidity of soft chalk. Marse +Harris Dickson, who knows more about Vicksburg—and +also about negroes, common law, floods, funny +stories, geology, and rivers—than any other man in Mississippi, +tells me that this marl was deposited by the +river, in the form of silt, centuries ago, and that it was +later thrown up into hills by volcanic action. He did +not live in Vicksburg when this took place, but deduces +his facts from the discovery of the remains of shellfish +in the soil of the hills.</p> + +<p>Whatever its geological origin, this soil has some very +strange characteristics. In composition it is neither +stone nor sand, but a cross between the two—brown and +brittle. One can easily crush it to dust in one's hand, +in which form it has about the consistency of talcum +powder, and it may be added that when this brown powder +is seized by the winds and whirled about, Vicksburg +becomes one of the most mercilessly dusty cities on this +earth.</p> + +<p>On exposed slopes the marl washes very badly, forming +great caving gullies, but, curiously enough, where it +is exposed perpendicularly it does not wash, but slicks +over on the outside, and stands almost as well as soft +sandstone, although you can readily dig into it with your +fingers.</p> + +<p>Many of the highways leading in and out of the city +pass between tall walls of this peculiar soil, through +deep cuts which a visitor might naturally take for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> +result of careful grading by the road builders; but +Marse Harris Dickson tells me that the cuts are entirely +the result of erosion wrought by a hundred years of +wheeled traffic.</p> + +<p>So far as I know there is but one man who has witnessed +this phenomenon without being impressed. +That man is Samuel Merwin. Merwin went down and +visited Marse Harris in Vicksburg, and saw all the +sights. He was polite about the battlefield, and the +river, and the negro stories, and everything else, until +Marse Harris showed him how the highways had eroded +through the hills. That did not seem to impress him +at all. Moreover, instead of being tactful, he started +telling about his trip to China. In China, he said, there +were similar formations, but, as the civilization of China +was much older than that of Vicksburg (fancy his having +said a thing like that!) the gorges over there had +eroded to a much greater extent. He said he had seen +them three hundred feet deep.</p> + +<p>The more Marse Harris tried to get him to say something +a little bit complimentary about the Vicksburg erosions, +the more Merwin boasted about China. He declared +that the Vicksburg erosions didn't amount to a +hill of beans compared with what he could show Marse +Harris if Marse Harris would go with him to a certain +point on the banks of the Wa Choo, in the province of +Lang Pang Si.</p> + +<p>Evidently he harped on this until he touched not only +his host's local pride, but his pride of discovery. Be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span>fore +that, Marse Harris had been content to stick around +in Mississippi, with perhaps a little run down to New +Orleans for Mardi Gras, or up to Dogtail to see a break +in the levee, but after Merwin's talk about China he +began to grow restless, and it is generally said in Vicksburg +that it was purely in order to have something to +tell Merwin about, the next time he saw him, that he +made his celebrated trip to the source of the Nile. As +for Merwin, he has never been invited back to Vicksburg, +and it is to be observed that, even to this day, +Marse Harris, by nature of a sunny disposition, shows +signs of erosion of the spirit when China is mentioned.</p> + +<p>It is apropos the battlefield that I mention the peculiarities +of the soil. Had the bare ground been exposed +to the rains of a few years, the details of redoubts, +trenches, gun positions, saps, and all other military +works would have melted away. Fortunately, however, +there is a kind of tough, strong-rooted grass, called +Bermuda grass, indigenous to that part of the country, +and this grass quickly covered the battlefield, holding +the soil together so effectually that all outlines are practically +embalmed. So, although those in charge of the +park have contributed not a little to its preservation—putting +old guns in their former places, perpetuating +saps with concrete work, and placing white markers on +the hillsides, to show how far up those hillsides the assaulting +Union troops made their way in various historic +charges—it is due most of all to Nature that the Vicksburg +battlefield so well explains itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span></p> + +<p>Could Grant and Pemberton look to-day upon the hills +and valleys where surged their six weeks' struggle for +possession of the city, I doubt that they would find any +important landmark wanting, and it is certain that they +could not say, as Wellington did when he revisited +Waterloo: "They have spoiled my battlefield!"</p> + +<p>Besides the old guns and the markers, the field is +dotted over with observation towers and all manner of +memorials. Of the latter, the marble pantheon erected +by the State of Illinois, and the beautiful marble and +bronze memorial structure of the State of Iowa, are +probably the finest. The marble column erected by Wisconsin +carries at its summit a great bronze effigy of +"Old Abe," the famous eagle, mascot of the Wisconsin +troops. Guides to the battlefield are prone to relate +to visitors—especially, I suspect, those whose accents +betray a Northern origin—how "Old Abe," the bird of +battle, went home and disgraced himself, after the war, +by his ungentlemanly action in laying a setting of eggs.</p> + +<p>The handsomest monument to an individual which I +saw upon the battlefield was the admirable bronze bust +of Major General Martin L. Smith, C. S. A., and the +one which appealed most to my imagination was also +a memorial to a Confederate soldier: Brigadier-General +States Rights Gist. Is there not something Roman +in the thought that, thirty or more years before +the war, a southern father gave his new-born son +that name, dedicating him, as it were, to the cause of +States Rights, and that the son so dedicated gave his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span> +life in battle for that cause? The name upon that stone +made me better understand the depth of feeling that +existed in the South long years before the War, and +gave me a clearer comprehension of at least one reason +why the South made such a gallant fight.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Of more than fourscore national cemeteries in the +United States, that which stands among the hills and +trees, overlooking the river, at the northerly end of the +military park, is one of the most beautiful, and is, with +the single exception of Arlington, the largest. It contains +the graves of nearly 17,000 Union soldiers lost in +this campaign—three-fourths of them "unknown"!</p> + +<p>It is interesting to note that, because the surrender +of Pemberton to Grant occurred on July 4, that date +has, in this region, associations less happy than attach +to it elsewhere, and that the Fourth has not been celebrated +in Vicksburg since the Civil War, except by the +negroes, who have taken it for their especial holiday. +This reminds me, also, of the fact that, throughout the +South, Christmas, instead of the Fourth of July, is celebrated +with fireworks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI<br /> +<br /> +SHREDS AND PATCHES</h2> + + +<p>It was Marse Harris Dickson who showed us the +battlefield. As we were driving along in the motor +we overtook an old trudging negro, very picturesque +in his ragged clothing and battered soft hat. My +companion said that he would like to take a picture of +this wayfarer, and asked Marse Harris, who, as author +of the "Old Reliable" stories, seemed best fitted for the +task, to arrange the matter. The automobile, having +passed the negro, was stopped to wait for him to catch +up. Presently, as he came by, Marse Harris addressed +him in that friendly way Southerners have with negroes.</p> + +<p>"Want your picture taken, old man?" he asked.</p> + +<p>To which the negro, still shuffling along, replied:</p> + +<p>"I ain't got no money."</p> + +<p>Marse Harris, knowing the workings of the negro +mind, got the full import of this reply at once, but I +must confess that a moment passed before I realized +that the negro took us for itinerant photographers looking +for trade.</p> + +<p>With the possible exception of Irvin S. Cobb, I suppose +Marse Harris has the largest collection of negro +character stories of any individual in this country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> +And let me say, in this connection, that I know of no +better place than Vicksburg for the study of southern +negro types.</p> + +<p>One day Marse Harris was passing by the jail. It +was hot weather, and the jail windows were open. Behind +the bars of one window, looking down upon the +street, stood a negro prisoner. As Marse Harris passed +this window a negro wearing a large watch chain came +by in the other direction. His watch chain evidently +caught the eye of the prisoner, who spoke in a wistful +tone, demanding:</p> + +<p>"What tahme is it, brotha?"</p> + +<p>"What foh you want t' know what tahme it is?" returned +the other sternly, as he continued upon his way. +"You ain't goin' nowhere."</p> + +<p>Through Marse Harris I obtained a copy of a letter +written by a negro named Walter to Mr. W. H. +Reeve of Vicksburg. Walter had looked out for Mr. +Reeve's live stock during a flood, and had certain ideas +about what should be done for him in consequence. I +give the letter exactly as it was written, merely inserting, +parenthetically, a few explanatory words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Mr. H W Reeve an bos dear sir I like to git me a par [pair] +second hand pance dont a fail or elce I will be dout [without] a +pare to go eny where so send me something. Dont a fail an send +me a par of youre pance [or] i will hafter go to work for somebody +to git some. I don't think you all is treating me right at all +I stayed with youre hogs in the water till the last tening [attending] +to them and I dont think that youre oder [ought to] fail me +bout a pare old pance</i></p></div> +<p style="text-align: right;"><span class="smcap">Walter</span></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span></p> + +<p>Though I cannot see just why it should be so, it +seemed to us that the Vicksburg negroes were happier +than those of any other place we visited. Whether +drowsing in the sun, walking the streets, doing a little +stroke of work, fishing, or sitting gabbling on the curbstone, +they were upon the whole as cheerful and as comical +a lot of people as I ever saw.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p497jpg" id="p497jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p497.jpg" width="600" height="310" alt="Vicksburg negroes. Whether drowsing in the sun, doing a little stroke of work, or sitting gabbling on the curbstone, +they were upon the whole as cheerful and comical a lot of people as I ever saw" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Vicksburg negroes. Whether drowsing in the sun, doing a little stroke of work, or sitting gabbling on the curbstone, +they were upon the whole as cheerful and comical a lot of people as I ever saw</span> +</div> + +<p>"Wha' you-all goin' to?" I heard a negro ask a group +of mulatto women, in clean starched gingham dresses, +who went flouncing by him on the street one Saturday +afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Oh," returned one of the women, with the elaborate +superiority of a member of the class of idle rich, "we're +just serenadin' 'round."</p> + +<p>"Serenading," as she used the word, meant a promenade +about the town.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the happiness of the negro, here, has to do +with the lazy life of the river. The succulent catfish is +easily obtainable for food, and the wages of the roustabout—or +"rouster," as he is called for short—are good.</p> + +<p>The rouster, in his red undershirt, with a bale hook +hung in his belt, is a figure to fascinate the eye. When +he works—which is to say, when he is out of funds—he +works hard. He will swing a two-hundred-pound +sack to his back and do fancy steps as he marches with +it up the springy gangplank to the river steamer's deck, +uttering now and then a strange, barbaric snatch of +song. He has no home, no family, no responsibilities. +An ignorant deck hand can earn from forty to one hun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span>dred +dollars a month. Pay him off at the end of the +trip, let him get ashore with his money, and he is gone. +Without deck hands the steamer cannot move. For +many years there has been known to river captains a +simple way out of this difficulty. Pay the rousters off +a few hours before the end of the trip. Say there are +twenty of them, and that each is given twenty dollars. +They clear a space on deck and begin shooting craps. +No one interferes. By the time the trip ends most of +the money has passed into the hands of four or five; the +rest are "broke" and therefore remain at work. +Yet despite the ingenuity of those who have the negro +labor problem to contend with, Marse Harris tells me +that there have been times when the levee was lined +with steamers, full-loaded, but unable to depart for want +of a crew. Not that there was any lack of roustabouts +in town, but that, money being plentiful, they would not +work. In such times perishable freight rots and is +thrown overboard.</p> + +<p>I am conscious of a tendency, in writing of Vicksburg, +to dwell continually upon the negro and the river +for the reason that the two form an enchanting background +for the whole life of the place. This should not, +however, be taken to indicate that Vicksburg is not a +city of agreeable homes and pleasant society, or that its +only picturesqueness is to be found in the river and +negro life.</p> + +<p>The point is that Vicksburg is a patchwork city. +The National Park Hotel, its chief hostelry, is an un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span>usually +good hotel for a city of this size, and Washington +Street, in the neighborhood of the hotel, has the look +of a busy city street; yet on the same square with the +hotel, on the street below, nearer the river, is an unwholesome +negro settlement. So it is all over the city; +the "white folks" live on the hills, while the "niggers" +inhabit the adjacent bottoms. Nor is that the only +sense in which the town is patched together. Some of +the most charming of the city's old homes are tucked +away where the visitor is not likely to see them without +deliberate search. Such a place, for example, is the old +Klein house, standing amid lawns and old-fashioned +gardens, on the bluff overlooking the Mississippi. This +house was built long before the railroad came to Vicksburg, +cutting off its grounds from the river. A patch +in the paneling of the front door shows where a cannon +ball passed through at the time of the bombardment, +and the ball itself may still be seen embedded in the +woodwork of one of the rooms within.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p512jpg" id="p512jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p512.jpg" width="600" height="451" alt="The old Klein house, standing amid lawns and old-fashioned gardens on the bluff overlooking the river" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The old Klein house, standing amid lawns and old-fashioned gardens on the bluff overlooking the river</span> +</div> + +<p>And there are other patches. Near the old courthouse, +which rears itself so handsomely at the summit +of a series of terraces leading up from the street, are a +number of old sand roads which must be to-day almost +as they were in the heyday of the river's glory, when +the region in which the courthouse stands was the principal +part of the city—the days of heavy drinking and +gambling, dueling, slave markets, and steamboat races. +These streets are not the streets of a city, but of a small +town. So, too, where Adams Street crosses Grove, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span> +has the appearance of a country lane, the road represented +by a pair of wheel tracks running through the +grass; but Cherry Street, only a block distant, is built up +with city houses and has a good asphalt pavement and +a trolley line.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII<br /> +<br /> +THE BAFFLING MISSISSIPPI</h2> + + +<p>As inevitably as water flows down the hills of +Vicksburg to the river, the visitor's thoughts +flow down always to the great spectacular, historic, +mischievous, dominating stream.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p485jpg" id="p485jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p485.jpg" width="600" height="410" alt="As water flows down the hills of Vicksburg to the river, so the visitor's thoughts flow down to the great spectacular, +mischievous, dominating stream" title="" /> +<span class="caption">As water flows down the hills of Vicksburg to the river, so the visitor's thoughts flow down to the great spectacular, +mischievous, dominating stream</span> +</div> + +<p>Mark Twain, in that glorious book, "Life on the +Mississippi," declared, in speaking of the eternal problems +of the Mississippi, that as there are not enough +citizens of Louisiana to take care of all the theories +about the river at the rate of one theory per individual, +each citizen has two theories. That is the case to-day +as it was when Mark Twain was a pilot. I have heard +half a dozen prominent men, some of them engineers, +state their views as to what should be done. Each view +seemed sound, yet all were at variance.</p> + +<p>Consider, for example, that part of the river lying between +Vicksburg and the mouth. Here, quite aside +from the problem as to the hands in which river-control +work should be vested—a very great problem in itself—three +separate and distinct physical problems are presented.</p> + +<p>From Vicksburg to Red River Landing there are +swift currents which deposit silt only at the edge of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span> +bank, or on sand bars. From Red River Landing to +New Orleans the problem is different; here the channel +is much improved, and slow currents at the sides of the +river, between the natural river bank and the levee, deposit +silt in the old "borrow pits"—pits from which the +earth was dug for the building of the levees—filling +them up, whereas, farther up the river, the borrow pits, +instead of filling up, are likely to scour, undermining +the levee. From New Orleans to the head of the Passes—these +being the three main channels by which the river +empties into the Gulf—the banks between the natural +river bed and the levees build up with silt much more +rapidly than at any other point on the entire stream; +here there are no sand bars, and the banks cave very +little. In this part of the river it is not current, but +wind, which forms the great problem, for the winds are +terrific at certain times of year, and when they blow +violently against the current, waves are formed which +wash out the levees.</p> + +<p>This is the barest outline of three chief physical problems +with which river engineers must contend. There +are countless others which have to be met in various +ways. In some places the water seeps through, under +the levee, and bubbles up, like a spring, from the ground +outside. This, if allowed to continue, soon undermines +the levee and causes a break. The method of fighting +such a seepage is interesting. When the water begins +to bubble up, a hollow tower of sand-filled sacks is built +up about the place where it comes from the ground, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span> +when this tower has raised the level of the water within +it to that of the river, the pressure is of course removed, +on the siphon principle.</p> + +<p>As river-control work is at present handled, there is +no centralization of authority, and friction, waste, and +politics consequently play a large part.</p> + +<p>Consider, for example, the situation in the State of +Louisiana. Here control is, broadly speaking, in the +hands of three separate bodies: (1) the United States +army engineer, who disburses the money appropriated +by Congress for levees and bank revetment, working +under direction of the Mississippi River Commission; +(2) the State Board of Engineers, which disburses +Louisiana State funds wherever it sees fit, and which, +incidentally, does not use, in its work, the same specifications +as are used by the Government; and (3) the +local levee boards, of which there are eight in Louisiana, +one to each river parish—a parish being what is elsewhere +called a county. Each of these eight boards +has authority as to where parish money shall be spent +within its district, and it may be added that this last +group (considering the eight boards as a unit) has the +largest sum to spend on river work.</p> + +<p>The result of this division of authority creates chaos, +and has built up a situation infinitely worse than was +faced by General Goethals when Congress attempted to +divide control in the building of the Panama Canal. It +will be remembered that, in that case, a commission was +appointed, but that Roosevelt circumvented Congress by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span> +making General Goethals head of the commission with +full powers.</p> + +<p>While the canal was in course of construction, General +Goethals appeared before the Senate Committee on +Commerce. When asked what he knew of levee building +and work on the Mississippi, he replied:</p> + +<p>"I don't know a single, solitary thing about the work +on the Mississippi except that it is being carried on under +the annual appropriation system. If we had that +system to hamper us, the Panama Canal would not be +completed on time and within the estimate, as it will +be. That system leaves engineers in uncertainty as to +how much they may plan to do in the year ahead of +them. Big works cannot be completed economically, +either as to time or money, unless the man who is making +the plan can proceed upon the theory that the money +will be forthcoming as fast as he can economically spend +it."</p> + +<p>In view of the foregoing, I cannot myself claim to be +free from river theory. It seems to me clear that the +Mississippi should be under exclusive Federal control +from source to mouth; that the various commissions +should be abolished, and that the whole matter should +be in the hands of the chief of United States Engineers, +who would have ample funds with which to carry on +work of a permanent character.</p> + +<p>As one among countless items pointing to the need +of Federal control, consider the case of the Tensas Levee +Board, one of the eight local boards in Louisiana. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span> +board does not build any levees whatsoever in the +State of Louisiana, but does all its work with Louisiana +money, in the State of Arkansas, where it has +constructed, and maintains, eighty-two miles of levees, +protecting the northeastern corner of Louisiana from +floods which would originate in Arkansas. These same +levees, however, also protect large tracts of land in Arkansas, +for which protection the inhabitants of Arkansas +do not pay one cent, knowing that their Louisiana +neighbors are forced, for their own safety, to do the +work.</p> + +<p>Cairo, Illinois, is the barometer of the river's rise +and fall, the gage at that point being used as the basis +for estimates for the entire river below Cairo. These +estimates are made by computations which are so accurate +that Vicksburg, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans +know, days or even weeks in advance, when to expect +high water, and within a few inches of the precise height +the floods will reach.</p> + +<p>Some years since, the United States engineer in charge +of a river district embracing a part of Louisiana, notified +the local levee boards that unusually high water +might be expected on a certain date and that several +hundred miles of levees would have to be "capped" in +order to prevent overflow. The local boards in turn notified +the planters, in sections where capping was necessary.</p> + +<p>One of the planters so notified was an old Cajun—Cajun +being a corruption of the word "Acadian," denot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span>ing +those persons of French descent driven from Acadia, +in Canada, by the British many years ago. This old +man did not believe that the river would rise as high as +predicted and was not disposed to cap his levee.</p> + +<p>"But," said the member of the local levee board, who +interviewed him, "the United States engineer says you +will have to put two twelve-inch planks, one above the +other, on top of your levee, and back them with earth, or +else the water will come over."</p> + +<p>At last the old fellow consented.</p> + +<p>Presently the floods came. The water mounted, +mounted, mounted. Soon it was halfway up the lower +plank; then it rose to the upper one. When it reached +the middle of that plank the Cajun became alarmed and +called upon the local levee board for help to raise the +capping higher still.</p> + +<p>"No," said the local board member who had given +him the original warning, "that will not be necessary. +I have just talked to the United States engineer. He +says the water will drop to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The old man was skeptical, however, and was not satisfied +until the board member agreed that in case the +flood failed to abate next day, as predicted, the board +should do the extra capping. This settled, a nail was +driven into the upper plank to mark the water's height.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, on the following morning the river had +dropped away from the nail, and thereafter it continued +to fall.</p> + +<p>After watching the decline for several days, the Ca<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span>jun, +very much puzzled, called on his friend, the local +levee board member, to talk the matter over.</p> + +<p>"Say," he demanded, "what kinda man dis United +States engineer is, anyhow? Firs' he tell when de water +comes. Den he tell jus' how high she comes. Den he +tell jus' when she's agoin' to fall. What kinda man is +dat, anyhow? Is he been one Voodoo?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The spirit of the people of Arkansas, Mississippi, and +Louisiana, who live, in flood time, in the precarious +safety afforded by the levees, is characterized by the +same optimistic fatalism that is to be found among the +inhabitants of the slopes of Vesuvius in time of eruption.</p> + +<p>One night, a good many years ago, I ascended Vesuvius +at such a time, and I remember well a talk I had +with a man who gave me wine and sausage in his house, +far up on the mountain side, at about two o'clock that +morning.</p> + +<p>Seventeen streams of lava were already flowing +down, and signs of imminent disaster were at hand.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you afraid to stay here with your family?" +I asked the man.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied. "Three times I have seen it worse +than this. I have lived here always, and"—with a good +Italian smile—"it is evident, signore, that I am still +alive."</p> + +<p>Less than a week later I read in a newspaper that +this man's house, which was known as Casa Bianca, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span>gether +with his vineyards and his precious wine cellars, +tunneled into the mountain side, had been obliterated by +a stream of lava.</p> + +<p>Precisely as he went about his affairs when destruction +threatened, so do the planters along the Mississippi. +But there is this difference: against Vesuvius no precaution +can avail; whereas, in the case of a Mississippi +flood, foresight may save life and property. For instance, +many planters build mounds large enough to accommodate +their barns, and all their live stock. Likewise, +when floods are coming, they construct false floors +in their houses, elevating their furniture above high-water +mark, so that, if the whole house is not carried +away, they may return to something less than utter +ruin. It is the custom, also, to place ladders against +trees, in the branches of which provisions are kept in +time of danger, and to have skiffs, containing food and +water, ready on the galleries of the houses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII<br /> +<br /> +OLD RIVER DAYS</h2> + + +<p>Among the honored citizens of Vicksburg, at the +time of our visit, were a number of old steamboat +men who knew the river in its golden days; +among them, Captain "Mose" Smith, Captain Tom +Young, Captain W. S. ("Billy") Jones, and Captain S. H. +Parisot—the latter probably the oldest surviving +Mississippi River captain.</p> + +<p>We were sent to see Captain Parisot at his house, +where he received us kindly, entertained us for an hour +or more with reminiscences, and showed us a most interesting +collection of souvenirs of the river, including +photographs of famous boats, famous deck loads of cotton, +and famous characters: among the latter the celebrated +rivals, Captain John W. Cannon of the <i>Robert +E. Lee</i> and Captain Thomas P. Leathers of the <i>Natchez</i>. +Captain Parisot knew both these men well, and was himself +aboard the <i>Lee</i> at the time of her famous race with +the <i>Natchez</i> from New Orleans to St. Louis.</p> + +<p>"We left New Orleans 3½ minutes ahead of the +<i>Natchez</i>," said Captain Parisot, "made the run to Vicksburg +in 24 hours and 28 minutes, beat her to Cairo by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</a></span> +1 hour and 12 minutes, and to St. Louis by more than 3 +hours."</p> + +<p>Captain Parisot's father was a soldier under Napoleon +I, and moved to Warren County, Mississippi, +after having been wounded at Moscow. He built, at +the foot of Main Street, Vicksburg, the first brick house +that city had.</p> + +<p>"There was a law in France," said the captain, "that +any citizen absent from the country for thirty-five years +lost all claim to property. My father's people were +pretty well off, so in '42 he started back, but he was +taken ill and died in New Orleans."</p> + +<p>Captain Parisot was born in 1828, and in 1847 began +"learning the river." In 1854 he became part owner of +a boat, and three years later purchased one of his +own.</p> + +<p>"I bought her in Cincinnati," he said. Then, reflectively, +he added: "There was a good deal of drinking +in those days. When I brought her down on her first +trip I had 183 tons of freight, and 500 barrels of whisky, +from Cincinnati, for one little country store—Barksdale +& McFarland's, at Yazoo City."</p> + +<p>"There was a good deal of gambling, too, wasn't +there?" one of us suggested.</p> + +<p>"There was indeed," smiled the old captain. "Every +steamboat was a gambling house, and there used to be +big games before the war."</p> + +<p>"How big?"</p> + +<p>"Well," he returned, "as Captain Leathers once put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</a></span> +it, it used to be 'nigger ante and plantation limit.' And +that's no joke about playing for niggers either. Those +old planters would play for anything. I've known people +to get on a boat at Yazoo City to come to Vicksburg, +and get in a game, and never get off at Vicksburg +at all—just go back to Yazoo; yes, and come down +again, to keep the game going.</p> + +<p>"There was a saloon called the Exchange near our +house in Yazoo, and I remember once my father got +into a game, there, with a gambler named Spence +Thrift. That was before the war. Thrift was a terrible +stiff bluffer. When he got ready to clean up, +he'd shove up his whole pile. Well, he did that to my +father. Thrift's pile was twenty-two hundred dollars, +and all my father had in front of him was eight hundred. +But he owned a young negro named Calvin, so he called +Calvin, and told him: 'Here, boy! Jump up on the +table.' That equalled the gambler's pile; and it finished +him—he threw down his hand, beaten.</p> + +<p>"Business in those times was done largely on friendship. +It used to be said that I 'owned' the Yazoo River +when I was running my line. I knew everybody up +there. They were my friends, and they gave me their +business for that reason, and also because I brought the +cotton down here to Vicksburg, and reshipped it from +here on, down the river. It was considered an advantage +to reship cotton because moving it from one boat to +another knocked the mud off the bales.</p> + +<p>"There used to be some enormous cargoes of cotton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[Pg 511]</a></span> +carried. The largest boat on the river was the <i>Henry +Frank</i>, owned by Frank Hicks of Memphis. She ran +between Memphis and New Orleans, and on one trip +carried 9226 bales. Those were the old-style bales, of +course. They weighed 425 to 450 pounds each, as +against 550 to 600 pounds, which is the weight of a bale +to-day, now that powerful machinery is used to make +them. The heavy bale came into use partly to beat +transportation charges, as rates were not made by +weight, but at so much per bale.</p> + +<p>"The land up the Yazoo belonged to the State, and +the State sold it for $1.25 per acre. The fellows that +got up there first weren't any too anxious to see new +folks coming in and entering land. Used to try all kinds +of schemes to get them out.</p> + +<p>"There were two brothers up there named Parker. +One of them was a surveyor—we called him 'Baldy'—and +the other was lumbering, getting timber out of the +cypress breaks and rafting it down. Almost all the +timber used from Vicksburg to New Orleans came out +of there.</p> + +<p>"One time a man came up the Yazoo to take up land +and went to stop with Baldy Parker. When they sat +down to dinner Baldy took some flour and sprinkled it +all over his meat.</p> + +<p>"'What's that?' asked the stranger.</p> + +<p>"'Quinine,' says Baldy. 'Haven't you got any?'</p> + +<p>"'No,' says the fellow; 'what would I want it for?'</p> + +<p>"'You'll find out if you go out there in the swamps,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[Pg 512]</a></span> +Baldy tells him. 'It's full of malaria. We eat quinine +on everything.'</p> + +<p>"The fellow was quiet through the rest of the meal.</p> + +<p>"Pretty soon they got up to go out, and Baldy took up +a pair of stovepipes.</p> + +<p>"'What do you do with them pipes?' asks the stranger.</p> + +<p>"'Wear 'em, of course,' says Baldy. 'Haven't you +got any?'</p> + +<p>"'No,' says the fellow. 'What for?'</p> + +<p>"'Why,' says Baldy, 'the rattlesnakes out there will +bite the legs right off of you.'</p> + +<p>"With that the fellow had enough. He didn't go +any farther, but turned around and took the boat down +the river."</p> + +<p>In all his years as captain and line owner on the river, +Captain Parisot never lost a vessel. "I never insured +against sinking," he told us. "Just against fire. But +I got the best pilots I could hire. In all I built twenty-seven +steamboats. I had $150,000 worth of boats when +I sold my line in 1880. After I sold they did lose some +boats."</p> + +<p>Later we saw Captain "Billy" Jones, a much younger +man than Captain Parisot, yet old enough to have known +the river in its prime. Captain Jones deserted the river +years ago, and is now a golfer with a prosperous banking +business on the side.</p> + +<p>"Captain Parisot was right when he said business on +the river was done largely on friendship," said Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</a></span> +Jones. "Also business used to be turned down for the +opposite reason. There was a historic case of that in +this town.</p> + +<p>"Captain Tom Leathers was in the habit of refusing +to take freight on the <i>Natchez</i> if he didn't like the +shipper or the consignee. For some reason or other he +had it in for the firm of Lamkin & Eggleston, wholesale +grocers here in Vicksburg, and declined their freight. +They sued him in the Circuit Court and got judgment. +Leathers carried the case to the Supreme Court, but the +verdict was sustained and he had to pay $2500 damages. +He was furious.</p> + +<p>"'What's the use,' he said, 'of being a steamboat captain +if you can't tell people to go to hell?'"</p> + +<p>It is the lamentable fact, and I must face it, and so +must you if you intend to read on, that the language +of the river was rough. At least ninety-nine out of +every hundred river stories are, therefore, not printable +in full. Either they must be vitiated by deletions, or +interpreted at certain points by blanks and "blanketys." +As for me, I prefer the blankety-blanks and I consider +that this method of avoiding the complete truth relieves +me of all responsibility. And of course, if that is +so, it absolves, at the same time, good Captain "Billy" +Jones, or any one else who may have happened to tell me +the stories.</p> + +<p>Both Leathers and Cannon were large, powerful men, +and they always hated each other. Leathers was never +popular, for he was very arrogant, but he had a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span> +reputation for pushing the <i>Natchez</i> through on time. +Also, such friends as he did have always stuck by him.</p> + +<p>Something of the feeling between the two old river +characters is revealed in the following story related by +Captain Jones:</p> + +<p>"Ed Snodgrass, who lived in St. Joseph, La., was a +friend of both Cannon and Leathers. When the <i>Natchez</i> +would arrive at St. Joseph, he would go and give +Leathers news about Cannon, and when the <i>Lee</i> came in +he would see Cannon and tell him about Leathers.</p> + +<p>"Well, one time Leathers was laid up with a carbuncle +on his back, and brought a doctor up on the boat +with him. So, of course, Ed Snodgrass told Cannon +about it when he came along.</p> + +<p>"'A carbuncle, eh?' said Cannon.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said Ed.</p> + +<p>"'Well,' said Cannon, 'you tell the old blankety-blank-blank +that I had a brother—a bigger, stronger +man than I am—and he had one o' them things and died +in two weeks.'</p> + +<p>"Soon after that Cannon made a misstep when backing +the <i>Natchez</i> out, at Natchez, and fell, breaking his +collar bone. Of course Ed Snodgrass gave the news to +Leathers when he came along.</p> + +<p>"'Huh!' said Leathers. 'His collar bone, eh? You +tell the old blankety-blank-blank that I wish it had been +his blankety-blank neck!'"</p> + +<p>I asked Captain Jones for stories about gambling.</p> + +<p>"After the war," he said, "there weren't the big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[Pg 515]</a></span> +poker games there used to be. Mostly we had sucker +games then. There was a gambler named George +Duval who wrote a book—or, rather, he had somebody +write it for him, for he was a very ignorant fellow, and +began his life calking the seams of boats in a shipyard. +He had a partner who was known as 'Jew Mose,' who +used to dress like a rich planter. He wore a broad-brimmed +hat and a very elegant tail coat, and was a big, +handsome man.</p> + +<p>"After the boat left New Orleans, this 'Jew Mose' +would disguise himself with whiskers and goggles, go to +the barber shop and lay out his game. George Duval +and a fellow called 'Canada Bill' were the cappers. +They would bring in suckers, get their money, and generally +get off the boat about Baton Rouge.</p> + +<p>"Once when I was a clerk on the <i>Robert E. Lee</i>, +Duval got a young fellow in tow, and the young fellow +wanted to bet on the game, but he had a friend with him, +and his friend kept pulling him away.</p> + +<p>"Later, when Duval had given up the idea of getting +this young fellow's money, and closed up his game, he +appeared in the social hall of the boat with a small bag +held up to his face.</p> + +<p>"Somebody asked him what was in the bag.</p> + +<p>"'It's hot salt,' he said. 'I've got a toothache, and a +bag of hot salt is the best thing in the world for toothache.'</p> + +<p>"Presently, when he went to his stateroom to get +something, he left the bag of salt on the stove to heat it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[Pg 516]</a></span> +up. While he was gone somebody suggested, as a +joke, that they dump out the salt and fill the bag with +ashes, instead. So they did it. And when Duval came +back he held it up to his face again, and seemed perfectly +satisfied.</p> + +<p>"'How does it feel now?' one of the fellows asked.</p> + +<p>"'Fine,' said Duval. 'Hot salt is the best thing +going.'</p> + +<p>"At that, the man who had prevented the young fellow +from betting, down in the barber shop, earlier in the +day, offered to bet Duval a hundred dollars that the bag +didn't contain salt.</p> + +<p>"Duval took the bet and raised him back another hundred. +But the man had only fifty dollars left. However, +another fellow, standing in the crowd, put in the +extra fifty to make two hundred dollars a side.</p> + +<p>"Then Duval opened the bag, and it <i>was</i> salt. He +had changed the bags, and the fellows who worked up +the trick were his cappers."</p> + +<p>One of the old-time river gamblers was an individual, +blind in one eye, known as "One-eyed Murphy." Murphy +was an extremely artful manipulator of cards, and +made a business of cheating. One day, shortly after +the <i>Natchez</i> had backed out from New Orleans and got +under way, Marion Knowles, a picturesque gentleman +of the period, and one who had the reputation of being +polite even in the most trying circumstances, and no +matter how well he had dined, came in and stood for a +time as a spectator beside a table at which Murphy was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</a></span> +playing poker with some guileless planters. Mr. +Knowles was not himself guileless, and very shortly he +perceived that the one-eyed gambler was dealing himself +cards from the bottom of the pack. Thereupon he drew +his revolver from his pocket and rapping with it on the +table addressed the assembly:</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he said, speaking in courtly fashion, +"I regret to say that there is something wrong here. I +will not call any names, neither will I make any personal +allusions. <i>But if it doesn't stop, damn me if I don't +shoot his other eye out!</i>"</p> + +<p>I cannot drop the river, and stories of river gambling, +without referring to one more tale which is a +classic. It is a long story about a big poker game, and +to tell it properly one must know the exact words. I do +not know them, and therefore shall not attempt to tell +the whole story, but shall give you only the beginning.</p> + +<p>It is supposed to be told by a Virginian.</p> + +<p>"There was me," he says, "and another very distinguished +gentleman from Virginia and a gentleman from +Kentucky, and a man from Ohio, and a fellow from +New York, and a blankety-blank from Boston—"</p> + +<p>That is all I know of the story, but I can guess who +got the money in that game.</p> + +<p>Can't you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX<br /> +<br /> +WHAT MEMPHIS HAS ENDURED</h2> + + +<p>An article on Memphis, published in the year 1855, +gives the population of the place as about +13,000 (one quarter of the number slaves), and +calls Memphis "the most promising town in the Southwest." +It predicts that a railroad will some day connect +Memphis with Little Rock, Arkansas, and that a direct +line between Memphis and Cincinnati may even be constructed. +This article begins the history of Memphis +in the year 1820, when the place had 50 inhabitants. +In 1840 the settlement had grown to 1,700, and fifteen +years thereafter it was almost eight times that +size.</p> + +<p>Your Memphian, however, is not at all content to +date from 1820. He begins the history of Memphis +with the date May 8, 1541—a time when Henry VIII +was establishing new matrimonial records in England, +when Queen Elizabeth was a little girl, and Shakespeare, +Bacon, Galileo and Cromwell were yet unborn. +For that was the date when a Spanish gentleman bearing +some personal resemblance to "Uncle Joe" Cannon—though +he was younger, had black hair and beard, +was differently dressed and did not chew long black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[Pg 519]</a></span> +cigars—arrived at the lower Chickasaw Bluffs, from +which the city of Memphis now overlooks the Mississippi +River. This gentleman was Hernando De Soto, +and with his soldiers and horses he had marched from +Tampa Bay, Florida, hunting for El Dorado, but finding +instead, a lot of poor villages peopled by savages +whom he killed in large numbers, having been brought +up to that sort of work by Pizarro, under whom he +served in the conquest of Peru. It seems to be well +established, through records left by De Soto's secretary, +and other men who were with him, and through landmarks +mentioned by them, that De Soto and his command +camped where Memphis stands, crossed the Mississippi +at this point in boats which they built for the +purpose, and marched on to an Indian village situated +on the mound, a few miles distant, which now gives +Mound City, Arkansas, its name. One hundred and +thirty-two years later Marquette passed by on his way +down the river, and nine years after him La Salle, but +so far as is known, neither stopped at the site of Memphis, +though they must have noticed as they passed, +that the river is narrower here than at any point within +hundreds of miles, and that the Chickasaw Bluffs afford +about as good a place for a settlement as may be found +along the reaches of the lower river, being high enough +for safety, and flat on top. The first white man known +to have visited the actual site of Memphis after De +Soto, was De Bienville, the French Governor of Louisiana, +who came in 1739. De Bienville found the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</a></span>Chickasaw +village where De Soto had found it two centuries +earlier; but whereas De Soto managed to avoid battle +with the inhabitants of this particular village, De Bienville +came to attack them. He fought them near their +village, was defeated, and retired to Mobile.</p> + +<p>Thus this part of the United States belonged first to +Spain, and then to France; but in 1762 France ceded +it back to Spain, and in the year following, Spain and +France together ceded their territory in the eastern part +of the continent to England. The next change came +with the Revolution, when the United States came into +being. The Spanish were, however, still in possession of +the vast territory of Louisiana, to the west of the Mississippi. +In 1795, Gayoso, Spanish Governor of Louisiana, +came across and built a fort on the east side of the +river, but was presently ousted by the United States. +In 1820, as has been said, the settlement of Memphis had +begun, one of the early proprietors having been Andrew +Jackson. Some of the first settlers wished to name the +place Jackson, in honor of the general, but Jackson himself, +it is said, decided on the name Memphis, because +the position of the town suggested that of ancient +Memphis, on the Nile.</p> + +<p>In 1857 Memphis got her first railroad—the Memphis +& Charleston—connecting her with Charleston, South +Carolina. About the time the road was completed there +were severe financial panics which held the city back; +also there was trouble, as in so many other river towns, +with hordes of gamblers and desperadoes. Judge J. P.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</a></span> +Young, in his "History of Memphis," tells of an interesting +episode of those times. There were two professional +gamblers, father and son, of the name of Able. +The father shot a man in a saloon brawl, and soon after, +the son committed a similar crime of violence. A great +mob started to take the younger Able out of jail and +lynch him, but one firm citizen, addressing them from the +balcony of a hotel, persuaded them to desist. Next day, +however, there was a mass meeting to discuss the case +of Able. At this meeting the hotheads prevailed, and +Able was taken from the jail by a mob of three thousand +men. When the noose was around his neck, and +he and his mother and sister were pleading that his life +be spared, the same man who had previously prevented +mob action, stepped boldly up, cut the rope from Abel's +neck, and assisted him to fly, standing between him and +the mob, fighting the mob off, and finally getting Able +back into the jail. When the mob stormed the jail, +furious at having been circumvented by a single man, +the same powerful figure appeared at the jail door with +a pistol, and, incredible though it seems, actually held +the mob at bay until it finally dispersed. This man was +Nathan Bedford Forrest, later the brilliant Confederate +cavalry leader. Forrest and his wife are buried in +Memphis, in a square called Forrest Park, under a fine +equestrian monument, by C. H. Niehaus.</p> + +<p>Before the war Forrest was a member of the slave-dealing +firm of Forrest & Maples, of Memphis. Subjoined +is a photographic reproduction of an advertise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[Pg 522]</a></span>ment +of this firm, which appeared in the Memphis City +Directory for 1855-6.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/534.png" width="400" height="697" alt="CITY DIRECTORY. 251 +-------------------- + +FORREST & MAPLES, +SLAVE DEALERS, + +87 Adams Street, +Between Second and Third, +MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE, + +Have constantly on hand the best selected assortment +of + +FIELD HANDS, HOUSE SERVANTS & MECHANICS, +at their Negro Mart, to be found in the city. +They are daily receiving from Virginia, Kentucky +and Missouri, fresh supplies of likely +Young Negroes. + +Negroes Sold on Commission, +and the highest market price always paid for +good stock. Their Jail is capable of containing +Three Hundred, and for comfort, neatness +and safety, is the best arranged of any in the +Union. Persons wishing to purchase, are invited +to examine their stock before purchasing +elsewhere. + +They have on hand at present, Fifty likely +young Negroes, comprising Field hands, Mechanics, +House and Body Servants, &c. + +" title="" /></div> + +<p>When the Civil War loomed close, sentiment in Memphis +was divided, but at a call for troops for the Union,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[Pg 523]</a></span> +the State of Tennessee balked, and soon after it seceded +from the Union and joined the Confederacy. Many +people believed, at that time, that if the entire South +united, the North would not dare fight. When the war +came, however, Memphis knew where she stood; it is +said that no city of the same size (22,600) furnished so +many men to the Confederate armies. In 1862, when +the Union forces got control of the river to the north +and the south of the city, it became evident that Memphis +was likely to be taken. A fleet of Union gunboats +came down and defeated the Confederate fleet in the +river before the city, while the populace lined the banks +and looked on. The city, being without military protection, +then surrendered, and was occupied by troops +under Sherman. Nor, with the exception of one period +of a few hours' duration, did it ever again come under +Confederate control. That was when Forrest made his +famous raid in 1864, an event which exhibited not only +the dash and hardihood of that intrepid leader, but also +his strategy and his sardonic humor.</p> + +<p>General A. J. Smith, with 13,000 Union soldiers was +marching on the great grain district of central Mississippi, +and was forcing Forrest, who had but 3,500 men, +to the southward. Unable to meet Smith's force on +anything like equal terms, Forrest conceived the idea +of making a "run around the end" and striking at Memphis, +which was Smith's base. Taking 1,500 picked +men and horses, he executed a flanking movement over +night, and before Smith knew he was gone, came career<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[Pg 524]</a></span>ing +into Memphis at dawn at the head of 500 galloping, +yelling men—many of them Memphis boys. There +were some 7,000 Union troops in and about Memphis at +this time, but they were surprised out of their slumbers, +and made no effective resistance. The only part of Forrest's +plan which miscarried was his scheme to capture +three leading Union officers, who were then stationed +in Memphis: Generals C. C. Washburn, S. A. Hurlbut +and R. P. Buckland. General Hurlbut's escape occurred +by reason of the fact that instead of having +passed the night at the old Gayoso Hotel, where he made +his headquarters, he happened to be visiting a brother +officer, elsewhere. General Washburn was warned by +a courier and made his escape in his nightclothes and +bare feet from the residence he occupied as headquarters, +running down alleys to the river, and thence along +under the bluff to the Union fortifications. Forrest's +men found the general's papers, uniform, hat, boots +and sword in his bedroom, and also found there Mrs. +Washburn. The only things they failed to find were +the general's nightshirt and the general himself, who +was inside it. General Buckland also avoided capture +by the narrowest margin. The soldiers first went to the +wrong house to look for him. That gave him time to +escape.</p> + +<p>It is recorded that, later in the day, under a flag of +truce, Forrest sent General Washburn his sword and +clothing with a humorous message, informing him, at +the same time, that he had 600 Federal prisoners with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span>out +shoes or clothing, and that he would like supplies +for them. The supplies, we are told, were promptly +forthcoming.</p> + +<p>Forrest waited until he was sure that news of the +raid had been telegraphed to General Smith in the field. +Then he cut the wires. Smith immediately came back +toward Memphis with his army, which was what Forrest +desired him to do. The Confederates then retired +from the immediate vicinity of the city.</p> + +<p>Judge Young, in his history, reports that when General +Hurlbut heard of the raid he exclaimed, "There it +goes again! They superseded me with Washburn because +I could not keep Forrest out of West Tennessee, +and Washburn cannot keep him out of his own bedroom!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After the War there was corruption and carpet-bag +rule in Memphis, and Forrest was again to the fore, +becoming "Grand Wizard" of the famous Ku Klux +Klan, the mysterious secret organization designed to intimidate +Scalawags, Carpet-baggers and negroes, whose +arrogance had become intolerable. General George W. +Gordon prepared the oath and ritual for the Klan, which +was founded in the town of Pulaski, Giles County, Tennessee. +General Forrest took the oath in 1866, in Room +10 of the old Maxwell House, at Nashville.</p> + +<p>It is my belief that the Ku Klux Klan has been a good +deal maligned. Many of its members were men of high +type. I have been told, for instance, that one southern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span> +gentleman who has since been in the cabinet of a President +of the United States, was active in the Ku Klux. +I withhold his name because the purposes of the Ku +Klux Klan, and the urgent need which called it into being, +are not yet fully understood in the North, and for +the further reason that depredations committed by other +bodies were frequently charged to the Ku Klux, giving +it a bad name. So far as I can discover the Ku Klux +endeavored to avoid violence where it could be avoided. +Its aim seems to have been to frighten negroes and bad +whites into behaving themselves or going away; though +sometimes, of course, bad characters had to be killed. +It must be remembered that the ballot was denied +former Confederate soldiers for quite a period after the +War, that they were not allowed to possess firearms, +and that, at the same time, negro troops were quartered +in the South. In many parts of the South the government +and the courts were in the hands of third-rate +Northerners (carpet-baggers) who had come down to +dominate the defeated section, and who used the Scalawags +(disloyal southern whites) and negroes for their +own purposes. Obviously this was outrageous, and +equally obviously, a proud people, even though defeated, +could not endure it. The service performed by the Ku +Klux Klan seems to have been comparable with that +rendered by the Vigilantes of early western days. +Something had to be done and the Klan did it.</p> + +<p>In 1869 General Forrest ordered the Klan to disband, +which it did; but owing to the fact that it was a secret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[Pg 527]</a></span> +organization, and that disguises had been used, it was an +easy matter for mobs, not actually associated with the +Ku Klux, to assume its costume and commit outrages in +its name.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In writing of Raleigh I referred to the post-bellum +activities of the Confederate cruiser <i>Shenandoah</i>. Captain +Dabney M. Scales, a distinguished citizen of Memphis, +was on the <i>Shenandoah</i>. Born in Orange County, +Virginia, in 1842, Captain Scales was appointed to the +Naval Academy by L. Q. C. Lamar. He was a classmate +of Captain Clark, later of the <i>Oregon</i>. When the +war broke out, young Scales was in his second year at +the Academy, but like most of the other southern cadets +he resigned and offered his services to the South. When +commissioned he was the youngest naval officer in the +Confederate service. Eight months after the War was +over, the <i>Shenandoah</i> was still cruising in the South +Seas, looking for Federal merchantmen. In January +1866, somewhere south of Australia, she overhauled the +British bark <i>Baracouta</i>, taking her for a Yankee man-o'-war +flying the British flag as a ruse. Young Scales +was sent in command of a boarding party, and was informed +by the skipper of the <i>Baracouta</i> that the Civil +War had terminated months and months ago. The +<i>Shenandoah</i> then made for Liverpool. In the meantime +a Federal court had ruled that her officers were +guilty of piracy—a hanging offense. Naturally, they +did not dare return to the United States. Young Scales<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[Pg 528]</a></span> +went to Mexico and remained there two years before +coming home. When the Spanish War came, Captain +Scales volunteered and was made navigating officer of a +naval vessel. At the time of our visit he was a practising +lawyer in Memphis, and was in command of Company +A of the Uniform Confederate Veterans, a body +of old heroes who go out every now and then and win +the first prize for the best drilled organization operating +Hardee's tactics.</p> + +<p>Another distinguished citizen of Memphis who has +lively recollections of the Civil War, is the Right Reverend +Thomas F. Gailor, Episcopal Bishop of Tennessee. +Bishop Gailor, who succeeded the famous Bishop Quintard, +is my ideal of everything an Episcopal bishop—or +I might even say a Church of England bishop—ought +to be. The Episcopal Church seems to me to have about +it more "style" than most other churches, and an Episcopal +bishop ought not to look the ascetic. He ought to +be well filled out, well dressed, well fed. He ought to +have a distinguished appearance, a ruddy complexion, +a good voice, and a lot of what we call "humanness"—including +humor. All these qualities Bishop Gailor has.</p> + +<p>In the bishop's study, in Memphis, hangs the sword +of his father, Major Frank M. Gailor, who commanded +the 33rd Mississippi Regiment. Major Gailor +was killed while giving a drink of water to a wounded +brother officer, and that officer, though dying, directed +a soldier to take the Major's sword and see that it +reached Mrs. Gailor, in Memphis, within the Union<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</a></span> +lines. A young woman, a Confederate spy, took the +sword, and wearing it next her body, brought it through +to Mrs. Gailor. Somehow or other it became known +that the widow had her husband's sword, and as the possession +of arms was prohibited to citizens, a corporal +and guard were sent to the house to search for it. They +found it between the mattresses of Mrs. Gailor's bed, +and confiscated it. Mrs. Gailor then went with another +lady to see General Washburn. Her friend started a +long harangue upon the injustice which had been done, +but Mrs. Gailor, seeing that the General was becoming +impatient, broke in saying: "General, soldiers came to +my house and took away my dead husband's sword. I +can't use it, nor can my little son. I want it back. You +would want your boy to have your sword, wouldn't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I would!" cried Washburn. "Thank +God for a woman who can say what she has to say, and +be done with it!"</p> + +<p>The sword was returned.</p> + +<p>In the Spring of 1863, when Bishop Gailor was a +child of about seven years, he accompanied his mother +on a journey by wagon from Memphis to Jackson, Mississippi. +The only other member of the party was a +lady who had driven in the same wagon from Jackson +to Kentucky, to get the body of her brother, a Confederate +soldier who had been killed there. The coffin containing +the remains was carried in the wagon. When +it was known in Memphis that Mrs. Gailor was going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[Pg 530]</a></span> +through the lines, a great many people came to her with +letters which they wished to send to friends. Mrs. +Gailor sewed many of the letters into the clothing of the +little boy. ("I remember it well," said the bishop. "I +felt like a mummy.") Also one of Forrest's spies came +with important papers, asking if she would undertake +to deliver them. Only by very clever manipulation did +Mrs. Gailor get the papers through, for everything was +carefully searched. After they had passed out of the +northern lines they met one of Forrest's pickets. Mrs. +Gailor told him that she had papers for the general, and +before long Forrest rode up with his staff and received +them. Then the two women and the little boy, with +their tragic burden in the wagon, drove along on their +two-hundred mile journey. And later, when Jackson +was bombarded, they were there.</p> + +<p>Before the war Major Gailor had been editor of the +Memphis "Avalanche," a paper which was suppressed +when the Union troops took the town. After the War +the "Avalanche" was started up again, and had a stormy +time of it, because it criticized a Carpet-bag judge who +had come to Memphis. In 1889 the "Avalanche" was +consolidated with the "Appeal," another famous ante-bellum +journal, surviving to-day in the "Commercial-Appeal," +a strong newspaper, edited by one of the ablest +journalists in the South, Mr. C. P. J. Mooney.</p> + +<p>When Memphis was captured the "Appeal" would +have been suppressed, as the "Avalanche" was, had it +been there. But when it became evident that Memphis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[Pg 531]</a></span> +would fall, Mr. S. C. Toof (later a well-known book +publisher) who was then connected with the "Appeal," +packed up the press and other equipment and shipped +them to Grenada, Mississippi, where Mr. B. F. Dill, +editor of the paper, continued to bring it out. When +Grenada was threatened, a few months later, Mr. Dill +moved with his newspaper equipment to Birmingham, +where for a second time he resumed publication. His +next move was to Atlanta. There, when he could not +get news-print, he used wallpaper, or any sort of paper +he could lay his hands on. When Sherman took Atlanta +the "Appeal" moved again, this time to Columbus, +Georgia, where, at last, it was captured, and its press +destroyed. Wherever it went it remained the "Memphis +Daily Appeal," with correspondents in all southern +armies. No wonder a paper with such vitality as that, +has survived and become great!</p> + +<p>Poor Memphis! After the War she had Reconstruction +to contend with; after Reconstruction, financial difficulties; +after that, pestilence. In 1873, when the population +of the city was about 40,000, and there had been +a long period of hard times, yellow fever broke out. +The condition of the city was exceedingly unsanitary, +and after the pestilence had passed, was allowed to remain +so, though at that time the origin of yellow fever +was, of course, not known, and it was assumed that the +disease resulted from lack of proper sanitation.</p> + +<p>In 1878 there was another yellow fever epidemic. +The first case developed August 2, but the news was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[Pg 532]</a></span> +suppressed until the middle of the month, by which time +a number of cases had come down. The day after the +news became known 22 new cases were reported. Terror +spread through the town. Hordes of people tried +to flee at once. Families left their houses with the doors +wide open and silver standing on the sideboards. People +flocked to the trains; when they could not get seats they +stood in the aisles or clambered onto the roofs of the +cars; if they could not get in at car doors they climbed +in through the windows, and sometimes, when the father +of a family was refused admittance to a crowded +car, he would force a way in for his wife and children +at the pistol's point.</p> + +<p>In the first week of the panic there were 1,500 cases, +with an average of ten deaths daily; in the next week, +3,000 cases with fifty deaths daily, and so on into September +during which month there was an average of +8,000 to 10,000 cases with about two hundred deaths a +day.</p> + +<p>Not every one fled, however. Leading citizens remained, +forming a relief committee, and some brave +helpers came from outside. Thus the sick and needy +were attended to, though of course many of the volunteers +contracted the disease and perished.</p> + +<p>Added to the epidemic there was, as so often happens +in such circumstances, an outbreak of thievery and other +crime, which had to be put down. It is related that in +the height of the epidemic hardly any one was seen upon +the streets save an occasional nurse, doctor, or other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span> +member of the relief committee; household pets starved +to death or fled the city; among the newspapers the +staffs were so reduced that only two or three men were +left in each office, and in the case of the "Appeal," but +one, that one Colonel J. M. Keating, the proprietor, who +stuck to Memphis and for a time wrote, set up and +printed the paper without assistance, feeling that refugees +must have news from the city.</p> + +<p>The next year the epidemic came again, but in less +violent form, there being, this time, but 2,000 cases. +However the effect was cumulative. Memphis dropped +from a city of nearly 50,000 to one of 20,000 and the +reputation of the place was such that a bill was proposed +in Congress to purchase the ground on which the +city stood and utterly destroy it as unfit for human +habitation.</p> + +<p>Stricken as she was, however, Memphis "came back." +A great campaign for sanitation was begun; city sewage-disposal +was installed, and after a few years, artesian +wells were bored for a new water supply. And though, +as we now know, yellow fever does not come from the +same sources as typhoid, nevertheless the new sanitary +measures did greatly reduce the city's death rate.</p> + +<p>Memphis, like all other cities, has her troubles now +and then, but since the great pestilence there has never +been a real disaster. The city has grown and thriven. +Indeed, she had become so used to growing fast that +when, in 1910, the Federal census gave her but 131,000, +she indignantly demanded a recount, for she had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</a></span> +talking to herself, and had convinced herself that she had +a great many more than that number of inhabitants. +However, the census was taken again, and the first count +proved accurate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[Pg 535]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L<br /> +<br /> +MODERN MEMPHIS</h2> + + +<p>To be charmed by the social side of a city, yet to +find little to admire in its physical aspect, is like +knowing a brilliant and beautiful woman whose +housekeeping is not of the neatest. If one were compelled +to discuss such a woman, and wished to do so sympathetically +but with truth, one might avoid brutal comment +on the condition of her rooms by likening them to +other rooms elsewhere: rooms which one knew to be +untidy, but which the innocent listener might not understand +to be so. By this device one may even appear to +pay a compliment, while, in reality, indicating the grim +truth. In such a case, I, for example, might say that +this supposititious lady's rooms reminded me of those +I occupied on the second floor of the famous restaurant +called Antoine's, in New Orleans; whereupon the +reader, knowing the high reputation of Antoine's cuisine, +and never having seen the apartments to which I +refer, might assume an implication very favorable.</p> + +<p>Let me say, then, that Memphis reminds me of St. +Louis. Like St. Louis, Memphis has charming society. +Like St. Louis she has pretty girls. Like St. Louis she +is hospitable. And without particularizing too much, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[Pg 536]</a></span> +may say that her streets remind me of St. Louis streets, +that many of her houses remind me of St. Louis houses, +and that her levee, with its cobbled surface sloping +down to the yellow, muddy Mississippi, the bridges in +the distance, the strange looking river steamers loading +and unloading below, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, is +much like the St. Louis levee. So, if the reader happens +to be unfamiliar with the physical appearance of +St. Louis, he may, at all events, perceive that I have +likened Memphis to a much larger city—thus, (it seems +fair to suppose) paying Memphis a handsome tribute.</p> + +<p>Memphis has a definite self-given advantage over St. +Louis in possessing a pretty little park at the heart of +the city, overlooking the river; also she has the advantage +of lying to the east of the great stream, instead +of to the west, so that, in late afternoon, when the +sun splashes down into the mysterious deserted reaches +of the Arkansas flats, across the way, sending splatterings +of furious color across the sky, one may seat oneself +on a bench in the park and witness a stupendous +natural masterpiece. A sunset over the sea can be no +more wonderful than a sunset over this terrible, beautiful, +inspiring, enigmatic domineering flood. Or one +may see the sunset from the readingroom of the Cossitt +Library, with its fine bay window commanding the +river almost as though it were the window of a pilot-house.</p> + +<p>The Cossitt Library is only one of several free libraries +in the city. There is, for example, a free library<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</a></span> +in connection with the Goodwyn Institute, an establishment +having an endowment of half a million dollars, +left to Memphis by the late William A. Goodwyn. +The Goodwyn Institute provides courses of free lectures, +by well-known persons, on a great variety of +subjects. The library is designed to add to the educational +work. Books are not, however, loaned, as they +are from the Cossitt Library, an institution to which I +found myself returning more than once; now for a +book, now to look at the interesting collection of mound-builder +relics contained in an upper room, now merely +because it is a place of such reposeful hospitality that +I liked to make excuses to go back.</p> + +<p>The library, a romanesque building of Michigan red +sandstone, is by a southern architect, but is in the style +of Richardson, and is one of the few buildings in that +style which I have ever liked. It was given to Memphis +as a memorial to Frederick H. Cossitt, by his three +daughters, Mrs. A. D. Juilliard, Mrs. Thomas Stokes, +and Mrs. George E. Dodge, all of New York. Mr. +Cossitt was born in Granby, Connecticut, but as a young +man moved South and in 1842 adopted Memphis as +his home, residing there until 1861. At the outbreak +of the Civil War he made an amicable division of his +business with his partner, and removed to New York, +where he resided until the time of his death. Finding +among his papers a memorandum indicating that he had +intended to endow a library in Memphis, his daughters +carried out his wish.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span></p> + +<p>Having already spoken of a number of Memphis' +interesting citizens, I find myself left with an ill-assorted +trio of names yet to be mentioned, because, different +as they are, each of the three supplies a definite +part of the character of the city. First, then, Memphis +has the honor of possessing what not many of our +cities possess: a man who stands high among the world's +artist-bookbinders. This gentleman is Mr. Otto Zahn, +executive head of the publishing house of S. C. Toof & +Co. Mr. Zahn himself has done some famous bindings, +and books bound by him are to be found in some +of the finest private libraries in the land. Until a few +years ago he conducted an art-bindery in connection with +the Toof company's business, but it was unprofitable +and finally had to be given up.</p> + +<p>Second, to descend to a more popular form of art, +but one from which the revenue is far more certain, +Memphis has, in W. C. Handy, a negro ragtime composer +whose dance tunes are widely known. Among +his compositions may be mentioned the "Memphis +Blues," the "St. Louis Blues," "Mr. Crump," and "Joe +Turner." "Mr. Crump" is named in honor of a former +mayor of Memphis who was ousted for refusing to +enforce the prohibition law; "Joe Turner" is the name +of a negro pianist who plays for Memphis to dance—as +Handy also does. Most of Handy's tunes are negro +"rags" in fox-trot time, and they are so effective that +Memphis dances them generally in preference to the one +step.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[Pg 539]</a></span></p> + +<p>My third celebrity is of a more astounding type. +While in Memphis I called aboard the river steamer +<i>Grand</i>, and had a talk with Mrs. Nettie Johnson, who is +captain of that craft. Some one told me that Mrs. +Johnson was the only woman steamboat captain in the +world, but she informed me that at Helena, Arkansas, +there lives another Mrs. Johnson—no relative of hers—who +follows the same calling.</p> + +<p>The steamer <i>Grand</i> is almost entirely a Johnson family +affair. Mrs. Johnson is captain; her husband, I. S. +Johnson is pilot (though Mrs. Johnson has, in addition +to her master's license, a pilot's license, and often takes +the wheel); her elder son, Emery, is clerk; Emery's wife +is assistant clerk, while Arthur, the captain's younger +son, is engineer. Russell Johnson, Mrs. Johnson's +grandson, is the only member of the family I saw aboard +the boat who does not take part in running it. Russell +was five years old when I met him, but that was nearly a +year ago, and by now he is probably chief steward, boatswain, +or ship's carpenter.</p> + +<p>The regular route of the <i>Grand</i> is from Memphis to +Mhoon's Landing, on the Arkansas River, a round trip +of 120 miles, with thirty landings.</p> + +<p>I asked Mrs. Johnson if she had ever been shipwrecked. +Indeed she had! Her former ship, the <i>Nettie Johnson</i>, +struck thin ice one night in the Arkansas +River and went down.</p> + +<p>"What did you do?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I reached after an iron ring," she replied, "and clumb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[Pg 540]</a></span> +on up into the rigging. She went down about four-thirty +<span class="smcap">a. m.</span> and we stayed on her till daylight; then +we all swum ashore. I tell you it was cold! There +was icicles on my dress; my son Emery put his arms +around me to keep me warm, and his clothes froze onto +mine."</p> + +<p>"How long a swim was it to shore?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh," put in her husband, "it didn't amount to nothing. +She was only swimming about two minutes."</p> + +<p>This statement, however, was repudiated by the captain. +"Two minutes, my foot!" she flung back at her +spouse. "It was more than that, all right!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Johnson has done flood rescue work for the Government, +with the <i>Grand</i>. In the spring previous to +our visit she rescued sixty families from one plantation, +besides towing barge-loads of provisions to various +points on the Mississippi and Arkansas rivers.</p> + +<p>Captaining and piloting a river boat are clearly good +for the health. Mrs. Johnson looks too young to be a +grandmother. Her skin is clear, her cheeks are rosy, +her brown eyes flash and twinkle, her voice, somewhat +hoarse from shouting commands, is deep and strong, and +her laugh is like the hearty laugh of a big man.</p> + +<p>"Are you a suffragist?" I asked her.</p> + +<p>"Not on your life!" was her reply.</p> + +<p>"Now, what do you want to talk like that for?" objected +her husband. "You know women ought to be +allowed to vote."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," she returned firmly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</a></span></p> + +<p>At that her daughter-in-law, the assistant clerk of the +<i>Grand</i>, took up the cudgels.</p> + +<p>"Of course they ought to vote!" she insisted. "You +know <i>you</i> can do just as good as a man can do!"</p> + +<p>"No," asseverated Captain Nettie. "Women ought +to stay home and tend to their families."</p> + +<p>"As you do?" I suggested, mischievously.</p> + +<p>"That's all right!" she flung back. "I stayed home +and raised my family until it was big enough to do its +own navigating. Then I started in steamboating. I +had to have <i>something</i> to do."</p> + +<p>But the daughter-in-law did not intend to let the +woman suffrage issue drop.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say," she demanded of Captain +Nettie, "that you think women haven't got as much +sense as men?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I do!" the captain tossed back. "There never +was a woman on earth that had as much sense as the +men. Take it from me, that's so. I know what I'm +talking about—and that's more than a half of these +other women do!"</p> + +<p>Then, as it was about time for the <i>Grand</i> to cast off, +Captain Nettie terminated the interview by blowing the +whistle; whereupon my companion and I went ashore.</p> + +<p>One of the best boats on the river is the <i>Kate Adams</i> +and one of the most delightful two-days' outings I can +imagine would be to make the round trip with her from +Memphis to Arkansas City. But if I were seeking rest +I should not take the trip at the time when it is taken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[Pg 542]</a></span> +by a score or more of Memphis young men and women, +who, with their chaperones, and with Handy to play +their dance-music, make the <i>Kate Adams</i> an extremely +lively craft on one round trip each year.</p> + +<p>Apropos of Arkansas, I am reminded that Memphis +is not only the metropolis of Tennessee, but is the big +city of Arkansas and Mississippi, as well. The Peabody +Hotel in Memphis, a somewhat old-fashioned hostelry, +is a sort of Arkansas political headquarters, and +is sometimes humorously referred to as "Peabody township, +Arkansas." It is also used to a considerable extent +by Mississippi politicians, as well as by the local +breed. The Peabody grill has a considerable reputation +for good cookery, and the Peabody bar, though it +still looks like a bar, serves only soft drinks, which are +dispensed by female "bartenders." The Gayoso hotel, +named for the Spanish governor who intruded upon +Memphis territory for a time, stands where stood the +old Gayoso, which figured in Forrest's raid. The Gayoso +made me think a little of the old Victoria, in New +York, torn down some years ago. The newest hotel +in town, at the time of our visit, was the Chicsa, an establishment +having a large and rather flamboyant office, +and considerably used, we were told, as a place for conventions. +If I were to go again to Memphis I should +have a room at the Gayoso and go to the Peabody for +meals.</p> + +<p>The axis of the earth, which Oliver Wendell Holmes +declared, "sticks out visibly through the center of each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span> +and every town or city," sticks out in Memphis at Court +Square, which the good red Baedeker dismisses briefly +with the remark that it "contains a bust of General Andrew +Jackson and innumerable squirrels." This is not +meant to indicate that the squirrels are a part of the +bust of Jackson. The two are separate and distinct. +So are the pigeons which alight on friendly hands and +shoulders as do other confident pigeons on Boston Common, +and in the Piazza San Marco, in Venice.</p> + +<p>I am always disposed to like the people of a city in +which pigeons and squirrels are tame. Every day, at +noon, an old policeman, a former Confederate soldier I +believe he is, comes into the square with a basket of corn. +When he arrives all the pigeons see him and rush toward +him in a great flapping cloud, brushing past your +face if you happen to be walking across the square at +the time. Nor is he the only one to feed them. Numbers +of citizens go at midday to the square, where they +buy popcorn and peanuts for the squirrels and pigeons—which, +by the way, are all members of old Memphis +families, being descendants of other squirrels and pigeons +which lived in this same place before the Civil War. +One might suppose that the pigeons, being able to fly up +to the seventeenth floor windowsills of the Merchants' +Exchange Building, where men of the grain and hay +bureau of the exchange are in the habit of leaving corn +for them, would prosper more than the squirrels, but +that is not the case for—and I regret to have to report +such immorality—the squirrels are in the habit of add<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[Pg 544]</a></span>ing +to the stores of peanuts which are thrown to them, +by thievery. Like rascally urchins they will watch the +peanut venders, and when their backs are turned, will +make swift dashes at the peanut stands, seizing nuts +and scampering away again. Sometimes the venders +detect them, and give chase for a few steps, but that is +dangerous, for the minute the vender goes after one +squirrel, others rush up and steal more. It is saddening +to find that even squirrels are corrupted by metropolitan +life!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<a name="p526jpg" id="p526jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p526.jpg" width="434" height="600" alt="Citizens go at midday to the square where they buy popcorn for the squirrels +and pigeons—Memphis" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Citizens go at midday to the square where they buy popcorn for the squirrels +and pigeons—Memphis</span> +</div> + +<p>In reviewing my visit to Memphis I find myself, for +once, kindly disposed toward a Chamber of Commerce +and Business Men's Club. I like the Business Men's +Club because, besides issuing pamphlets shrieking the +glory of the city, it has found time to do things much +more worth while—notably to bring to Memphis some of +the great American orchestras.</p> + +<p>A pamphlet issued by these organizations tells me that +Memphis is the largest cotton market in the country, the +largest hardwood producing market, the third largest +grocery and jobbing market.</p> + +<p>Cotton is, indeed, much in evidence in the city. The +streets in some sections are full of strange little two-wheel +drays, upon which three bales are carried, and +which display, in combination, those three southern +things having such perfect artistic affinity: the negro, +the mule, and the cotton bale. The vast modern cotton +warehouses on the outskirts of the city cover many acres +of ground, and with their gravity system of distribution<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</a></span> +for cotton bales, and their hydraulic compresses in which +the bales are squeezed to minimum size, to the accompaniment +of negro chants, are exceedingly interesting.</p> + +<p>The same pamphlet speaks also of the unusually large +proportion of the city's area which is given over +to parks and playgrounds, and it seems worth adding +that though Memphis follows the general southern custom +of barring negroes—excepting, of course, nursemaids +in charge of children—from her parks, she has +been so just as to provide a park for negroes only. In +this she stands ahead of most other southern cities.</p> + +<p>Memphis has the only bridge crossing the Mississippi +below the mouth of the Ohio. At the time of our visit a +new bridge was being built very near the old one, and an +interesting experience of our trip was our visit to this +bridge, under the guidance of Mr. M. B. Case, a young +engineer in charge.</p> + +<p>On a great undertaking, such as this one, where the +total cost mounts into millions, the first work done is not +on the proposed bridge itself, but on the plant and equipment +to be used in construction—derricks, barges, concrete-mixers, +air compressors for the caissons, small +engines, dump-cars and all manner of like things. This +preparatory work consumes some months. Caissons are +then sunk far down beneath the river bed. Caisson +work is dangerous, and the insurance rate on "sand +hogs"—the men who work in the caissons—is very high. +The scale of wages, and of time, varies in proportion to +the risk, which is according to the depth at which work is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[Pg 546]</a></span> +being done. On this enterprise, for example, men working +from mean level to a depth of 50 feet received $3 for +an eight-hour day. From 50 to 70 feet they worked but +six hours and received $3.75. From 90 to 105 feet they +worked in three shifts of one hour each, and received +$4.25. And while they were placing concrete to seal the +working chamber there was an additional allowance of +fifty cents a day.</p> + +<p>The chief danger of caisson work is the "bends," or +"caisson disease." In the caisson a man works under +high air pressure. When he comes out, the pressure on +the fluids of the body is reduced, and this sometimes +causes the formation of a gas bubble in the vascular +system. If this bubble reaches a nerve-center it causes +severe pain, similar to neuralgia; if it gets to the brain +it causes paralysis. Day after day men will go into the +caisson and come out without trouble, but sooner or later +from 2 to 8 per cent. of caisson workers are affected. +Of 320 "sand-hogs" who labored in the caissons of this +bridge, three died of paralysis, and of course a number +of others had slight attacks of the "bends," in one form +or another.</p> + +<p>The bridge, when we visited it, was more than half +completed. On the Memphis side the approaches were +almost ready, and the steel framework of the bridge +reached from the shore across the front pier, and was +being built out far beyond the pier, on the cantilever +principle, hanging in the air above the middle of the +stream. By walking out on the old bridge we could sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</a></span>vey +the extreme end of the new one, which was being +extended farther and farther, daily, by the addition of +new steel sections. There were then about 100 journeymen +bridgemen on the work—these being workmen of +the class that erects steel skyscraper frames—with some +fifty apprentices and carpenters, and about twenty common +laborers. Bridgemen are among the highest paid +of all workmen. In New York, at that time, their wage +was $6 for eight hours' work. Here it was $4.50. +Very few of the men had families with them in Memphis. +They are the soldiers of fortune among wage-earners, +a wild, reckless, fine looking lot of fellows, with +good complexions like those of men in training, and eyes +like the eyes of aviators. No class of men in the world, +I suppose, have steadier nerves, think quicker, or react +more rapidly from stimulus to action, whether through +sight or sound. They have to be like that. For where +other workmen pay for a mistake by loss of a job, these +men pay with life. Yet they will tell you that their +work is not dangerous. It is "just as safe as any other +kind of job"—that, although four of their number had +already been lost from this bridge alone. One went off +the end of the structure with a derrick, the boom of +which he lowered before the anchor-bolts had been +placed. Two others fell. A fourth was struck by a +falling timber.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"> +<a name="p536jpg" id="p536jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p536.jpg" width="444" height="600" alt="Hanging in the air above the middle of the stream" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Hanging in the air above the middle of the stream</span> +</div> + +<p>Once, while we were watching the men scrambling +about upon the steel members of the uncompleted cantilever +arm, one of them thought something was about to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</a></span> +fall, and ran swiftly in, over a steel beam, toward the +body of the structure; whereafter, as nothing did fall, +he was unmercifully twitted by his fellow workers for +having shown timidity.</p> + +<p>Many of the men working on this bridge had worked +on the older structure paralleling it. This was true not +only of the laboring men, but of the engineers. Ralph +Modjeski, the consulting engineer at the head of the +work (he is, by the way, a son of Madame Modjeska), +was chief draughtsman when the earlier structure was +designed; W. E. Angier, assistant chief engineer in the +present work, was a field engineer on the first bridge, and +it is interesting to know that, in constructing the approach +to the old bridge he unearthed a Spanish halbert +which, it is thought, may date from the time of De Soto. +These bridge engineers and bridgebuilders move in a +large orbit. Their last job may have been in Mexico, in +the far West, or in India; their next may be in France. +Many of the men here, worked on the Blackwell's Island +bridge, on the Quebec bridge (which fell), on the +Thebes bridge over the Mississippi, twenty miles above +Cairo, on the Vancouver and Portland bridges over the +Columbia and Willamette rivers, and on the great Oregon +Trunk Railway bridges.</p> + +<p>After standing for a time on the old bridge watching +work on the new, and shuddering, often enough, at the +squirrel-like way in which the men scampered about up +there, so far above the water, we walked in and moved +out again upon the partially completed floor of the new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</a></span> +bridge. Here it was necessary to walk on railroad ties, +with gaps, six or eight inches wide, between them. +Even had one tried, one could hardly have managed to +squeeze one's body through these chinks; to fall through +was impossible; nevertheless it gave me an uncomfortable +feeling in the region of the stomach to walk out +there, seeing the river all the time between the interstices. +When we had progressed for some distance we +came to a gap where, for perhaps a yard, there were no +ties—just open space, with the muddy water shining +cold and cruel below. The opening was only about as +wide as the hall of a small New York flat, and heaven +knows that to step across such a hall is easy enough. +But this was not so easy. When we came to the gap I +stopped. Mr. Case, the young engineer, who loved all +bridges with a sort of holy passion, and loved this bridge +in particular, was talking as we went along. I liked to +hear him talk. He had been telling us how a thing that +is to <i>be</i> strong ought to <i>look</i> strong, too, and from that +had got somehow to the topic of expansion and contraction +in bridges, with variations of temperature. "It +isn't only the steel bridges that do it," he said. "Stone +arch bridges do it, too. The crown of the arch rises and +falls. The Greeks and Romans and Egyptians knew +that expansion and contraction occurred. They—"</p> + +<p>While talking he had gone across the gap, stepping +lightly upon a stringpiece probably a foot wide, and proceeding +over the ties. Now, however, he ceased speaking +and looked back, for I was no longer beside him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</a></span> +At the gap I had stopped. I intended to step across, but +I did not propose to do so without giving the matter the +attention it seemed to me to deserve.</p> + +<p>Mr. Case did not laugh at me. He came back and +stood on the string-piece where it crossed the opening, +telling me to put my hand on his shoulder. But I did +not want to do that. I wanted to cross alone—when I +got ready. It took me perhaps two minutes to get ready. +Then I stepped over. It was, of course, absurdly easy. +I had known it would be. But as we walked along I +kept thinking to myself: "I shall have to cross that +beastly place again when we come back," and I marveled +the more at the amazing steadiness of eye and mind and +nerve that enables some men to go continually prancing +about over emptiness infinitely more engulfing than that +which had troubled and was troubling me.</p> + +<p>Returning I stepped across without physical hesitation. +But after I had crossed I continued to hate that +gap. I hated it as I drove back to the hotel, that afternoon, +as I ate dinner that night, as I went to bed, and in +my dreams I continued to cross it, and to see the river +waiting for me, seeming to look up and leer and beckon. +I woke up hating the gap in the bridge as much as ever; +I hated it down into the State of Mississippi, and over +into Georgia; and wherever I have gone since, I have +continued to hate it. Of course there isn't any gap there +now. It was covered long ago. Yet for me it still exists, +like some obnoxious person who, though actually +dead, lives on in the minds of those who knew him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</a></span></p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FARTHEST_SOUTH" id="FARTHEST_SOUTH"></a>FARTHEST SOUTH</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI<br /> +<br /> +BEAUTIFUL SAVANNAH</h2> + + +<p>How often it occurs that the great work a man set +out originally to accomplish, is lost sight of, by +future generations, in contemplation of other +achievements of that man, which he himself regarded +as of secondary importance.</p> + +<p>In 1733, the year in which General Oglethorpe started +his Georgia colony, there were more than a hundred offenses +for which a person might be hanged in England; +Oglethorpe's primary idea in founding the colony +was to provide a means of freeing debtors from prison, +and giving them a fresh start in life; yet it is as the man +responsible for the laying out of the beautiful city of +Savannah, that Oglethorpe is probably most widely remembered +to-day.</p> + +<p>Oglethorpe was a first-rate soldier. He defeated a +superior Spanish force from Florida, and successfully +resisted attacks from the Indians. Also, he was a man +whose ethical sense was in advance of his period. He +did not permit slavery in Georgia, and it was not adopted +there until he went back to England. In planning +Savannah he was assisted by a Charleston engineer +named Bull, for whom the chief street of Savannah is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</a></span> +named. The place is laid out very simply; it has rectangular +blocks and wide roads, with small parks, or +squares, at regular intervals. There are some two +dozen of these small parks, aside from one or two larger +parks, a parade ground, and numerous boulevards with +double roadways and parked centers, and the abundance +of semi-tropical foliage and of airy spaces, in Savannah, +gives the city its most distinctive and charming quality—the +quality which differentiates it from all other +American cities. Originally these parks were used as +market-places and rallying points in case of Indian attack; +now they serve the equally utilitarian purposes of +this age, having become charming public gardens and +playgrounds. One of them—not the most important +one—is named Oglethorpe Square; but the monument +to Oglethorpe is placed elsewhere.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p556jpg" id="p556jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p556.jpg" width="600" height="436" alt="These small parks give Savannah a quality which differentiates it from all other American cities" title="" /> +<span class="caption">These small parks give Savannah a quality which differentiates it from all other American cities</span> +</div> + +<p>Madison Square, Savannah, is relatively about as +important as Madison Square, New York, and though +smaller than the latter, is much prettier. It contains +a monument to Sergeant Jasper, the Revolutionary hero +who, when the flag was shot down from Fort Moultrie, +off Charleston, by the British, flung it to the breeze +again, under fire. Jasper was later killed with the flag +in his arms, in the French-American attempt to take +Savannah from the British. Monterey Square has a +statue of Count Pulaski, who also fell at the siege of +Savannah. Another Revolutionary hero remembered +with a monument is General Nathanael Greene who, +though born in Rhode Island, moved after the war to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</a></span> +Georgia where, in recognition of his services, he was +given an estate not far from Savannah. "Mad" +Anthony Wayne, a Pennsylvanian by birth, also accepted +an estate in Georgia and resided there after the +Revolution.</p> + +<p>An interesting story attaches to Greene's settlement +in Georgia. The estate given to him was that known +as Mulberry Grove, above the city, on the Savannah +River. The property had previously belonged to Lieutenant-governor +John Graham, but was confiscated because +Graham was a loyalist. Along with the property, +Greene apparently took over the Graham vault in Colonial +Cemetery—now a city park, and a very interesting +one because of the old tombs and gravestones—and there +he was himself buried. After a while people forgot +where Greene's remains lay, and later, when it was +decided to erect a monument to his memory in Johnson +Square, they couldn't find any Greene to put under it. +However, they went ahead and made the monument, +and Lafayette laid the cornerstone, when he visited +Savannah in March, 1825. Greene's remains were lost +for 114 years. They did not come to light until 1902, +when some one thought of opening the Graham vault. +Thereupon they were removed and reinterred in their +proper resting place beneath the monument which had so +long awaited them. That monument, by the way, was +not erected by Savannah people, or even by Southerners, +but was paid for by the legislature of the general's native +Rhode Island. When the remains were discovered,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</a></span> +Rhode Island asked for them, but Savannah, which had +lost them, also wanted them. The matter was settled by +a vote of Greene's known descendants, who decided almost +unanimously to leave his remains in Savannah.</p> + +<p>The foundation of the general's former home at Mulberry +Grove may still be seen. It was in this house that +Eli Whitney invented the cotton-gin. Whitney was a +tutor in the Greene family after the general's death, +and it was at the suggestion of Mrs. Greene that he +started to try and make "a machine to pick the seed out +of cotton." It is said that Whitney's first machine +would do, in five hours, work which, if done by hand, +would take one man two years. This was, of course, an +epoch-making invention and caused enormous commercial +growth in the South, where cotton-gins are as common +things as restaurants in the city of New York. +Which reminds me of a story.</p> + +<p>A northern man was visiting Mr. W. D. Pender, at +Tarboro, North Carolina. On the day of the guest's +arrival Mr. Pender spoke to his cook, a negro woman of +the old order, telling her to hurry up the dinner, because +he wished to take his friend down to see the cotton-gin. +"You know," he explained, "this gentleman has never +seen a cotton-gin."</p> + +<p>The cook looked at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Lor'! Mistuh Penduh," she exclaimed. "An' dat +man <i>look</i> like he was edjacated!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Another item in Savannah history is that John Wes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</a></span>ley +came over about the middle of the eighteenth century +to convert the Indians to Christianity. It was +not until after this attempt, when he returned to +England, that he began the great religious movement +which led to the founding of the Methodist Church. +George Whitfield also preached in Savannah. Evidently +Wesley did not get very far with the savages +who, it may be imagined, were more responsive to the +kind of "conversion" attempted in South Carolina, by a +French dancing-master, who went out from Charleston +in the early days and taught them the steps of the stately +minuet.</p> + +<p>Another great event in Savannah history was the departure +from that port, in 1819, of the <i>City of Savannah</i>, +the first steamship to cross the Atlantic. If I may +make a suggestion to the city, it is that the centennial +of this event be celebrated, and that a memorial be +erected. Inspiration for such a memorial might perhaps +be found in the simple and charming monument, +crowned by a galleon in bronze, which has been erected +in San Francisco, in memory of Robert Louis Stevenson. +A ship in bronze can be a glorious thing—which +is more than can be said of a bronze statesman in modern +pantaloons.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>More lately Savannah initiated another world-improvement: +she was the first city to abolish horses entirely +from her fire department, replacing them with +automobile engines, hook-and-ladders, and hose-carts.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</a></span> +That is in line with what one would expect of Savannah, +for she is not only a progressive city, but is a great +automobile city, having several times been the scene of +important international automobile road races, including +the Grand Prize and the Vanderbilt Cup.</p> + +<p>Nor is there want of other history. The Savannah +Theater, though gutted by fire and rebuilt, is the same +theater that Joseph Jefferson owned and managed for +a time, in the fifties; in the house on Lafayette Square, +now occupied by Judge W. W. Lambdin, Robert E. Lee +once stayed, and Thackeray is said to have written there +a part of "The Virginians."</p> + +<p>A sad thing was happening in Savannah when we +were there. The Habersham house, one of the loveliest +old mansions of the city, was being torn down to make +room for a municipal auditorium.</p> + +<p>The first Habersham in America was a Royal Governor +of Georgia. He had three sons one of whom, +Joseph, had, by the outbreak of the Revolution, become a +good enough American to join a band of young patriots +who took prisoner the British governor, Sir James +Wright. The governor's house was situated where the +Telfair Academy now is. He was placed under parole, +but nevertheless fled to Bonaventure, the Tabnall estate, +not far from the city, where he was protected by friends +until he could escape to the British fleet, which then lay +off Tybee Island at the mouth of the Savannah River, +some eighteen miles below the city. This same Joseph +Habersham, it is said, led a party which went out in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</a></span> +1775 in skiffs—called <i>bateaux</i> along this part of the +coast—boarded the British ship <i>Hinchenbroke</i>, lying at +anchor in the river, and captured her in a hand-to-hand +conflict. Mr. Neyle Colquitt of Savannah, a descendant +of the Habershams, tells me that the powder taken from +the <i>Hinchenbroke</i> was used at the Battle of Bunker Hill. +After the war, in which Joseph Habersham commanded +a regiment of regulars, he was made Postmaster General +of the United States. The old house itself was built by +Archibald Bulloch, a progenitor of that Miss "Mittie" +Bulloch who later became Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, Sr., +mother of the President. It was designed by an English +architect named Jay, who did a number of the fine +old houses of Savannah, which are almost without exception +of the Georgian period. Archibald Bulloch bought +the lot on which he built the house from Matthew +McAllister, great-grandfather of Ward McAllister. +When sold by Bulloch it passed through several hands +and finally came into the possession of Robert Habersham, +a son of Joseph.</p> + +<p>The old house was spacious and its interiors had a +fine formality about them. The staircase, fireplace and +chandeliers were handsome, and there was at the rear +a charming oval room, the heavy mahogany doors of +which were curved to conform to the shape of the walls. +To tear down such a house was sacrilege—also it was a +sacrilege hard to commit, for some of the basement walls +were fifteen feet thick, and of solid brick straight +through.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sherman's headquarters were on the Square, just +south of the De Soto Hotel, in the battlemented brick +mansion which is the residence of General Peter W. +Meldrim, ex-president of the American Bar Association, +and former Mayor of Savannah.</p> + +<p>Among other old houses characteristic of Savannah, +are the Scarborough house, the Mackay house, the +Thomas house in Franklin Square (also known as +the Owens house), in which Lafayette was entertained, +and the Telfair house, now the Telfair Academy. +The Telfair and Thomas houses were built by the architect +who built the Habersham house, and it is to be +hoped that they will never go the way of the latter +mansion.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p561jpg" id="p561jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p561.jpg" width="600" height="431" alt="The Thomas House in Franklin Square in which Lafayette was entertained" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Thomas House in Franklin Square in which Lafayette was entertained</span> +</div> + +<p>In 1810, about the time these houses were built, +Savannah had 5,000 inhabitants; by 1850 the population +had trebled, and 1890 found it a place of more +than 40,000. Since then the city has grown with +wholesome rapidity, and attractive suburban districts +have been developed. The 1910 census gives the population +as 65,000, but the city talks exuberantly of 90,000. +Well, perhaps that is not an exaggerated claim. Certainly +it is a city to attract those who are free to live +where they please. In fall, winter and spring it leaves +little to be desired. I have been there three times, and I +have never walked up Bull Street without looking forward +to the day when I could go there, rent an old house +full of beautiful mahogany, and pass a winter. Not +even New Orleans made me feel like that. I feel about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</a></span> +New Orleans that it is a place to visit rather than to +settle down in. I want to go back to New Orleans, but +I do not want to stay more than a few weeks. I want +to see some people that I know, prowl about the French +quarter, and have Jules Alciatore turn me out a dinner; +then I want to go away. So, too, I want to go back to +Atlanta—just to see some people. I want to stay there +a week or two. Also I want to go to St. Augustine +when cold weather comes, and bask in the warm sun, and +breathe the soft air full of gold dust, and feel indolent +and happy as I watch the activities about the excellent +Ponce de Leon Hotel; but there are two cities in the +South that I dream of going to for a quiet happy winter +of domesticity and work, in a rented house—it must be +the right house, too—and those cities are, first Charleston; +then Savannah.</p> + +<p>The Telfair Academy in the old Telfair mansion was +left, by a member of the family, to the city, to be used +as a museum. Being somewhat skeptical about museums +in cities of the size of Savannah, not to say +much larger cities, especially when they are art museums, +I very nearly omitted a visit to this one. Had I done +so I would have missed seeing not only a number of exceedingly +interesting historic treasures, but what I believe +to be the best public art collection contained in any +southern city.</p> + +<p>The museum does, to be sure, contain a number of +old "tight" paintings of the kind with which the country +was deluged at the time of the Chicago World's Fair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</a></span> +but upstairs there is a surprise in shape of an exhibition +of modern American paintings (the best paintings being +produced in the world to-day) showing brilliant +selection. I was utterly amazed when I found this collection. +There were excellent canvases by Childe Hassam, +Ernest Lawson, George Bellows, and other living +American painters whose work, while it is becoming +more and more widely appreciated each year, is still +beyond all but the most advanced and discriminating +buyers of paintings. I went into ecstasies over this collection, +and I said to myself: "Away down here in Savannah +there is some one buying better paintings for a +little museum than the heads of many of the big +museums in the country have had sense enough or +courage enough to buy. This man ought to be 'discovered' +and taken to some big museum where his appreciation +will be put to the greatest use." With that I +rushed downstairs, sought out the curator, and asked +who had purchased the modern American pictures. +And then my bubble was pricked, for who had they had, +down there, buying their pictures for them, but Gari +Melchers! Naturally the pictures were good!</p> + +<p>In one room of the building, on the ground floor, is +a collection of fine old furniture, etc., which belonged +to the Telfair family, including two beautiful mantelpieces +of black and white marble, some cabinets, and a +very curious and fascinating extension dining-table, +built of mahogany. The table is perfectly round, and +the leaves, instead of being added in the middle, are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</a></span> +curved pieces, fitting around the outer edge in two series, +so that when extended to its full capacity the +table is still round. I have never seen another such +table.</p> + +<p>Also I found many interesting old books and papers +passed down from the Telfairs. One of these was a +ledger with records of slave sales.</p> + +<p>In a sale held Friday, October 14, 1774, Sir James +Wright, the same British governor who was presently +put to flight, purchased four men, five women, nine boys, +and one girl, at a total cost of £820, or about $3,280. +Sir Patrick Houston bought two women at £90, or $450. +The whole day's sale disposed of thirty-five men, seventeen +women, twenty-seven boys and ten girls, at a grand +total of £3206, or roughly between nine and ten thousand +dollars.</p> + +<p>The Telfairs were great planters. Among the papers +was one headed "Rules and Directions to be strictly attended +to by all overseers at Thorn Island Plantation." +This plantation was on the North Carolina side of the +river, and was owned by Alexander Telfair, a brother +of Miss Mary Telfair who gave the Academy to the city. +Dates which occur in the papers stamp them as having +been issued some time prior to 1837. Here are some of +the regulations:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>The allowance for every grown negro, let him or her +be old and good for nothing, and every young one that +works in the field, is a peck of corn a week and a pint of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</a></span> +salt and a piece of meat not exceeding fourteen pounds +per month.</p> + +<p>No negro to have more than forty lashes, no matter +what his crime.</p> + +<p>The suckling children and all small ones who do not +work in the field draw a half allowance of corn and salt.</p> + +<p>Any negro can have a ticket to go about the neighborhood, +but cannot leave it without a pass. No strangers +allowed to come on the place without a pass.</p> + +<p>The negroes to be tasked when the work allows it. I +require a reasonable day's work well done. The task to +be regulated by the state of the ground and the strength +of the negro.</p> + +<p>All visiting between the Georgia plantation to be refused. +[The Telfairs owned another plantation on the +Georgia side of the river.] No one to get husbands or +wives across the river. No night meeting or preaching +allowed on the place except on Saturday or Sunday +morning.</p> + +<p>If there is any fighting on the place whip all engaged +in it, no matter what may be the cause it may be covered +with.</p> + +<p>In extreme cases of sickness employ a physician. +After a dose of castor oil is given, a dose of calomel, and +blister applied, if no relief, then send.</p> + +<p>My negroes are not allowed to plant cotton for themselves. +Everything else they may plant. Give them +ticket to sell what they make.</p> + +<p>I have no Driver (slave-driver). You are to task the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</a></span> +negroes yourself. They are responsible to you alone for +work.</p> +</div> + +<p>Certain negroes are mentioned by name:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Many persons are indebted to Elsey for attending +upon their negroes. I wish you to see them or send to +them for the money.</p> + +<p>If Dolly is unable to return to cooking she must take +charge of all the little negroes.</p> + +<p>Pay Free Moses two dollars and a half for taking care +of things left at his landing.</p> +</div> + +<p>Bull Street, the fashionable street of the city, is a gem +of a street, despite the incursions made at not infrequent +intervals, by comparatively new, and often very ugly +buildings. Every few blocks Bull Street has to turn +out of its course and make the circuit of one of the small +parks of which I have spoken, and this gives it charm +and variety. On this street stands the De Soto Hotel, +which, when I first went to Savannah, years ago, was by +all odds the leading hostelry of the city. It is one of +those great rambling buildings with a big porch out in +front, an open court in back, and everything about it, including +the bedchambers, very spacious and rather old +fashioned. Lately the Savannah Hotel has been erected +down at the business end of Bull Street. It is a modern +hotel of the more conventional commercial type. But +even down there, near the business part of town, it is not +confronted by congested cobbled streets and clanging +trolley cars, but looks out upon one of the squares, filled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</a></span> +with magnolias, oaks and palms. But another time I +think I shall go back to the De Soto.</p> + +<p>The building of the Independent Presbyterian Church, +on Bull Street, is one of the most beautiful of its kind in +the country, inside and out. It reminds one of the old +churches in Charleston, and it is gratifying to know that +though the old church which stood on this site (dedicated +in 1819) burned in 1889, the congregation did not +seize the opportunity to replace it with a hideosity in +lemon-yellow brick, but had the rare good sense to duplicate +the old church exactly, with the result that, though a +new building, it has all the dignity and simple beauty of +an old one.</p> + +<p>Broughton Street, the shopping street, crosses Bull +Street in the downtown section, and looks ashamed of +itself as it does so, for it is about as commonplace a looking +street as one may see. There is simply nothing about +it of distinction save its rather handsome name.</p> + +<p>Elsewhere, however, there are several skyscrapers, +most of them good looking buildings. It seemed to me +also that I had never seen so many banks as in Savannah, +and I am told that it is, indeed, a great banking +city, and that the record of the Savannah banks +for weathering financial storms is very fine. On a good +many corners where there are not banks there are clubs, +and some of these clubs are delightful and thoroughly +metropolitan in character. I know of no city in the +North, having a population corresponding to that of +Charleston or of Savannah, which has clubs comparable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</a></span> +with the best clubs of these cities, or of New Orleans. +When it is considered that of the population of these +southern cities approximately one half, representing +negroes, must be deducted in considering the population +from which eligibles must be drawn, the excellence of +southern clubs becomes remarkable in the extreme. +Savannah, by the way, holds one national record in the +matter of clubs. It had the first golf club founded in +America. Exactly when the club was founded I cannot +say, but Mr. H. H. Bruen, of Savannah, has in his +possession an invitation to a golf club ball held in the +old City Hall in the year 1811.</p> + +<p>The commercial ascendancy of Savannah over +Charleston is due largely to natural causes. The port of +Savannah drains exports from a larger and richer territory +than is tapped by Charleston, though new railroads +are greatly improving Charleston's situation in +this respect. Savannah is a shipping port for cotton +from a vast part of the lower and central South, and is +also a great port for lumber, and the greatest port in the +world for "naval stores." I did not know what naval +stores were when I went to Savannah. The term conjured +up in my mind pictures of piles of rope, pulleys +and anchors. But those are not naval stores. Naval +stores are gum products, such as resin and turpentine, +which are obtained from the long-leafed pines of South +Carolina, Georgia, Alabama and Florida. The traveler +through these States cannot have failed to notice gashes +on the tree-trunks along the way. From these the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</a></span> +resinous sap exudes and is caught in cups, after which +it is boiled, there in the woods, and thus separated into +turpentine, resin and pitch. Vast quantities of these +materials are stored on the great modern docks of Savannah. +It is said that owing to wasteful methods, the +long-leafed pine forests are being rapidly destroyed, and +that this industry will die out before very long because +the eager grabbers of to-day's dollars, having no thought +for the future, fail to practise scientific forestry.</p> + +<p>All about Savannah, within easy reach by trolley, +motor or boat, lie pleasant retreats and interesting things +to see. The roads of the region, built by convict labor, +are of the finest, and the convict prison camps are worth +a visit. In the Brown Farm camp, living conditions are +certainly more sanitary than in ninety nine out of a hundred +negro homes. The place fairly shines with cleanliness, +and there are many cases in which "regulars" at +this camp are no sooner released than they offend again +with the deliberate purpose of carrying out what may be +termed a "back to the farm" movement. The color line +is drawn in southern jails and convict camps as elsewhere. +White prisoners occupy one barracks; negroes +another. The food and accommodations for both is the +same. The only race discrimination I could discover +was that when white prisoners are punished by flogging, +they are flogged with their clothes on, whereas, with +negroes, the back is exposed. The men in this camp are +minor offenders and wear khaki overalls in place of the +stripes in which the worse criminals, quartered in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</a></span>other +camp, are dressed. Strict discipline is maintained, +but the life is wholesome. The men are marched to +work in the morning and back at night escorted by +guards who carry loaded shotguns, and who always have +with them a pack of ugly bloodhounds to be used in case +escape is attempted.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All the drives in this region are extremely picturesque, +for the live-oak grows here at its best, and is to be +seen everywhere, its trunk often twenty or more feet in +circumference, its wide-spreading branches reaching +out their tips to meet those of other trees of the same +species, so that sometimes the whole world seems to have +a groined ceiling of foliage, a ceiling which inevitably +suggests a great shadowy cathedral from whose airy +arches hang long gray pennons of Spanish moss, like +faded, tattered battle-flags.</p> + +<p>On country roads you will come, now and then, upon +a negro burial ground of very curious character. There +may be such negro cemeteries in the upper Southern +States, but if so I have never seen them. In this portion +of Georgia they are numerous, and their distinguishing +mark consists in the little piles of household +effects with which every grave is covered. I do not +know whether this is done to propitiate ghosts and devils +(generally believed to "hant" these graveyards), or +whether it is the idea that the deceased can still find use +for the assortment of pitchers, bowls, cups, saucers, +knives, forks, spoons, statuettes, alarm-clocks, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</a></span> +heaven only knows what else, which were his treasured +earthly possessions.</p> + +<p>In Savannah, I have heard Commodore Tatnall, who +used to live at Bonaventure, credited with having originated +the saying "Blood is thicker than water," but I am +inclined to believe that the Commodore merely made apposite +use of an old formula. The story is told of +one of the old Tatnalls that in the midst of a large +dinner-party which he was giving at his mansion +at Bonaventure plantation, a servant entered and informed +him that the house was on fire. Whereupon the +old thoroughbred, instead of turning fireman, persisted +in his rôle of host, ordering the full dining-room equipment +to be moved out upon the lawn, where the company +remained at dinner while the house burned down.</p> + +<p>Most of the old houses of the plantations on the river +have long since been destroyed. That at Whitehall +was burned by the negroes when Sherman's army came +by, but the old trees and gardens still endure, including a +tall hedge of holly which is remarkable even in this +florescent region. The old plantation house at the +Hermitage, approached by a handsome avenue of live-oaks, +is, I believe, the only one of those ancient mansions +which still stands, and it does not stand very strongly, +for, beautiful though it is in its abandonment and decay, +it is like some noble old gentleman dying alone in an +attic, of age, poverty and starvation—dying proudly +as poor Charles Gayarré did in New Orleans.</p> + +<p>The Hermitage has, I believe, no great history save<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</a></span> +what is written in its old chipped walls of stucco-covered +brick, and the slave-cabins which still form a background +for it. It is a story of baronial decay, resulting, doubtless, +from the termination of slavery. Hordes of negroes +of the "new issue" infest the old slave-cabins and +on sight of visitors rush out with almost violent demands +for money, in return for which they wish to sing. Their +singing is, however, the poorest negro singing I have +ever heard. All the spontaneity, all the relish, all the +vividness which makes negro singing wonderful, has +been removed, here, by the fixed idea that singing is not +a form of expression but a mere noise to be given vent +to for the purpose of extracting backsheesh. It is +saddening to witness the degradation, through what may +be called professionalism, of any great racial quality. +These negroes, half mendicant, half traders on the reputation +of their race, express professionalism in its lowest +form. They are more pitiful than the professional +tarantella dancers who await the arrival of tourists, in +certain parts of southern Italy, as spiders await flies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a>CHAPTER LII<br /> +<br /> +MISS "JAX" AND SOME FLORIDA GOSSIP</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Or mebbe you 're intendin' of<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Investments? Orange-plantin'? Pine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hotel? or Sanitarium? What above<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This yea'th <i>can</i> be your line?..."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">Sidney Lanier ("A Florida Ghost.")<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>It is the boast of Jacksonville (known locally by the +convenient abbreviation "Jax") that it stands as the +"Gate to Florida." But the fact that a gate is something +through which people pass—usually without stopping—causes +some anguish to an active Chamber of +Commerce, which has been known to send bands to the +railway station to serenade tourists in the hope of enticing +them to alight.</p> + +<p>If I were to personify Jacksonville, it would be, I +think, as an amiable young woman, member of a domestic +family, whose papa and mama had moved to +Florida from somewhere else—for it is as hard to find a +native of Jacksonville in that city as to find a native New +Yorker in New York. Miss Jacksonville's papa, as I +conceive it, has prospered while daughter has been +growing up, and has bought for her a fine large house on +a main corner, where many people pass. Having +reached maturity Miss Jacksonville wishes to be in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</a></span> +Florida society—to give, as it were, house parties, like +those of her neighbors, the other winter resorts. She +sees people passing her doors all winter long, and she +says to herself: "I must get some of these people to +come in."</p> + +<p>To this end she brushes off the walk, lays a carpet on +the steps, puts flowers in the vases, orders up a lot of +fancy food and drink (from the very admirable Hotel +Mason), turns on the lights and the Victor, leaves the +front door invitingly open, and hopes for the best. +Soon people begin to come in, but as she meets them she +discovers that most of them have come to see papa on +business; only a few have come on her account. They +help themselves to sandwiches, look about the room, and +listen to what Miss Jacksonville has to say.</p> + +<p>Time passes. Nothing happens. She asks how they +like the chairs.</p> + +<p>"Very comfortable," they assure her.</p> + +<p>"Do have some more to eat and drink," says she.</p> + +<p>"What is your history?" a guest asks her presently.</p> + +<p>"I haven't much history to speak of," she replies. +"They tell me Andrew Jackson had his territorial government +about where my house stands, but I don't +know much about it. We don't care much about history +in our family."</p> + +<p>"What do you do with yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I keep house, and go occasionally to the Woman's +Club, and in the evenings father tells me about his business."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very nice," says one guest, whom we shall picture as +a desirable and wealthy young man from the North. +"Now let's do something. Do you play or sing? Are +you athletic? Do you go boating on the St. John's +River? Do you gamble? Can you make love?"</p> + +<p>"I dance a little and play a little golf out at the +Florida Country Club," she says, with but small signs of +enthusiasm. "The thing I'm really most interested in, +though, is father's business. He lost a lot of money in +the fire of 1901, but he's made it all back and a lot more +besides."</p> + +<p>"What about surf-bathing?" asks the pleasure-seeking +visitor, stifling a yawn.</p> + +<p>"There's Atlantic Beach only eighteen miles from +here. It's a wonderful beach. Father's putting a million +in improvements out there, but there's no time to +go there just now. However, if you'd like to, I can +take you down and show you the new docks he has +built."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thanks," says the guest. "I don't care for +docks—not, that is, unless we can go boating."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we can't do that," says Miss Jacksonville. +"We don't use the river much for pleasure. I +can't say just why, unless it is that every one is +too busy.... But please eat something more, and +do have something to drink. There's plenty for every +one."</p> + +<p>"I must be running along," says the visitor. "I've +been invited to call at some other houses down the block.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</a></span> +By the way, what is the name of your neighbor next +door?"</p> + +<p>"St. Augustine," says Jacksonville, with a little reluctance. +"She is of Spanish descent and sets great +store by it. If you call there she'll show you a lot of +interesting old relics she has, but I assure you that when +it comes to commercial success her family isn't one-two-three +with papa."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," says the visitor, "but just at the moment +commerce doesn't appeal to me. Who lives beyond +her?"</p> + +<p>Miss Jacksonville sighs. "There are some pleasant, +rather attractive people named Ormonde, beyond," she +says, "and a lively family named Daytona next door to +them. Neither family is in business, like papa. They +just play all the time. Then come a number of modest +places, and after them, in the big yellow and white +house with the palm trees all around it—but I'd advise +you to keep away from there! Yes, you'd better go +by that house. On the other side of it, in another lovely +house, live some nicer, simpler people named Miami. +Or if you like fishing, you might drop in on Mrs. Long-Key—she's +wholesome and sweet, and goes out every +day to catch tarpon. Or, again, you might—"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with the people in the big yellow +and white house surrounded by palm trees? Why +shouldn't I go there?" asks the guest.</p> + +<p>"A young widow lives there," says Miss Jacksonville +primly. "I don't know much about her history, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</a></span> +she looks to me as though she had been on the stage. +She's frightfully frivolous—not at all one of our representative +people."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" says the visitor. "Is she pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Well," admits Miss Jacksonville, "I suppose she <i>is</i>—in +a fast way. But she's all rouged and she overdresses. +Her bathing suits are too short at the bottom +and her evening gowns are too short at the top. Yes, +and even at that, she has a trick of letting the shoulder +straps slip off and pretending she doesn't know it has +happened."</p> + +<p>"What's her name?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Palm-Beach."</p> + +<p>"Oh," says the visitor. "I've heard of her. She's +always getting into the papers. Tell me more."</p> + +<p>Miss Jacksonville purses her lips and raises her eyebrows. +"Really," she says, "I don't like to talk +scandal."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come on! Do!" pleads the visitor. "Is she bad—bad +and beautiful and alluring?"</p> + +<p>"Judge for yourself," says Miss Jacksonville sharply. +"She keeps that enormous place of hers shut up except +for about two months or so in the winter, when she +comes down gorgeously dressed, with more jewelry than +is worn by the rest of the neighborhood put together. +Few Southerners go to her house. It's full of rich +people from all over the North."</p> + +<p>"Is she rich?"</p> + +<p>"You'd think so to look at her—especially if you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_577" id="Page_577">[Pg 577]</a></span> +didn't know where she got her money. But she really +hasn't much of her own. She's a grafter."</p> + +<p>"How does she manage it?"</p> + +<p>"Men give her money."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"Because she knows how to please the rich. She understands +them. She makes herself beautiful for them. +She plays, and drinks, and gambles, and dances with +them, and goes riding with them in wheel chairs by +moonlight, and sits with them by the sea, and holds their +hands, and gets them sentimental. There's some scent +she uses that is very seductive—none of the rest of us +have been able to find out exactly what it is."</p> + +<p>"But how does she get their money?"</p> + +<p>"She never tells a hard-luck story—you can't get +money out of the kind she goes with, that way. She +takes the other tack. She whispers to them, and laughs +with them, and fondles them, and makes them love her, +and when they love her she says: 'But dearie, be reasonable! +Think how many people love me! I like to +have you here, you fat old darling with the gold jingling +in your pockets! but I can't let you sit with me +unless you pay. Yes, I'm expensive, I admit. But +don't you love this scent I wear? Don't you adore my +tropical winter sea, my gardens, my palm trees, my +moonlight, and my music? They are all for you, dearie—so +why shouldn't you pay? Don't I take you from +the northern cold and slush? Haven't I built a siding +for your private car, and made an anchorage for your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_578" id="Page_578">[Pg 578]</a></span> +yacht? Don't I let you do as you please? Don't I keep +you amused? Don't you love to look at me? Don't I +put my warm red lips to yours? Well, then, dearie, +what is all your money for?' ... That is her way of +talking to them! That is the sort of creature that she +is!"</p> + +<p>"Shocking!" says the visitor, rising and looking for +his hat "You say hers is the third large house from +here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Remember, she's as mercenary as can be!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I can take care of myself. If she's amusing +that suits me. Good-by."</p> + +<p>In the vestibule he pauses to count his money.</p> + +<p>"Jacksonville seems to be a nice girl," he says to himself +as he hastens down the block. "I imagine she might +make a good wife and mother, and that she'd help her +husband on in business. However, I'm not thinking of +getting married and settling down in Florida. I'm +out for some fun. I think I'll run in and call upon +Mrs. Palm-Beach."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_579" id="Page_579">[Pg 579]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIII" id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a>CHAPTER LIII<br /> +<br /> +PASSIONATE PALM BEACH</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A very merry, dancing, drinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughing, quaffing and unthinking time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Dryden.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Like all places in which idlers try to avoid finding +out that they are idle, Palm Beach has very definite +customs as to where to go, and at what time +to go there. Excepting in its hours for going to bed +and getting up, it runs on schedule. The official day begins +with the bathing hour—half past eleven to half +past twelve—when the two or three thousand people +from the pair of vast hotels assemble before the casino +on the beach. Golfers will, of course, be upon the links +before this hour; fishermen will be casting from the pier +or will be out in boats searching the sail fish—that being +the "fashionable" fish at the present time; ladies of excessive +circumference will be panting rapidly along the +walks, their eyes holding that look of dreamy determination +which painters put into the eyes of martyrs, and +which a fixed intention to lose twenty pounds puts into +the eyes of banting women. So, too, certain gentlemen +of swarthy skin make their way to the casino sun parlor, +where they disrobe and bake until the bathing hour. +The object of this practice is to acquire, as nearly as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_580" id="Page_580">[Pg 580]</a></span> +white man may, the complexion of a mulatto, and it is +surprising to see how closely the skins of some more +ardent members of the "Browning Club," as this group +is called, match those of their chair boys. The underlying +theory of the "Browning Club" is that a triple-plated +coat of tan, taken north in March, advertises the +wearer as having been at Palm Beach during the entire +winter, thus establishing him as a man not merely of +means, but of great endurance.</p> + +<p>The women of Palm Beach seem to be divided into +two distinct schools of thought on the subject of tanning. +While none of them compete with the radicals of the +"Browning Club," one may nevertheless observe that, in +evening dress, many young ladies reveal upon their +necks, shoulders, and arms, stenciled outlines of the +upper margins of their bathing suits. Ladies of the +opposing school, upon the contrary, guard the whiteness +of their skins as jealously as the men of the "Browning +Club" guard their blackness. Rather than be touched +with tan, many ladies of the latter group deny themselves +the pleasures of the surf. The parasols beneath +which they arrive upon the sands are not lowered until +they are safely seated beneath the green and blue striped +canvas tops of their beach chairs, and it may be observed +that even then they are additionally fortified +against the light, by wide black hats and thick dark veils +draped to mask their faces up to the eyes; "harem" +veils, they call them—the name, however, signifying +nothing polygamous.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_581" id="Page_581">[Pg 581]</a></span></p> + +<p>A pleasant diversion at the beginning of the bathing +hour occurs when some mere one-horse millionaire from +a Middle-Western town appears on the beach with his +family. He is newly arrived and is under the fond delusion +that he is as good as anybody else and that his +money is as good as any other person's money. Seeing +the inviting rows of beach chairs, he and his family +plump into several of them. They are hardly settled, +however, when the man who attends to the beach chairs +comes and asks them to get out, saying that the chairs +are reserved.</p> + +<p>The other thinks the man is lying like a head waiter, +and demands to know for whom the chairs are reserved.</p> + +<p>In reply the beach-chair man mentions, with suitable +deference, the name of Mrs. Hopkinson Skipkinson +Jumpkinson-Jones.</p> + +<p>"Well," cries the Middle-Westerner, "Mrs. Jones +isn't here yet, is she? She can't use the chairs <i>now</i>, can +she, if she isn't here?"</p> + +<p>Even without this evidence that he does not grasp at +all, the seriousness of the beach-chair situation, the fact +that the uncouth stranger has referred to Mrs. H. S. +Jumpkinson-Jones merely as "Mrs. Jones," brands him +among the Palm Beach "regulars" who have overheard +him, as a barbarian of the barbarians. People in neighboring +chairs at once turn their backs upon him and +glance at each other knowingly with raised eyebrows. +At this juncture, let us hope, the daughter of the in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_582" id="Page_582">[Pg 582]</a></span>truder +manages to pry him loose; let us hope also that +she takes him aside and tells him what everybody ought +to know: namely, that Mrs. H. S. Jumpkinson-Jones has +been a society leader ever since the "Journal" published +the full-page Sunday story about her having gold fillings +put in her Boston terrier's teeth. That was away +back in 1913, just before she was allowed to get her +divorce from Royal Tewksbury Johnson III of Paris, +Newport, and New York. The day after the divorce +she married her present husband, and up to last year, +when the respective wives of a munitions millionaire +and a moving-picture millionaire began to cut in on her, +no one thought of denying her claim to be the most +wasteful woman in Palm Beach.</p> + +<p>True, she may not come down to the beach to-day, but +in that case it is obviously proper that her chairs—including +those of her dog and her husband—remain magnificently +vacant throughout the bathing hour.</p> + +<p>The lady is, however, likely to appear. She will be +wearing one of the seventy hats which, we have learned +by the papers, she brought with her, and a pint or so of +her lesser pearls. Her dog—which is sometimes served +beside her at table at the Beach Club, and whose diet +is the same as her own, even to strawberries and cream +followed by a demi tasse—will be in attendance; and her +husband, whose diet is even richer, may also appear if +he has recovered from his matutinal headache. Here +she will sit through the hour, gossiping with her friends,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_583" id="Page_583">[Pg 583]</a></span> +watching the antics of several beautiful, dubious women, +camp followers of the rich, who add undoubted interest +to the place; calling languidly to her dog: "<i>Viens, Tou-tou! +Viens vite!</i>" above all waiting patiently, with +crossed knees, for news-service photographers to come +and take her picture—a picture which, when we see it +presently in "Vogue," "Vanity Fair," or a Sunday newspaper, +will present indisputable proof that Mrs. H. S. +Jumpkinson-Jones and the ladies sitting near her (also +with legs crossed) refrained from wearing bathing suits +neither through excessive modesty nor for fear of revealing +deformity of limb.</p> + +<p>Many a Mrs. H. S. Jumpkinson-Jones has beaten her +way to glory by the Palm Beach route. Many of the +names which sound vaguely familiar when you read +them in connection with the story of a jewel robbery, in +lists of "those present," or in an insinuating paragraph +in the tattered copy of "Town Topics" which you pick +up, in lieu of reading matter, from the table in your dentist's +waiting room, first broke into the paradise of the +society column by way of this resort. For a woman +with money and the press-agent type of mind it is not a +difficult thing to accomplish. One must think of sensational +things to do—invent a new fad in dress, or send +one's dog riding each day in a special wheel chair, or +bring down one's own private dancing instructor or golf +instructor at $5,000 for the season. Above all, one must +be nice to the correspondents of newspapers. Never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_584" id="Page_584">[Pg 584]</a></span> +must one forget to do that. Never must one imagine +oneself so securely placed in society columns that one +may forget the reporters who gave one that place.</p> + +<p>One lady who, for several seasons, figured extensively +in the news from Palm Beach, fell into this error. She +thought herself safe, and altered her manner toward +newspaper folk. But, alas! thereupon they altered their +manner toward her. The press clippings sent by the +bureau to which she subscribed became fewer and fewer. +Her sensational feats went unnoticed. At last came a +ball—one of the three big balls of the season; a New +York paper printed a list of names of persons who went +to the ball; a column of names in very small type. Lying +in bed a few mornings later she read through the names +and came to the end without finding her own. Thinking +that she must have skipped it, she read the names over +again with great care. Then she sent for her husband, +and he read them. When it was clear to them both that +her name was actually not there, it is said she went into +hysterics. At all events, her husband came down in a +rage and complained to the hotel management. But +what could the management do? What can they do? +The woman is doomed. The Palm Beach correspondents +who "made" her have been snubbed by her and have +unanimously declared "thumbs down." It is theirs to +give, but let no climber be unmindful of the fact that it +is also theirs to take away!</p> + +<p>As Mrs. H. S. Jumpkinson-Jones looks over the top +of her harem veil she may see a great glistening steam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_585" id="Page_585">[Pg 585]</a></span> +yacht, with rakish masts and funnel, lying off the pier-head; +and down on the sand she may see the young master +and mistress of that yacht: a modest, attractive pair, +possessors of one of the world's great fortunes, yet not +nearly so elaborately dressed, nor so insistent upon their +"position," as the Jumpkinson-Joneses. By raising the +brim of her hat a trifle Mrs. H. S. Jumpkinson-Jones +may see, sweeping in glorious circles above the yacht, +the hydroplane which, when it left the edge of the beach +a few minutes since, blew back with its propeller a stinging +storm of sand, and caused skirts to snap like flags +in a hundred-mile-an-hour hurricane; and in that hydroplane +she knows there is another multimillionaire.</p> + +<p>Near by, sitting disconsolately upon the sand, are the +one-horse Middle-Western millionaire with his wife and +daughter—the three who were ousted from her seats +by the beach-chair man. Mrs. H. S. Jumpkinson-Jones, +like every one who has spent a season, let alone half a +dozen seasons, at Palm Beach, immediately recognizes +the type.</p> + +<p>Father is the leading merchant of his town; mother +the social arbiter; daughter the regnant belle. Father +definitely didn't wish to come here, nor was mother +anxious to, but daughter made them. Often she has +read the lists of prominent arrivals at Palm Beach and +seen alluring pictures of them taken on the sand. She +has dreamed of the place, and in her dreams has seemed +to hear the call of Destiny. Who knows? may it not be +at Palm Beach that she will meet <i>him</i>?—the beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_586" id="Page_586">[Pg 586]</a></span> +and wealthy scion of a noble house who (so the fortune +teller at the Elks' Club bazaar told her) will rescue +her from the narrow life at home, and transport her, as +his bride, into a world of wonder and delight, and footmen +in knee-breeches. Daughter insisted on Palm +Beach. So mother got a lot of pretty clothes for daughter, +and father purchased several yards of green and +yellow railroad tickets, and off they went. They arrived +at Palm Beach. They walked the miles of green +carpeted corridor. They were dazed—as every one +must be who sees them for the first time—at the stunning +size of the hotels. They looked upon the endless +promenade of other visitors. They went to the beach +at bathing hour, to the cocoanut grove at the time for +tea and dancing, in wheel chairs through the jungle +trail and <i>Reve d'Eté</i>, to the waiters' cake walk in the +Poinciana dining room, to the concert at the Breakers, +to the palm room, and to the sea by moonlight; everywhere +they went they saw people, people, people: richly +dressed people, gay people, people who knew quantities +of other people; yet among them all was not one single +being that they had ever seen before. After several +days of this, father met a man he knew—a business +friend from Akron. A precious lot of good that did! +Why didn't father know the two young men who sat +last night at the next table in the dining room? Even +those two would have done just now. Clearly they had +been mad to know her too, for they were likewise feeling +desolate. Perhaps mother can get father to scrape<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_587" id="Page_587">[Pg 587]</a></span> +up an acquaintance with them. But alas, before this +plan can be set in motion, the two young men have +formed their own conclusions as to what Palm Beach +is like when you do not know anybody in the place. +They have departed. Next day, when mother enters +daughter's room to say good night, she finds her weeping; +and next day, to father's infinite relief, they start +for home. So it has gone with many a bush-league +belle.</p> + +<p>Even the Mrs. Jumpkinson-Joneses, satiated though +they be with private cars, press notices, and Palm +Beach, can hardly fail to be sensible to the almost delirious +beauty of the scene at bathing hour.</p> + +<p>Nowhere is the sand more like a deep, warm dust of +yellow gold; nowhere is there a margin of the earth so +splashed with spots of brilliant color: sweaters, parasols, +bathing suits, canvas shelters—blue, green, purple, pink, +yellow, orange, scarlet—vibrating together in the sharp +sunlight like brush marks on a high-keyed canvas by +Sorolla; nowhere has flesh such living, glittering beauty +as the flesh of long, white, lovely arms which flash out, +cold and dripping, from the sea; nowhere does water appear +less like water, more like a flowing waste of liquid +emeralds and sapphires, held perpetually in cool solution +and edged with a thousand gleaming, flouncing strings +of pearls.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p588jpg" id="p588jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p588.jpg" width="600" height="333" alt="Nowhere is the sand more like a deep warm dust of yellow gold; nowhere is there a margin of the earth so splashed +with spots of brilliant color; nowhere is water less like water, more like a flowing waste of liquid emeralds +and sapphires edged with a thousand gleaming flouncing strings of pearls" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Nowhere is the sand more like a deep warm dust of yellow gold; nowhere is there a margin of the earth so splashed +with spots of brilliant color; nowhere is water less like water, more like a flowing waste of liquid emeralds +and sapphires edged with a thousand gleaming flouncing strings of pearls</span> +</div> + +<p>Over the beach lies a layer of people, formed in +groups, some of them costumed for the water, some for +the shore; some of them known to the great lady, many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_588" id="Page_588">[Pg 588]</a></span> +of them unknown to her. The groups are forever shifting +as their members rise and run down to the sea, or +come back shiny and dripping, to fling themselves again +upon the warm sand, roll in it, or stretch out in lazy comfort +while their friends shovel it over them with their +hands. Now one group, or another, will rise and form a +grinning row while a snap-shot is taken; now they recline +again; now they scamper down to see the hydroplane +come in; now they return, drop to the sand, and +idly watch women bathers tripping past them toward the +water. Here comes a girl in silken knickerbockers, with +cuffs buttoning over her stockings like the cuffs of riding +breeches. Heads turn simultaneously as she goes by. +Here is a tomboy in a jockey cap; here two women +wearing over their bathing suits brilliant colored satin +wraps which flutter revealingly in the warm, fresh fragrant +breeze. And now comes the slender, aristocratic, +foreign-looking beauty who wears high-heeled slippers +with her bathing costume, and steps gracefully to the +water's edge under the shade of a bright colored Japanese +parasol. It seems that every one must now be on +the beach. But no! Here come the three most wonderful +of all: the three most watched, most talked about, +most spoiled, most coveted young women at Palm Beach. +Their bathing suits are charming: very short, high +waisted, and cut at the top like Empire evening gowns, +showing lovely arms and shoulders. Hovering about +them, like flies about a box of sweets, yet also with something +of the jealous guardianship of watchdogs, is their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_589" id="Page_589">[Pg 589]</a></span> +usual escort of young men—for though they know none +of the fashionable women, their beauty gives them a +power of wide selection as to masculine society.</p> + +<p>One is a show girl, famous in the way such girls become +famous in a New York season, vastly prosperous +(if one may judge by appearances), yet with a prosperity +founded upon the capitalization of youth and +amazing loveliness of person. The other two, less advertised, +but hardly less striking in appearance, have +been nicknamed, for the convenience of the gossips, +"The Queen of Sheba," and "The Queen of the May." +They too suggest, somehow, association with the trivial +stage, but it is said that one of them—the slender wonderfully +rounded one—has never had the footlights in +her face, but has been (in some respects, at least), a +model.</p> + +<p>Like the climbers, like the bush league belle, these +girls, we judge, brought definite ambitions with them to +Palm Beach. Partly, no doubt, they came for pleasure, +but also one hears stories of successful ventures made +by men, on their behalf, at Beach Club tables, and of +costly rings and brooches which they now possess, although +they did not bring them with them. But after +all, the sources from which come their jeweled trinkets +may only be surmised, whereas, to the success of their +desire for fun, the eyes and ears of the entire smiling +beach bear witness. Watch them as they clasp hands +and run down to the water's edge; see them prancing +playfully where the waves die on the sand, while devoted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_590" id="Page_590">[Pg 590]</a></span> +swains launch the floating mattress upon which it is their +custom to bask so picturesquely; see them now as they +rush into the green waves and mount the softly rocking +thing; observe the gleam of their white arms as, idly, +they splash and paddle; note the languid grace of their +recumbence: chins on hands, heels waving lazily in +air; hear them squeal in inharmonious unison, as a young +member of the "Browning Club," makes as though to +splatter them, or mischievously threatens to overturn +their unwieldy couchlike craft. Free from the restriction +of ideas about "society," about the "tradition" of +Palm Beach, about "convention," they seem to detect +no difference between this resort and certain summer +beaches, more familiar to them, and at the same time +more used to boisterousness and cachinnation. They go +everywhere, these girls. You will see them having big +cocktails, in a little while, on the porch of the Breakers; +you will see them having tea, and dancing under the dry +rustling palm fronds of the cocoanut grove, when the +colored electric lights begin to glow in the luminous semi-tropical +twilight; and you will see them, resplendent, +at the Beach Club, dining, or playing at the green-topped +tables.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p576jpg" id="p576jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p576.jpg" width="600" height="396" alt="You will see them having tea, and dancing under the palm fronds of the cocoanut grove, when the electric lights begin +to glow in the luminous semi-tropical twilight" title="" /> +<span class="caption">You will see them having tea, and dancing under the palm fronds of the cocoanut grove, when the electric lights begin +to glow in the luminous semi-tropical twilight</span> +</div> + +<p>The Beach Club has been for some time, I suppose, the +last redoubt held in this country by the forces of open, +or semi-open gambling. Every now and then one hears +a rumor that it is to be stormed and taken by the hosts of +legislative piety, yet on it goes, upon its gilded way—a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_591" id="Page_591">[Pg 591]</a></span> +place, it should be said, of orderly, spectacular distinction. +The Beach Club occupies a plain white house, +low-spreading and unpretentious, but fitted most agreeably +within, and boasting a superb cuisine. Not every +one is admitted. Members have cards, and must be +vouched for, formally, by persons known to those who +operate the place. Many of the quiet pleasant people +who, leading their own lives regardless of the splurging +going on about them, form the background of Palm +Beach life—much as "walking ladies and gentlemen" +form the crowd in a spectacular theatrical production—have +never seen the inside of the Beach Club; and I have +little doubt that many visitors who drop in at Palm +Beach for a few days never so much as hear of it. It is +not run for them, nor for the "piker," nor for the needy +clerk, but for the furious spenders.</p> + +<p>Let us therefore view the Beach Club only as an interesting +adjunct to Palm Beach life, and let us admit +that, as such, it is altogether in the picture. Let us, +in short, seek, upon this brief excursion, not only to +recover from our case of grippe, but to recover also +that sense of the purely esthetic, without regard to moral +issues, which we used to enjoy some years ago, before +our legislatures legislated virtue into us. Let us soar, +upon the wings of our checkbook, in one final flight +to the realms of unalloyed beauty. Let us, in considering +this most extravagantly passionate and passionately +extravagant of American resorts, be great artists, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_592" id="Page_592">[Pg 592]</a></span> +are above morals. Let us refuse pointblank to consider +morals at all. For by so doing we may avoid giving +ourselves away.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The season wanes. Crowds on the beach grow thinner. +Millionaires begin to move their private cars from +Palm Beach sidings, and depart for other fashionable +places farther north. Croupiers at the Beach Club +stand idle for an hour at a time, though ready to spin the +wheel, invitingly, for any one who saunters in. The +shops hold cut-price sales. And we, regarding somewhat +sadly our white trousers, perceive that there does +not remain a single spotless pair. The girl in Mr. Foster's +fruit store has more leisure, now, and smiles agreeably +as we pass upon our way to the hotel dining-room. +The waiter, likewise, is not pressed for time.</p> + +<p>"They was seven-hunduhd an' twe've folks heah yestahday," +he says. "On'y six-fohty-three to-day. Ah +reckon they a-goin' t' close the Breakuhs day aftuh t'-mo'w."</p> + +<p>Still the flowers bloom; still the place is beautiful; still +the weather is not uncomfortably warm. Nevertheless +the season dies. And so it comes about that we depart.</p> + +<p>The ride through Florida is tedious. The miles of +palmettoes, with leaves glittering like racks of bared cutlasses +in the sun, the miles of dark swamp, in which the +cypresses seem to wade like dismal club-footed men, the +miles of live-oak strung with their sad tattered curtains +of Spanish moss, the miles of sandy waste, of pineapple<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_593" id="Page_593">[Pg 593]</a></span> +and orange groves, of pines with feathery palm-like tops, +above all the sifting of fine Florida dust, which covers +everything inside the car as with a coat of flour—these +make you wish that you were North again.</p> + +<p>The train stops at a station. You get off to walk +upon the platform. The row of hackmen and hotel porters +stand there, in gloomy silent defiance of the rapidly +approaching end of things, each holding a sign bearing +the name of some hotel. In another week the railway +company may, if it wishes, lift the ban on shouting hotel +runners. Let them shout. There will be nobody to +hear.</p> + +<p>You buy a newspaper.</p> + +<p>Ah! What is this? "Great Blizzard in New York—Trains +Late—Wires Down."</p> + +<p>You know what New York blizzards are. You picture +the scenes being enacted there to-day. You see the +icy streets with horses falling down. You see cyclonic +clouds of snow whirl savagely around the corners of +high buildings, pelting the homegoing hoards, whirling +them about, throwing women down upon street crossings. +You have a vision of the muddy, slushy subway +steps, and slimy platforms, packed with people, their +clothing caked with wet white spangles. You see them +wedged, cross and damp, into the trains, and hear them +coughing into one another's necks. You see emaciated +tramps, pausing to gaze wanly into bakery windows: +men without overcoats, their collars turned up, their +hands deep in the pockets of their trousers, their heads<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_594" id="Page_594">[Pg 594]</a></span> +bent against the storm; you see them walk on to +keep from freezing. You remember Roscoe Conkling. +That sort of thing can happen in a New York blizzard! +Little tattered newsboys, thinly clad, will die to-night +upon cold corners. Poor widows, lacking money to buy +coal, are shuddering even now in squalid tenements, and +covering their wailing little ones with shoddy blankets.</p> + +<p>"Horrible!" you say, sighing upon the balmy air. +Then, with the sweetly resigned philosophy of Palm +Beach, you add:</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, what does it matter? <i>I'm</i> in Florida anyhow. +After all it is a pretty good old world!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_595" id="Page_595">[Pg 595]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIV" id="CHAPTER_LIV"></a>CHAPTER LIV<br /> +<br /> +ASSORTED AND RESORTED FLORIDA</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Some year or more ago, I s'pose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I roamed from Maine to Floridy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And,—see where them Palmettoes grows?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I bought that little key...."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Sidney Lanier ("A Florida Ghost.")<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Florida in winter comes near to being all things +to all men. To all she offers amusement plus +her climate, and in no one section is the contrast +in what amusement constitutes, and costs, set forth +more sharply than where, on the west coast of the State, +Belleair and St. Petersburg are situated, side by side.</p> + +<p>The Hotel Belleview at Belleair compares favorably +with any in the State, and is peopled, during the cold +months, with affluent golf maniacs, for whom two fine +courses have been laid out.</p> + +<p>When the pipes supplying water for the greens of +his home course, at Brook, Indiana, freeze, annually, +George Ade, for instance, knows that, instead of hibernating, +it is time for him to take his white flannel suits, +hang them on the clothesline in the back yard until the +fragrance of the moth-ball has departed, pack them in +his wardrobe trunk, and take his winter flight to the +Belleview. He knows that, at the Belleview, he will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_596" id="Page_596">[Pg 596]</a></span> +meet hundreds of men and women who are suffering +from the malady with which he is afflicted.</p> + +<p>The conversation at Belleair is, so far as my companion +and I could learn, confined entirely to comparisons +between different courses, different kinds of clubs +and balls, and different scores. Belleair turns up its +nose at Palm Beach. It considers the game of golf as +played at Palm Beach a trifling game, and it feels that +the winter population of Palm Beach wastes a lot of +time talking about clothes and the stock market when it +might be discussing cleeks, midirons, and mashies. +The woman who thinks it essential to be blond whether +she is blond or not, and who regards Forty-second +Street as the axle upon which the universe turns, would +be likely to die of ennui in a week at Belleair, whereas, +in Palm Beach, if she died in that time, it would probably +be of delight—with a possibility of alcoholism as a +contributing cause. And likewise, though Belleair has +plutocrats in abundance, they are not starred for their +wealth, as are the Palm Beach millionaires, nor yet for +their social position, but are rated strictly according to +their club handicap. Hence it happens that if, speaking +of a Palm Beach millionaire, you ask: "How did +he make it?" you will be told the story of some combine +of trusts, some political grafting, or some widely advertised +patent medicine; but if you ask in Belleair: "How +did he make it?" the answer is likely to be: "He made +it in 4, with a cleek."</p> + +<p>Consider on the other hand, St. Petersburg, with its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_597" id="Page_597">[Pg 597]</a></span> +cheap hotels, its boarding houses, its lunch rooms and +cafeterias, and its winter population of farmers and +their wives from the North. The people you see in St. +Petersburg are identical with those you might see on +market day in a county town of Ohio or Indiana. Several +thousands of them come annually from several +dozen States, and many a family of them lives through +the winter comfortably on less than some other families +spend at Belleair in a week, or at Palm Beach in a day.</p> + +<p>If I am any judge of the signs of happiness, there +is plenty of it in the hearts of those who winter +at St. Petersburg. The city park is full of contented +people, most of them middle-aged or old. The women +listen to the band, and the men play checkers under the +palmetto-thatched shelter, or toss horseshoes on the +greensward, at the sign of the Sunshine Pleasure Club—an +occupation which is St. Petersburg's equivalent +for Palm Beach's game of tossing chips on the green-topped +tables of a gambling house. And yet—</p> + +<p>Is it always pleasant to be virtuous? Is it always delightful +to be where pious people, naïve people, people +who love simple pastimes, are enjoying themselves? I +am reminded of a talk I had with a negro whose strong +legs turned the pedals of a wheel chair in which my companion +and I rode one day through the Palm Beach +jungle trail. It is a wonderful place, that jungle, with +its tangled trunks and vines and its green foliage swimming +in sifted sunlight; with its palms, palmettoes, ferns, +and climbing morning-glories, its banana trees, gnarled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_598" id="Page_598">[Pg 598]</a></span> +rubber banyans, and wild mangoes—which are like +trees growing upside down, digging their spreading +branches into the ground. For a time we forgot the +pedaling negro behind us, but a faint puffing sound on a +slight up-grade reminded us, presently, that our party +was not of two, but three. When the chair was running +free again, one of us inquired of the chairman:</p> + +<p>"What would you do if you had a million dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Well, boss," replied the negro seriously, "Ah knows +one thing Ah'd do. No mattuh how much o' dis worl's +goods Ah haid, Ah'd allus get mah exuhcize."</p> + +<p>"That's wise," my companion replied. "What kind +of exercise would you take?"</p> + +<p>"Ah ain't nevvuh jest stedied dat out, boss," returned +the man. "But it sho' would be some kind o' +exuhcize besides pushin' one o' dese-heah chaihs."</p> + +<p>"When you weren't exercising would you go and +have a good time?"</p> + +<p>"No, boss."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, boss, y' see Ah's a 'ligious man, Ah is."</p> + +<p>"But can't people who are religious have a good +time?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the negro, "dey might have deh little +pleasuhs now an' den, but dey cain't hev no sich good +times like othah folks kin. A man 't 's a 'ligious man, +he cain't hev no sich good times like Mistuh Wahtuhbe'y's +an' dem folks 'at was heah up to laist week. Ah +was Mistuh Wahtuhbe'y's chaih boy. He gimme ninety-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_599" id="Page_599">[Pg 599]</a></span>two +dollahs an' fifty cents tips one week! Yassuh! +Dat might be <i>cha'ity</i> but 't ain't 'ligion. Mistuh Dodge, +his chaih boy's been a-wohkin' foh 'im six weeks. +I 'spec' Mistuh Dodge give dat boy fahve hund'ud dollahs +if he give 'im a cent! Mistuh Wahtuhbe'y's pahty, +dey haid nineteen chaihs waitin' on 'em all de time, jest +foh t' drive 'em f'om de <i>ho-</i>tel to de club, an' de casino. +Dat cos' 'em nineteen hund'ud dollahs a week, and de +boys, dey ain't one o'em 'at git less'n hund'ud dolluhs +fo' hisself. Dat's de kin' o' gen'men Mistuh Wahtuhbe'y +an' his pahty is. Ah's haid sev'ul gen'men dis +season dat ain't what you'd jes' say, 'ligious, but dey +was, as folks calls it, p'ofuse. Dey was one ol' gen'man +heah two weeks, an' deh was a young lady what he haid +a attachment on, an' evvy evenin' 'e use' t' take huh foh +a wheel-chaih ride in de moonlight. Fuhst night Ah +took 'em out he tuhn to me, an' he says: 'Look-a-heah, +boy! You sho you knows youah duties?'</p> + +<p>"'Yassuh, boss,' Ah tell 'im. 'Deed Ah does!'</p> + +<p>"'Den what is youah duties den?' sez 'e.</p> + +<p>"Ah say: 'Boss, de chaih boy's duties, dey's to be +dumb, an' deef, an' blin', an' dey cain't see nothin', an' +dey cain't say nothin', an' dey cain't heah nothin', and +dey cain't—'</p> + +<p>"'Dass 'nuff,' he say. 'Ah sees you knows youah +business. Heah's fiffy dollahs.'"</p> + +<p>"Well," one of us asked presently, "what happened?"</p> + +<p>"Ah took 'em ridin' through de jungle trail, boss," he +returned, innocently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_600" id="Page_600">[Pg 600]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What did they do?"</p> + +<p>"How does Ah know, boss? Di'n' Ah have ma eyes +covuhed wi' dat fiffy dollahs? Di'n' Ah have ma eahs +stuff' wid it? Yassuh! An' Ah got ma <i>mouf</i> full o' +it <i>yit</i>!"</p> + +<p>The chair boys, bell boys, waiters, barbers, porters, +bartenders, waitresses, chambermaids, manicures, and +shop attendants one finds in Palm Beach, Belleair, Miami, +and many other winter resorts, are, numerically, +a not inconsiderable part of the season's population, and +the lives of these people who form a background of service, +of which many an affluent visitor is hardly conscious, +parallel the lives of the rich in a manner that is +not without a note of caricature.</p> + +<p>When the rich go South so do the hordes that serve +them; when the Florida season begins to close and the +rich move northward, the serving population likewise +begins to melt away; if you are in Palm Beach near the +season's end, and move up to St. Augustine, or Jacksonville, +or Augusta, or any one of a dozen other places, +you are likely to recognize, here and there, a waiter, a +bell-boy, or a chambermaid whom you tipped, some +weeks earlier, preparatory to leaving a latitude several +degrees nearer the Equator. When you leave the Poinciana +or the Breakers at the season's close, your waiter +may, for all you know, be in the Jim Crow car, ahead, +and when you go in to dinner at the Ponce de Leon at +St. Augustine, or the Mason at Jacksonville, you may +discover that he too has stopped off there for a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_601" id="Page_601">[Pg 601]</a></span> +days, to gather in the final tips. Nor must you fancy, +when you depart for the North, that you have seen the +last of him. Next summer when you take a boat up the +Hudson, or go to Boston by the Fall River Line, or drop +in at a hotel at Saratoga, there he will be, like an old +friend. The bartender who mixes you a pick-me-up on +the morning that you leave the Breakers, will be ready +to start you on the downward path, at the beginning of +the summer, at some Northern country club; the barber +who cuts your hair at the Royal Palm in Miami will be +ready to perform a like service, later on, at some +hotel in the Adirondacks or the White Mountains; +the neat waitress who serves you at the Belleview at +Belleair will appear before you three or four months +hence at the Griswold near New London; the adept +waiter from the Beach Club at Palm Beach will +seem to you to look like some one you have seen before +when, presently, he places viands before you at +Sherry's, or the Ritz, or some fashionable restaurant in +London or Paris. Likewise, when you enter the barber +shop of a large hostelry just off the board walk in Atlantic +City, next July, you will find there, in the same +generously ventilated shirt waist, the manicurist who +caused your nails to glisten so superbly in the Florida +sunlight; and if she has the memory for faces which is +no small part of a successful manicurist's stock in trade, +she will remember you, and where she saw you last, and +will tell you just which of the young women from "The +Follies" and the Century Theater are to be seen upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_602" id="Page_602">[Pg 602]</a></span> +the beach that day, and whether they are wearing, here +on the Jersey coast, those same surprising bathing suits +which, last February, caused blasé gentlemen basking +upon the Florida sands to sit up, arise, say it was time +for one last dip before luncheon, and then, without seeming +too deliberate about it, follow the amazing nymphs +in the direction of a matchless sea—that sea which, as a +background for these Broadway girls in their long silken +hosiery, takes on a tone of spectacular unreality, like +some fantastic marine back drop devised by Mr. Dillingham +or Mr. Ziegfeld.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"> +<a name="p581jpg" id="p581jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p581.jpg" width="457" height="600" alt="Cocktail hour at The Breakers" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Cocktail hour at The Breakers</span> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_603" id="Page_603">[Pg 603]</a></span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LV" id="CHAPTER_LV"></a>CHAPTER LV<br /> +<br /> +A DAY IN MONTGOMERY</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have walk'd in Alabama<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My morning walk....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>As I have remarked before, it is a long haul from +the peninsula of Florida to New Orleans. +There are two ways to go. The route by way +of Pensacola, following the Gulf Coast, looks shorter on +the map but is, I believe, in point of time consumed, the +longer way. My companion and I were advised to go +by way of Montgomery, Alabama—a long way around +it looked—where we were to change trains, catching a +New Orleans-bound express from the North.</p> + +<p>It was nearly midnight when, after a long tiresome +journey, we arrived in Alabama's capital, and after +midnight when we reached the comfortable if curiously +called Hotel Gay-Teague, which is not named for an +Indian chief or a kissing game, but for two men who +had to do with building it.</p> + +<p>We had heard that Montgomery was a quiet, sleepy +old town, and had expected to go immediately to bed on +our arrival. What then was our amazement at hearing, +echoing through the wide street in front of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_604" id="Page_604">[Pg 604]</a></span> +hotel, the sound of strident ragtime. Investigation disclosed +a gaudily striped tent of considerable size set up +in the street and illuminated by those flaring naphtha +lamps they use in circuses. Going over to the tent, we +learned that there was dancing within, whereupon we +paid our fifteen cents apiece and entered. I have forgotten +what produced the music—it may have been a +mechanical piano or a hurdy-gurdy—but there was +music, and it was loud, and there was a platform laid +over the cobble-stones of the street, and on that platform +ten or more couples were "ragging," their shoulders +working like the walking beams of side-wheelers. +The men were of that nondescript type one would expect +to see in a fifteen-cent dancing place, but the women +were of curious appearance, for all were dressed alike, +the costume being a fringed khaki suit with knee-length +skirt, a bandana at the neck, and a sombrero. On inquiry +I learned that this was called a "cowgirl" costume. +The dances were very brief, and in the intervals +between them most of the dancers went to +a "bar" at the end of the tent where (Alabama +being a dry State) the beverage called "coca-cola"—a +habit as much as a drink—was being served in whisky +glasses.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p600jpg" id="p600jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p600.jpg" width="600" height="460" alt="The couples on the platform were "ragging," their shoulders working like the walking-beams of side-wheelers" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The couples on the platform were "ragging," their shoulders working like the walking-beams of side-wheelers</span> +</div> + +<p>Unable to understand why this pageant of supposed +western mining-camp life should confront us in the +streets of Alabama's capital, I made inquiry of an amiable +policeman who was on duty in the tent, and learned +that this was not a regular Montgomery institution, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_605" id="Page_605">[Pg 605]</a></span> +one of the attractions of a street fair which had invaded +the city—the main body of the fair being a block or two +distant.</p> + +<p>These fairs, he said, travel about the country much +as circuses do, making arrangements in advance with +various organizations in different places to stand sponsor +for them.</p> + +<p>Long after we were in our beds that night we were +kept awake by the sound of ragtime from the tent across +the way. I arose next morning with the feeling of one +who has had insufficient sleep, and a glance at my companion, +who was already at table when I reached the +hotel dining room, informed me that he was suffering +from a like complaint. I took my seat opposite him in +silence, and he acknowledged my presence with a nod +which he accomplished without looking up from his +newspaper.</p> + +<p>After breakfast there arrived a pleasant gentleman +who announced himself as secretary of one of the city's +commercial organizations.</p> + +<p>"We have a motor here," said the secretary, "and will +show you points of interest. Is there anything in particular +you wish to see?"</p> + +<p>"I think," said my companion, "that it would be a +good thing to see the street fair."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said the secretary earnestly. "You don't +want to see that. There is nothing about it that is representative +of Montgomery. It is just a traveling show +such as you might run into anywhere."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_606" id="Page_606">[Pg 606]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "but we never <i>have</i> run into one before, +and here it is."</p> + +<p>"I have said right along," declared the secretary, +somberly, "that it was a great mistake to bring this fair +here at all. I don't think you ought to pay any attention +to it in your book. It will give people a wrong impression +of our city."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it will, if I explain that it is just a +traveling fair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Wait until you see what we have to show you. +We want you to understand that Montgomery is a thriving +metropolis, sir!"</p> + +<p>"What is there to see?"</p> + +<p>"Montgomery," he replied, "is known as 'The City of +Sunshine.' It is rich in history. It has superior hotels, +picturesque highways, good fishing and hunting, two +golf courses, seven theaters, a number of tennis courts, +and unsurpassed artesian water. It has free factory +sites, the cheapest electric power rates in the United +States, and is the best-lighted city in the country."</p> + +<p>"We have some pretty fair street lighting in New +York," interjected my companion, who takes much pride +in his home town.</p> + +<p>"I said '<i>one</i> of the best lighted,'" replied the secretary.</p> + +<p>"What is the population?"</p> + +<p>"Montgomery," the other returned, "is typical of +both the Old and the New South. Though it may be +called a modern model city, its wealth of history and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_607" id="Page_607">[Pg 607]</a></span> +tradition are preserved with loving care by its myriad +inhabitants."</p> + +<p>"How many inhabitants?"</p> + +<p>"Roses and other flowers are in bloom here throughout +the year," said he. "Also there are six hundred +miles of macadamized and picturesque highways in +Montgomery County. Indeed, this region is a motorist's +paradise."</p> + +<p>"How many people did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Montgomery," he answered, "is the trading center +for a million prosperous souls."</p> + +<p>At this my companion, who had been reading up +Montgomery in a guidebook, began to bristle with hidden +knowledge.</p> + +<p>"You say there are a million people here?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Not right <i>here</i>," admitted the secretary.</p> + +<p>"Well, how many do you claim?"</p> + +<p>"Fifty-five thousand four hundred and ten."</p> + +<p>"Right <i>in</i> the city?"</p> + +<p>"Well, in the trolley-car territory."</p> + +<p>"But in the city itself?" my companion insisted.</p> + +<p>The secretary was fairly cornered. "The 1910 census," +he said, with a smile, "gave us about forty thousand."</p> + +<p>"Thirty-eight thousand one hundred and thirty-six," +corrected my companion. He had not spent hours with +the guidebook for nothing.</p> + +<p>When, presently, we got into the automobile, I gave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_608" id="Page_608">[Pg 608]</a></span> +another feeble chirp about the fair, but the secretary +was adamant, so we yielded temporarily, and were +whirled about the city.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Montgomery is a charming old town, not only by +reason of the definite things it has to show, but also because +of a general rich suggestion of old southern +life.</p> + +<p>The day, by a fortunate chance, was Saturday, and +everywhere we went we encountered negroes driving in +from the country to market, in their rickety old wagons. +On some wagons there would be four or five men and +women, and here and there one would be playing a +musical instrument and they would all be singing, while +the creaking of the wagon came in with an orchestral +quality which seemed grotesquely suitable. The +mules, too, looked as though they ought to creak, and an +inspection of the harness suggested that it was held together, +not so much by the string and wire with which +it was mended, as by the fingers of that especial Providence +which watches over all kinds of absurd repairs +made by negroes, and makes them hold for negroes, +where they would not hold for white men.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<a name="p613jpg" id="p613jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p613.jpg" width="411" height="500" alt="Harness held together by that especial Providence which watches over negro +mendings" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Harness held together by that especial Providence which watches over negro +mendings</span> +</div> + +<p>In an old buff-painted brick building standing on the +corner of Commerce and Bibb Streets, the Confederate +Government had its first offices, and from this building, +if I mistake not, was sent the telegraphic order to fire +on Fort Sumter. Another historical building is the +dilapidated frame residence at the corner of Bibb and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_609" id="Page_609">[Pg 609]</a></span> +Lee Streets, which was the first "White House of the +Confederacy." This building is now a boarding house, +and is in a pathetic state of decay. But perhaps when +Montgomery gets up the energy to build a fine tourist +hotel, or when outside capital comes in and builds one, +the old house will be furbished up to provide a "sight" +for visitors.</p> + +<p>There are several reasons why Montgomery would +be a good place for a large winter-resort hotel, and if I +were a Montgomery "booster" I should give less thought +to free factory sites than to building up the town as a +winter stopping place for tourists. The town itself is +picturesque and attractive; as to railroads it is well situated +(albeit the claim that Montgomery is the "Gateway +to Florida" strikes me as a little bit exaggerated); the +climate is delightful, and the surrounding country is not +only beautiful but fertile. Furthermore, there are already +two golf clubs—one for Jews and one for Gentiles—and +the links are reputed to be good.</p> + +<p>Unlike many southern cities of moderate size, Montgomery +has well-paved streets, and the better residence +streets, being wide, and lined with trees and pleasant +houses, each in its own lawn, give a suggestion of an +agreeable home and social life—a suggestion which, by +implication at least, report substantiates: for it has been +said that the chief industry of Montgomery is that of +raising beautiful young women to make wives for the +rich men of Birmingham.</p> + +<p>On such pleasant thoroughfares as South Perry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_610" id="Page_610">[Pg 610]</a></span> +Street, it may be noticed that many of the newer houses +have taken their architectural inspiration from old ones, +with the result that, though "originality" does not jump +out at the passer-by, as it does on so many streets, North +and South, which are lined with the heterogeneous +homes of prosperous families, there is an agreeable +architectural harmony over the town.</p> + +<p>This is not, of course, invariably true, but it is truer, +I think, in Montgomery than in most other cities, and +if Montgomery is defaced by the funny little settlement +called Bungalow City, that settlement is, at least, upon +the outskirts of the town. Bungalow City is without +exception the queerest real-estate development I ever +saw. It consists of several blocks of tiny houses, standing +on tiny lots, the scale of everything being so small +as to suggest a play village for children. The houses +are, however, homes, and I was told that in some of +them all sorts of curious space-saving devices are installed—as, +for instance, tables and beds which can be +folded into the walls. Not far from this little settlement +is an old house which used to be the home of Tweed, +New York's notorious political boss, who, it is said, +used to spend much time here.</p> + +<p>The chief lion of the city is the old State House, which +stands on a graceful eminence in a small well-kept park. +Just as the New York State Capitol is probably the most +shamefully expensive structure of the kind in the entire +country, that of Alabama is, I fancy, the most creditably +inexpensive. Building and grounds cost $335,000.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_611" id="Page_611">[Pg 611]</a></span> +Moreover, the Capitol of Alabama is a better-looking +building than that of New York, for it is without gingerbread +trimmings, and has about it the air of honest simplicity +that an American State House ought to have. Of +course it has a dome, and of course it has a columned +portico, but both are plain, and there is a large clock, in +a quaint box-like tower, over the peak of the portico, +which contributes to the building a curious touch of individuality. +At the center of the portico floor, under +this clock, a brass plate marks the spot where Jefferson +Davis stood when he delivered his inaugural address, +February 18, 1861, and in the State Senate Chamber, +within—a fine simple room with a gallery of peculiar +grace—the Provisional Government of the Confederacy +was organized. The flag of the Confederacy was, I believe, +adopted in this room, and was first flung to the +breeze from the Capitol building.</p> + +<p>It was past three in the afternoon when we left the +State House, and we had had no luncheon.</p> + +<p>"Now," said my companion as we returned to the +automobile, "I think we had better have something to +eat, and then go to the fair."</p> + +<p>"But you were going to give up the fair," put in the +secretary.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," we said in chorus.</p> + +<p>"I have arranged about luncheon," he returned. +"We will have it served at the hotel in a short time. +But first there are some important sights I wish you to +see."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_612" id="Page_612">[Pg 612]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Man shall not live by sights alone," objected my companion. +"What are you going to show us?"</p> + +<p>"We have a beautiful woman's college."</p> + +<p>"That," said my companion, "is the one thing that +could tempt me. How many beautiful women are +there?"</p> + +<p>"It's not the women—it's the building," the secretary +explained.</p> + +<p>"Then," said my companion firmly, "I think we'd better +go and have our lunch."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me time to back him up in this demand. +By dint of considerable insistence we persuaded our enthusiastic +cicerone to drive to the hotel, where we found +a table already set for us.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you," said the secretary as we sat +down, "about the agricultural progress this section has +been making. Until recently our farmers raised nothing +but cotton; they didn't even feed themselves, but +lived largely on canned goods. But the boll weevil and +the European War, affecting the cotton crop and the +cotton market as they did, forced the farmers to wake +up."</p> + +<p>The secretary talked interestingly on this subject for +perhaps a quarter of an hour, during which time we +waited for luncheon to be served.</p> + +<p>"You see," he said, "our climate is such that it is possible +to rotate crops more than in most parts of the +country. Cotton is now a surplus crop with us, and our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_613" id="Page_613">[Pg 613]</a></span> +farmers are raising cattle, vegetables, and food products."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of food products," said my companion, "I +wonder if we could hurry up the lunch?"</p> + +<p>"It will be along in a little while," soothed the secretary. +Then he returned to agriculture.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes more passed. I saw that my companion +was becoming nervous.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to trouble you," he said at last, "but if we +can't speed up this luncheon, I don't see how I can wait. +You see, we are leaving town this evening, and I have +an awful lot to do."</p> + +<p>"I'll step back and investigate," the secretary said, +rising and moving toward the kitchen door.</p> + +<p>When he was out of hearing, my companion leaned +toward me.</p> + +<p>"I suspect this fellow!" he said.</p> + +<p>"What of?"</p> + +<p>"I think he's delaying us on purpose. He's a nice +chap, but it's his business to boost this town, and he's +artful. He doesn't want us to see the street fair. +That's why he's stalling like this!"</p> + +<p>Now, however, the secretary returned, followed by a +waiter bearing soup.</p> + +<p>The soup was fine, but it was succeeded by another +long interval, during which the secretary said some +very, very beautiful things about the charm of Montgomery +life. However, it was clear to me that my com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_614" id="Page_614">[Pg 614]</a></span>panion +was not interested. After he had looked at his +watch several times, and drummed a long tattoo upon +the table, he arose, declaring:</p> + +<p>"I can't wait another minute."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, my dear fellow," said the secretary in his +most genial tone. "I am having some special southern +dishes prepared for you."</p> + +<p>"You're very kind," said my companion, "but I must +get to work. It's half-past four now; we are leaving +in a few hours. It will take me an hour to make my +sketches, and the light will be failing pretty soon."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to sketch?" It seemed to me +that there was suppressed emotion in the secretary's +voice as he asked the question.</p> + +<p>"Why, the street fair."</p> + +<p>"Surely, you're not going to <i>draw</i> it?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"It's not representative of Montgomery. You ought +to do something representative! What pictures have +you made here?"</p> + +<p>"I made one of those negroes driving in to market," +said my companion, "and one of the dancing cowgirls +in the tent across the way—the ones who kept us awake +last night."</p> + +<p>"My God!" cried the secretary, turning to me. "You +intend to print such pictures and say that they represent +the normal life of this city?"</p> + +<p>"No, I won't say anything about it."</p> + +<p>"But—" the secretary arose and looked wanly at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_615" id="Page_615">[Pg 615]</a></span> +illustrator—"but you haven't drawn any of our pretty +homes! You didn't draw the golf clubs—not either one +of them! You didn't draw the State House, or the +Confederate Monument, or the Insane Asylum, or +anything!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't had time."</p> + +<p>"Well, you have time now! I tell you what: We'll +let this luncheon go. I'll take you to the top of our +tallest building, and you can draw a panoramic bird's-eye +view of the entire city. That will be worth while."</p> + +<p>My companion reached out, helped himself to a French +roll, and put it in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "I will not go to the top of a high +building with you."</p> + +<p>"But why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because," he replied, "I am afraid you would try to +push me off the roof to prevent my drawing the street +fair."</p> + +<p>I do not remember that the secretary denied having +harbored such a plan. At all events, he countermanded +the remainder of the luncheon order and departed with +us.</p> + +<p>At the entrance of an office building he made one final +desperate appeal: "Just come up to the top floor and +see the view!"</p> + +<p>But we stood firm, and he continued with us on our +way.</p> + +<p>The fair was strung along both sides of a wide, +cobbled street. It was really a very jolly fair, with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_616" id="Page_616">[Pg 616]</a></span> +usual lot of barkers and the usual gaping crowd, plus +many negroes, who stood fascinated before the highly +colored canvas signs outside the tents, with their bizarre +pictures of wild animals, snake charmers, "Nemo, the +Malay Prince," and "The Cigarette Fiend," pictured +as a ghastly emaciated object with a blue complexion, +and billed as "Endorsed by the Anti-Cigarette League +of America." I wished to inquire why an anti-cigarette +league should indorse a cigarette fiend, but lack of time +compelled us to press on, leaving the apparent paradox +unsolved.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<a name="p616jpg" id="p616jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p616.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="It was a very jolly fair, with the usual lot of barkers and the usual gaping crowd" title="" /> +<span class="caption">It was a very jolly fair, with the usual lot of barkers and the usual gaping crowd</span> +</div> + +<p>As we progressed between the tents and the booths +with their catchpenny "wheels of fortune," and ring-tossing +enticements, the secretary maintained a protesting +silence.</p> + +<p>Near the end of the block we stopped to listen to a +particularly vociferous barker. I saw my companion +take his pad from his pocket and place it under his +arm, while he sharpened a pencil.</p> + +<p>"Come!" cried the secretary. "Come across the +square and let me show you our beautiful bronze fountain. +Draw that!"</p> + +<p>But my companion was already beginning to sketch. +He was drawing the barker and the crowd.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile an expression of horror came into the +secretary's face. Looking at him, I became conscience-stricken.</p> + +<p>"Come away," I said gently, taking him by the arm. +"Don't watch him draw. He draws wonderfully, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_617" id="Page_617">[Pg 617]</a></span> +Art for Art's sake doesn't appeal to you just now. The +better he draws the worse it will make you feel. Let me +get your mind off all this. Let me take you over to the +autodrome, where we can see Mr. O. K. Hager and his +beautiful sister, Miss Olive Hager, the 'Two Daredevil +Motorcyclists, in the Thrilling Race against Death.' +That will make you forget."</p> + +<p>"No," said the secretary, shaking his head with a despondency +the very sight of which made me sad; "I have +letters to sign at the office."</p> + +<p>"And we have taken up your whole day!"</p> + +<p>"It has been a pleasure," he said kindly. "There is +only one thing that worries me. Those drawings are +not going to represent what is typical of Montgomery +life. Not in the least!"</p> + +<p>There arose in me a sudden desire to comfort him.</p> + +<p>"How would it be," I suggested, "if I were to print +that statement in my book?"</p> + +<p>He looked at me in surprise.</p> + +<p>"But you couldn't very well do that, could you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," I replied.</p> + +<p>His face brightened. It was delightful to see the +change come over him.</p> + +<p>"For that matter," I went on, "I might say even more. +I could say that, while I admire my companion as a man, +and as an artist, he lacks ingenuity in ordering breakfast. +He always reads over the menu and then orders +a baked apple and scrambled eggs and bacon. Would +you like me to attack him on that line also?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_618" id="Page_618">[Pg 618]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said the secretary. "Nothing of that kind. +It's just about these pictures. They aren't representative. +If you'll say that, I'll be more than satisfied."</p> + +<p>Presently we parted.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget!" he said as we shook hands in farewell.</p> + +<p>And I have not forgotten. Moreover, to give full +measure, I am going to ask the printer to set the statement +in italics:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>The drawings accompanying this chapter are not representative +of what is typical of Montgomery life.</i></p></div> + +<p>With this statement my companion is in full accord. +He admits that he would have drawn the State House +had there been no fair, to interfere. But, as with certain +items on the breakfast bill, street fairs are a passion +with him. And so they are with me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_619" id="Page_619">[Pg 619]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVI" id="CHAPTER_LVI"></a>CHAPTER LVI<br /> +<br /> +THE CITY OF THE CREOLE</h2> + + +<p>When a poet, a painter, or a sculptor wishes +to personify a city, why does he invariably +give it the feminine gender? Why is this +so, even though the city be named for a man, or for a +masculine saint? And why is it so in the case of commonplace +cities, commercial cities, and ugly, sordid +cities? It is not difficult to understand why a beautiful, +sparkling city, like Washington or Paris, suggests +a handsome woman, richly gowned and bedecked with +jewels, but it is hard to understand why some other +cities, far less pleasing, seem somehow to be stamped +with the qualities of woman-nature rather than man-nature. +Is it perhaps because the nature of all cities is +so complicated? Is it because they are volatile, changeful, +baffling? Or is it only that they are the mothers +of great families of men?</p> + +<p>When I arrive in a strange city I feel as though I +were making the acquaintance of a woman of whom I +have often heard. I am curious about her. I am alert. +I gaze at her eagerly, wondering if she is as I have imagined +her. I try to read her expression while listening +to her voice. I consider her raiment, noticing whether +it is fine, whether it is good only in spots, and whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_620" id="Page_620">[Pg 620]</a></span> +it is well put together. I inspect the important buildings, +boulevards, parks, and monuments with which she +is jeweled, and judge by them not only of her prosperity, +but of her sense of beauty. Before long I have +a distinct impression of her. Sometimes, as with a +woman, this first impression has to be revised; sometimes +not. Sometimes, on acquaintance, a single feature, +or trait, becomes so important in my eyes that all +else seems inconsequential. A noble spirit may cover +physical defects; beauty may seem to compensate for +weaknesses of character. The spell of a beautiful city +which is bad resembles the spell of such a city's prototype +among women.</p> + +<p>Some young growing cities are like young growing +women of whom we think: "She is as yet unformed, +but she will fill out and become more charming as she +grows older." Or again we think: "She is somewhat +dowdy and run down at the heels but she is ambitious, +and is replenishing her wardrobe as she can afford it." +One expects such failings in young cities, and readily +forgives them where there is wholesome promise for +the future. But where old cities become slovenly, the +affair is different, for then it means physical decay, and +physical decay should never come to a city—for a +city is not only feminine, but should be immortal. The +symbol for every city should be a goddess, forever in +her prime.</p> + +<p>Among southern cities Richmond is the <i>grande dame</i>; +she is gray and distinguished, and wears handsome old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_621" id="Page_621">[Pg 621]</a></span> +brocades and brooches. Richmond is aquiline and crisp +and has much "manner." But though Charleston is +actually the older, the wonderful beauty of the place, the +softness of the ancient architectural lines, the sweet +scents wafting from walled gardens, the warmth of +color everywhere, gives the place that very quality of +immortal youth and loveliness which is so rare in cities, +and is so much to be desired. Charleston I might allegorize +in the person of a young woman I met there. I +was in the drawing-room of a fine old house; a beautifully +proportioned room, paneled to the ceiling, hung +with family portraits and other old paintings, and furnished +with mahogany masterpieces a century and a +half old. The girl lived in this house. She was not +exactly pretty, nor was her figure beautiful in the usual +sense; yet it was beautiful, all the same, with a sort of +long-limbed, supple, aristocratic aliveness. Most of all +there was about her a great fineness—the kind of fineness +which seems to be the expression of generations of +fineness. She was the granddaughter of a general in +the Civil War, the great-granddaughter of an ambassador, +the great-great-granddaughter of a Revolutionary +hero, and though one could not but be thankful that +she failed of striking resemblance to the portraits of +these admirable ancestors, nevertheless it seemed to me +that, had I not known definitely of their place in her +family history, I might almost have sensed them hovering +behind her: a background, nebulous and shadowy, +out of which she had emerged.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_622" id="Page_622">[Pg 622]</a></span></p> + +<p>Memphis, upon the other hand, will always be to me a +lively modern débutante. I vision her as dancing—dancing +to Handy's ragtime music—all shoulders, neck, +and arms, and tulle, and twenty-dollar satin slippers. +Atlanta, too, is young, vivid, affluent, altogether modern; +while as for Birmingham, she is pretty, but a little +strident, a little overdressed; touched a little with the +amiability, and the other qualities, of the <i>nouveau riche</i>.</p> + +<p>The beauty of New Orleans is of a different kind. +She is a full-blown, black-eyed, dreamy, drawly creature, +opulent of figure, white of skin, and red of lip. +Like San Francisco she has Latin blood which makes +her love and preserve the carnival spirit; but she is more +voluptuous than San Francisco, for not only is she +touched with the languor and the fire of her climate, +but she is without the virile blood of the forty-niner, or +the invigorating contact of the fresh Pacific wind. In +my imaginary picture I see her yawning at eleven in the +morning, when her negro maid brings black coffee to +her bedside—such wonderful black coffee!—whereas, +at that hour, I conceive San Francisco as having long +been up and about her affairs. Even in the afternoon +I fancy my New Orleans beauty as a little bit relaxed. +But at dinner she becomes alive, and after dinner more +alive, and by midnight she is like a flame.</p> + +<p>I must admit, however, that of late years New +Orleans has developed a perfect case of dual personality, +and that, as often happens where there is dual personality, +one side of her nature seems altogether incom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_623" id="Page_623">[Pg 623]</a></span>patible +with the other. The very new New Orleans has +no resemblance to the picture I have drawn; moreover, +my picture is not her favorite likeness of herself. She +prefers more recent ones—pictures showing the lines +of determination which, within the last ten years have +stamped themselves upon her features, as she has fought +and overcome the defects of character which logically +accompanied her peculiar, temperamental type of +charm. I, upon the other hand, am like some lover who +values most an older picture of the woman he adores. +I admire her for building character, but it is by her +languorous beauty that I am infatuated, and the portrait +which most effectively displays that beauty is the +one for which I care.</p> + +<p>Her very failings were so much a part of her that +they made us the more sympathetic; she was too lovely +to be greatly blamed for anything; gazing into her eyes, +we hardly noticed that there was dust under the piano +and in the corners; dining at her sumptuous table, we +gave but little thought to the fact that the cellar was +damp, the house none too healthy, and that there were +mosquitoes and rats about the place; nor did it seem to +matter, in face of her allurements, that she was shiftless, +extravagant, improvident in the management of +her affairs. If these things were brought to our attention, +we excused them on the grounds of Latin blood +and enervating climate.</p> + +<p>But if we excused her, she did not excuse herself. +Without being shaken awake by an earthquake, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_624" id="Page_624">[Pg 624]</a></span> +forced to action by a devastating fire or flood, she set +to work, calmly and of her own volition, to reform her +character.</p> + +<p>First she cleaned house, providing good surface drainage, +an excellent filtered water supply from the river +in place of her old mosquito-breeding cisterns, and modern +sewers in place of cesspools. She killed rats by the +hundreds of thousands, rat-proofed her buildings, and +thus, at one stroke, eliminated all fear of bubonic plague. +She began to take interest in the public schools, and +soon trebled their advantages. She concerned herself +with the revision of repressive tax laws. She secured +one of the best street railway systems in the country. +But, perhaps most striking of all, she set to work to +build scientifically toward the realization of a gigantic +dream. This dream embodies the resumption by New +Orleans of her old place as second seaport city. To +this end she is doing more than any other city to revive +the commerce of the Mississippi River, and is at the +same time making a strong bid for trade by way of the +Panama Canal, as well as other sea traffic. She has +restored her forty miles of water front to the people, +has built municipal docks and warehouses at a cost of +millions, and has so perfectly coördinated her river-rail-sea +traffic-handling agencies that rates have been +greatly reduced. Upon these, and related enterprises, +upward of a hundred millions are being spent, and the +vast plan is working out with such promise that one +almost begins to fear lest New Orleans become too much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_625" id="Page_625">[Pg 625]</a></span> +enamored of her new-found materialism—lest the easy-going, +pleasure-loving, fascinating Creole belle be transformed +into the much-less-rare and much-less-desirable +business type of woman: a woman whose letters, instead +of being written in a fine French hand and scented with +the faint fragrance of vertivert, are typewritten upon +commercial paper; whose lips, instead of causing one +to think of kisses, are laden with the deadly cant of +commerce; whose skin, instead of seeming to be made +of milk and rose leaves, is dappled with industrial soot.</p> + +<p>Lord Chesterfield in one of his letters to his son, intimated +that beautiful women desire to be flattered upon +their intelligence, while intelligent women who are not +altogether ugly like to be told that they are beautiful. +So with New Orleans. Speak of her individuality, her +picturesqueness, her gift of laughter, and she will listen +with polite ennui; but admire her commercial progress +and she will hang upon your words. Gaiety and charm +are so much a part of her that she not only takes them +as a matter of course, but seems to doubt, sometimes, +that they are virtues. She is like some unusual and +fascinating woman who, instead of rejoicing because +she is not like all other women, begins to wonder if she +ought not to be like them. Perhaps she is wrong to be +gay? Perhaps her carnival proves her frivolous? Perhaps +she ought not to continue to hold a carnival each +year?</p> + +<p>Far to the north of New Orleans the city of St. Paul +was afflicted, some years since, by a similar agitation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_626" id="Page_626">[Pg 626]</a></span> +It will be remembered that St. Paul used to build an ice +palace each year. People used to go to see it as they +go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Then came some +believer in the standardization of cities, advancing the +idea that ice palaces advertised St. Paul as a cold place. +As a result they ceased to be built. St. Paul threw +away something which drew attention to her and which +gave her character. Moreover, I am told this mania +went so far that when folders were issued for the purpose +of advertising the region, they were designed to +suggest the warmth and brilliance of the tropics. Had +St. Paul a bad climate, instead of a peculiarly fine one, +we might feel sympathetic tolerance for these performances, +but a city which enjoys cool summers and dry, +bracing winters has no apologies to make upon the score +of climate, and only need apologize if she tries to make +us think that bananas and cocoanuts grow on sugar-maple +trees. However, in the last year or two, St. Paul +has perceived the folly of her course, and has resumed +her annual carnival.</p> + +<p>In the case of New Orleans I cannot believe there is +real danger that the carnival will be given up. Instead, +I believe that the business enthusiasts will be appeased—as +they were a year or two ago, for the first time in +carnival history—by the inclusion of an industrial +pageant glorifying the city's commercial renaissance. +Also the New Orleans newspapers soothe the spirit of +the Association of Commerce, at carnival time, by publishing +items presumably furnished by that capable or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_627" id="Page_627">[Pg 627]</a></span>ganization, +showing that business is going on as usual, +that bank clearings have not diminished during the festivities, +and that, despite the air of happiness that pervades +the town, New Orleans is not really beginning to +have such a good time as a stranger might suppose from +superficial signs. With such concessions made to solemn +visaged commerce, is the carnival continued.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There are at least six cities on this continent which +every one should see. Every one should see New York +because it is the largest city in the world, and because +it combines the magnificence, the wonder, the beauty, +the sordidness, and the shame of a great metropolis; +every one should see San Francisco because it is so +vivid, so alive, so golden; every one should see Washington, +the clean, white splendor of which is like the +embodiment of a national dream; every one should see +the old gray granite city of Quebec, piled on its hill above +the river like some fortified town in France; every one +should see the sweet and aristocratic city of Charleston, +which suggests a museum of tradition and early American +elegance; and of course every one should see New +Orleans.</p> + +<p>As to whether it is best to see the city in everyday +attire, or masked for the revels, that is a matter of +taste, and perhaps of age as well. To any one who +loves cities, New Orleans is always good to see, while +to the lover of spectacles and fêtes the carnival is also +worth seeing—once. The two are, however, hardly to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_628" id="Page_628">[Pg 628]</a></span> +be seen to advantage simultaneously. To visit New +Orleans in carnival time is like visiting some fine old +historic mansion when it is all in a flurry over a fancy-dress +ball. The furniture is moved, master, mistress +and servants are excited, the cook is overworked and +is perhaps complaining a little, and the brilliant costumes +of the masquerade divert the eye of the visitor +so that he hardly knows what sort of house he is in. +Attend the ball if you like, but do not fail to revisit +the house when normal conditions have been restored; +see the festivities of Mardi Gras if you will, but do not +fail to browse about old New Orleans and sit down at +her famous tables when her chefs have time to do their +best.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_629" id="Page_629">[Pg 629]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVII" id="CHAPTER_LVII"></a>CHAPTER LVII<br /> +<br /> +HISTORY, THE CREOLE, AND HIS DUELS</h2> + + +<p>Canal Street is to New Orleans much more +than Main Street is to Buffalo, much more than +Broad Street is to Philadelphia, much more +than Broadway and Fifth Avenue are to New York, for +Canal Street divides New Orleans as no other street +divides an American city. It divides New Orleans as +the Seine divides Paris, and there is not more difference +between the right bank of the Seine and the Latin +Quarter than between American New Orleans and +Creole New Orleans: between the newer part of the city +and the <i>vieux carré</i>. The sixty squares ("islets" according +to the Creole idiom, because each block was +literally an islet in time of flood) which comprise the old +French town established in 1718 by the Sieur de Bienville, +are unlike the rest of the city not merely in architecture, +but in all respects. The street names change +at Canal Street, the highways become narrower as you +enter the French quarter, and the pavements are made +of huge stone blocks brought over long ago as ballast in +sailing ships. Nor is the difference purely physical. +For though they will tell you that this part of the city +is not so French and Spanish as it used to be, that it has +run down, that large parts of it have been given over to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_630" id="Page_630">[Pg 630]</a></span> +Italians of the lower class, and to negroes, it remains +not only in appearance, but in custom, thought and +character, the most perfectly foreign little tract of land +in the whole United States. Long ago, under the +French flag, it was a part of the Roman Catholic bishopric +of Quebec; later under the Spanish flag, a part of +that of Havana; and it is charming to trace in old +buildings, names, and customs the signs of this blended +French and Spanish ancestry.</p> + +<p>La Salle, searching out a supposed route to China +by way of the Mississippi River, seems to have perceived +what the New Orleans Association of Commerce +perceives to-day: that the control of the mouth of the +river ought to mean also the control of a vast part of +the continent. At all events, he took possession in 1682 +in the name of the French King, calling the river St. +Louis and the country Louisiana. The latter name +persisted, but La Salle himself later rechristened the +river, giving it the name Colbert, thereby showing that +in two attempts he could not find a name one tenth as +good as that already provided by the savages. The "St. +Louis River" might, from its name, be a fair-sized +stream, but "Colbert" sounds like the name of a river +about twenty miles long, forty feet wide at the mouth, +and five feet deep at the very middle.</p> + +<p>La Salle intended to build a fort at a point sixty +leagues above the mouth of the river, but his expedition +met with disaster upon disaster, until at last he was assassinated +in Texas, when setting out on foot to seek<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_631" id="Page_631">[Pg 631]</a></span> +help from Canada. In 1699 came Iberville, the Canadian, +exploring the river and fixing on the site for the +future city. Iberville established settlements at old +Biloxi (now Ocean Springs) and Mobile, but before he +had time to make a town at New Orleans he caught +yellow fever at Havana, and died there. It therefore +remained for his brother, Bienville, actually to establish +the town, and New Orleans is Bienville's city, just +as Detroit is Cadillac's, and Cleveland General Moses +Cleveland's.</p> + +<p>Bienville's settlers were hardy pioneers from Canada, +and presently we find him writing to France: +"Send me wives for my Canadians. They are running +in the woods after Indian girls." The priests also +urged that unless white wives could be sent out for the +settlers, marriages with Indians be sanctioned.</p> + +<p>Having now a considerable investment in Louisiana, +France felt that a request for wives for the colony was +practical and legitimate. Louisiana must have population. +A bonus of so much per head was offered for +colonists, and hideous things ensued: servants, children, +and helpless women were kidnapped, and the occupants +of hospitals, asylums, and houses of correction were +assembled and deported. Incidentally it will be remembered +that out of these black deeds flowered "the first +masterpiece of French literature which can properly be +called a novel," the Abbé Prévost's "Manon Lescaut," +which has been dramatized and redramatized, and +which is the theme of operas by both Massenet and Puc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_632" id="Page_632">[Pg 632]</a></span>cini. +Though a grave alleged to be that of Manon +used to be shown on the outskirts of the city, there is +doubt that such a person actually existed, although those +who wish to believe in a flesh-and-blood Manon may perhaps +take encouragement from the fact that the arrival +in the colony of a Chevalier des Grieux, in the year +1719, fourteen years before the book appeared, has been +established, and, further, that the name of the Chevalier +des Grieux may be seen upon a crumbling tomb in +one of the river parishes.</p> + +<p>When the girls arrived they were on inspection in the +daytime, but at night were carefully guarded by soldiers, +in the house where they were quartered together. +Miss Grace King, in her delightful book, "New Orleans, +the Place and the People," tells us that in these times +there were never enough girls to fill the demand for +wives, and that in one instance two young bachelors proposed +to fight over a very plain girl—the last one left +out of a shipload—but that the commandant obliged +them to settle their dispute by the more pacific means of +drawing lots. As the place became settled Ursuline +sisters arrived and established schools. And at last, a +quarter of a century after the landing of the first shipment +of girls, the curious history of female importations +ended with the arrival of that famous band of sixty +demoiselles of respectable family and "authenticated +spotless reputation," who came to be taken as wives by +only the more prosperous young colonists of the better +class. The earlier, less reputable girls have come down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_633" id="Page_633">[Pg 633]</a></span> +to us by the name of "correction girls," but these later +arrivals—each furnished by the Company of the West +with a casket containing a trousseau—are known to this +day as <i>les filles à la cassette</i>, or "casket girls."</p> + +<p>A curious feature of this bit of history, as it applies +to present-day New Orleans, is that though one hears +of many families that claim descent from some nice, +well-behaved "casket girl," one never by any chance +hears of a family claiming to be descended from a lady +of the other stock. When it is considered that the "correction +girls" far outnumbered their virtuous sisters of +the casket, and ought, therefore, by the law of averages, +to have left a greater progeny, the matter becomes +stranger still, taking on a scientific interest. The explanation +must, however, be left to some mind more astute +than mine—some mind capable, perhaps, of unraveling +also those other riddles of New Orleans namely: +Who was the mysterious chevalier who many years ago +invented that most delectable of <i>sucreries</i>, the praline, +and whither did he vanish? And how, although the refugee +Duc d'Orleans (later Louis Philippe of France) +stayed but a short time in New Orleans, did he manage +to sleep in so many hundred beds, and in houses which +were not built until long after his departure? And why +are so many of the signs, over bars, restaurants, and +shops, of that blue and white enamel one associates with +the signs of the Western Union Telegraph Company? +And why is the nickel as characteristic of New Orleans +as is the silver dollar of the farther Middle West, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_634" id="Page_634">[Pg 634]</a></span> +gold coin of the Pacific Slope—why, when one pays for +a ten-cent purchase with a half-dollar, does one receive +eight nickels in change? Ah, but New Orleans is a +mysterious city!</p> + +<p>Once, when the French and English were fighting for +the possession of Canada and New Orleans was depending +for protection on Swiss mercenaries, the French officer +in command of these troops disciplined them by +stripping them and tying them to trees, where they were +a prey to the terrible mosquitoes of the Gulf. One day +they killed him and fled, but some of them were captured. +These were taken back to New Orleans, court-martialed, +and punished according to the regulations: +they were nailed alive to their coffins and sawed in two.</p> + +<p>Ceded to Spain by a secret clause in the Treaty of +Paris, of which she did not know until 1764, Louisiana +could not believe the news. Even when the Acadians, +appeared, after having been so cruelly ejected from their +lands in what is now New Brunswick, Louisiana could +not believe that Louis XV would coldly cast off his loyal +colony. The fact that he had done so was not credited +until a Spanish governor arrived. For three years +after, there was confusion. Then a strong force was +sent from Spain under Count O'Reilly, a man of Irish +birth, but Spanish allegiance, and the flag of Spain was +raised. O'Reilly maintained viceregal splendor; he invited +leading citizens to a levee; here in his own house +he caused his soldiers to seize the group of prominent +men who had attempted to prevent the accomplishment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_635" id="Page_635">[Pg 635]</a></span> +of Spanish rule, and five of these he presently caused to +be shot as rebels.</p> + +<p>Spanish governors came and went. The people +settled down. At one time Padre Antonio de Sedella, +a Spanish Capuchin, arrived with a commission to establish +in the city the Holy office of the Inquisition, but +he was discouraged and shipped back to Cadiz. Miss +King tells us that when, half a century later, the calaboose +was demolished, secret dungeons containing instruments +of torture were discovered.</p> + +<p>On Good Friday, 1788, fire broke out, and as the +priests refused to let the bells be rung in warning, saying +that all bells must be dumb on Good Friday, the conflagration +gained such headway that it could not be checked, +and a large part of the old French town was reduced to +ashes. Six years later another fire equally destructive, +completed the work of blotting out the French town, and +the old New Orleans we now know is the Spanish city +which arose in its place: a city not of wood but of adobe +or brick, stuccoed and tinted, of arcaded walks, galleries, +jalousies, ponderous doors, and inner courts with carriage +entrances from the street, and, behind, the most +charming and secluded gardens. Also, owing to premiums +offered by Baron Carondelet, the governor, tile +roofs came into vogue, so that the city became comparatively +fireproof. Much of the present-day charm of +the old city is due also to the noble Andalusian, Don +Andreas Almonaster y Roxas, who having immigrated +and made a great fortune in the city, became its bene<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_636" id="Page_636">[Pg 636]</a></span>factor, +building schools and other public institutions, the +picturesque old Cabildo, or town hall, which is now a +most fascinating museum, the cathedral, which adjoins +the Cabildo, and which, like it, faces Jackson Square, +formerly the Place d'Armes. In front of the altar of +his cathedral Don Andreas is buried, and masses are +said, in perpetuity, for his soul. When the Don's young +widow remarried, she and her husband were pursued +by a charivari lasting three days and three nights—the +most famous charivari in the history of a city widely +noted for these detestable functions. The Don's +daughter, a great heiress, became the Baronne Poñtalba +and resided in magnificence in Paris, where she +died, a very old woman, in 1874.</p> + +<p>In the Place d'Armes much of the early history of +New Orleans, and indeed, of Louisiana, was written. +Here, and in the Cabildo, the transfers from flag to flag +took place, ending with the ceding of Louisiana by Spain +to France, and by France to the United States. At this +time New Orleans had about ten thousand inhabitants, +most of the whites being Creoles.</p> + +<p>Harris Dickson, who knows a great deal about New +Orleans, declared in an article published some years ago, +that outside lower Louisiana the word "Creole" is still +misunderstood, and added this definition of the term: +"A person of mixed French and Spanish blood, born in +Louisiana." As I understand it, however, the blood +need not necessarily be mixed, but may be pure Spanish +or pure French, or again, there may be some admixture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_637" id="Page_637">[Pg 637]</a></span> +of English blood. The word itself was, I am informed, +originally Spanish, and signified an American descended +from Spaniards; later it got into the language of the +French West Indies, whence it was imported, to Louisiana, +about the end of the eighteenth century, by refugees +who arrived in considerable numbers from San Domingo, +after the revolution of the blacks there. Thus, +the early French settlers did not use the word.</p> + +<p>If any misapprehension as to whether a Creole is a +white person does still exist, that misunderstanding is, +I believe, to be traced to the doors of an old-time cheap +burlesque theater in Chicago, where the late impresario, +Sam T. Jack, put on a show in which mulatto women +were billed as "a galaxy of Creole beauties." This +show traveled about the country libeling the Creoles and +doubtless causing many persons of that class which attended +Sam T. Jack's shows, to believe that "Creole" +means something like "quadroon." But when the show +got to Baton Rouge the manager was waited upon by a +committee of citizens who said certain things to him +which caused him to give up his engagement there and +cancel any other engagements he had in the Creole +country.</p> + +<p>True, one frequently hears references in New Orleans +to "Creole mammies," and "Creole negroes," but the +word used in that sense merely indicates a negro who +has been the servant of Creoles, and who speaks French—"gombo +French" the curious dialect is called. Similarly +one hears of "Creole ponies"—these being ponies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_638" id="Page_638">[Pg 638]</a></span> +of the small, strong type used by the Cajan farmers. +According to the Louisiana dialect Longfellow's "Evangeline" +was a Cajan, the word being a corruption of +"Acadian." About a thousand of these unfortunate +expatriates arrived in New Orleans between 1765 and +1768. Within a century they had multiplied to forty +times that number, spreading over the entire western +part of the State.</p> + +<p>Much of the temperament, the gaiety, the sensitiveness +of New Orleans comes from the Creole. He was +Latin enough to be a good deal of a gambler, to love +beautiful women, and on slight provocation to draw his +sword.</p> + +<p>The street names of New Orleans—not only those of +the French Quarter, but of the whole city—reflect his +various tastes. Many of the streets bear the names of +historic figures of the French and Spanish régimes; +Rampart Street, formerly the rue des Ramparts marks, +like the outer boulevards of Paris, the line of the old city +wall. Other streets were given pretty feminine names +by the old Creole gallants: Suzette, Celeste, Estelle, +Angelie, and the like. The devout doubtless had their +share in the naming of Religious Street, Nuns Street, +Piety Street, Assumption Street, and Amen Street. +The taste for Greek and Roman classicism which developed +in France at the time of the Revolution, found +its way to Louisiana, and is reflected in New Orleans by +streets bearing the names of gods, demi gods, the muses +and the graces. The pronunciation given to some of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_639" id="Page_639">[Pg 639]</a></span> +these names is curious: Melpomene, instead of being +given four syllables is called Melpomeen; Calliope is +similarly Callioap; Euterpe, Euterp, and so on. This, +however, is the result not of ignorance, but of a slight +corruption of the correct French pronunciations, the +Americans having taken their way of pronouncing the +names from the French. The Napoleonic wars are +commemorated in the names of Napoleon Avenue, and +Austerlitz and Jena Streets, and the visit of Lafayette in +the naming for him of both a street and an avenue. But +perhaps the most striking names of all the old ones were +Mystery Street, Madman's Street, Love Street (Rue de +l'Amour), Goodchildren Street (Rue des Bons Enfants), +and above all those two streets in the Faubourg Marigny +which old Bernard Marigny amused himself by naming +for two games of chance at which, it is said, he had +lost a fortune—namely Bagatelle and Craps—the latter +not the game played with dice, but an old-time game of +cards.</p> + +<p>The French spoken by cultivated Creoles bears to the +French of modern France about the same relation as the +current English of Virginia does to that of England. +Creole French is founded largely upon the French of +the seventeenth and early eighteenth century, just as +many of the so-called "Americanisms" of older parts of +the country, including Virginia and New England, are +Elizabethan. The early English and French colonists, +coming to this country with the language of their times, +dropped, over here, into a linguistic backwater. In the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_640" id="Page_640">[Pg 640]</a></span> +mother countries language continued to renew itself as +it flowed along, by elisions, by the adoption and legitimatizing +of slang words (as for instance the word +"cab," to which Dean Swift objected on the ground that +it was slang for "cabriolet"), and by all the other means +through which our vocabularies are forever changing. +But to the colonies these changes were not carried, and +such changes as occurred in the French and English of +America were, for the most part, separate and distinct +(as exampled by such Creole words as "banquette" for +"sidewalk," in place of the French word <i>trottoir</i>, and +the word "baire," whence comes the American term +"mosquito bar.") The influence of colloquial French +from Canada may also be traced in New Orleans, and +the language there was further affected by the strange +jargon spoken by the Creole negro—precisely as the +English dialect of negroes in other parts of the South +may be said to have affected the speech of all the +Southern States.</p> + +<p>Between the dialect of the Louisiana Cajan and that +of the French Canadian of Quebec and northern New +York there is a strong resemblance; but the Creole negro +language is a thing entirely apart, being made up, it is +said, partly from French and partly from African word +sounds, just as the "gulla" of the South Carolina coast +is made up from African and English. The one is no +more intelligible to a Frenchman than the other to a +Londoner. The ignorant Creole negro wishing to say +"I do not understand," would not say "moi je ne com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_641" id="Page_641">[Pg 641]</a></span>prends +pas," but "mo pas connais"; similarly for "I am +going away," he does not say, "je m'en vais," but "ma +pe couri"; while for "I have a horse," instead of "j'ai +un cheval," he will put the statement, "me ganyé choue." +It is a dialect lacking mood, tense, and grammar.</p> + +<p>To this day one may occasionally see in New Orleans +and in other lower river towns an old "mammy" wearing +the bandanna headdress called a <i>tignon</i>, which, toward +the end of the eighteenth century, was made compulsory +for colored women in Louisiana. The need for +some such distinguishing racial badge was, it is said, +twofold. Yellow sirens from the French West Indies, +flocking to New Orleans, were becoming exceedingly +conspicuous in dress and adornment; furthermore one +hears stories of wealthy white men, fathers of octoroon +or quadroon girls, who sent these illegitimate daughters +abroad to be educated. The latter, one learns from +many sources, were very often beautiful in the extreme, +as were also the Domingan girls, and history is full of +the tales of the curious, wild, fashionably caparisoned, +declassé circle of society, which came to exist in New +Orleans through the presence there of so many alluring +women of light color and equally light character. Some +of these women, it is said, could hardly be distinguished +from brunette whites, and it was largely for this reason +that the <i>tignon</i> was placed by law upon the heads of +all women having negro blood.</p> + +<p>No morsels from the history of old New Orleans are +more suggestive to the imagination than the hints we get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_642" id="Page_642">[Pg 642]</a></span> +from many sources of wildly dissipated life centering +around the notorious quadroon balls—or as they were +called in their day, <i>cordon bleu</i> balls. An old guide book +informs me that the women who were the great attraction +at these functions were "probably the handsomest +race of women in the world, and were, besides, splendid +dancers and finished dressers." Authorities seem to +agree that these balls were exceedingly popular among +the young Creole gentlemen, as well as with men visiting +the city, and that duels, resulting from quarrels over +the women, were of common occurrence. If a Creole +had the choice of weapons slender swords called <i>colichemardes</i> +were used, whereas pistols were almost invariably +selected by Americans. Duels with swords were +often fought indoors, but when firearms were to be employed +the combatants repaired to one of the customary +dueling grounds. Under the fine old live oaks of the +City Park—then out in the country—it is said that as +many as ten duels have been fought in a single day. +Duels having their beginnings at the quadroon balls +were, however, often fought in St. Anthony's Garden, +for the ballroom was in a building (now occupied by a +sisterhood of colored nuns) which stands on Orleans +Street, near where it abuts against the Garden. This +garden, bearing the name of the saint whose temptations +have been of such conspicuous interest to painters of the +nude, is not named for him so much in his own right, as +because he was the patron of that same Padre Antonio +de Sedella, already mentioned, who came to New Or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_643" id="Page_643">[Pg 643]</a></span>leans +to institute the Inquisition, but who, after having +been sent away by Governor Miro, returned as a secular +priest and became much beloved for his good works. +Padre Antonio lived in a hut near the garden, and it is +he who figures in Thomas Bailey Aldrich's story "Père +Antoine's Date Palm."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p632jpg" id="p632jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p632.jpg" width="600" height="317" alt="St. Anthony's Garden, where duels originating at the quadroon balls were fought" title="" /> +<span class="caption">St. Anthony's Garden, where duels originating at the quadroon balls were fought</span> +</div> + +<p>To the Creole, more than to any other source, may be +traced the origin of dueling in the United States, and no +city in the country has such a dueling history as New +Orleans. The American took the practice from the +Latin and by the adoption of pistols made the duel a +much more serious thing than it had previously been, +when swords were employed and first blood usually constituted +"satisfaction." Up to the time of the Civil +War the man who refused a challenge became a sort of +outcast, and I have been told that even to this day a +duel is occasionally fought. Governor Claiborne, first +American governor of Louisiana, was a duelist, and his +monument—a family monument in the annex of the old +Basin Street division of St. Louis cemetery—bears upon +one side an inscription in memory of his brother-in-law, +Micajah Lewis, "who fell in a duel, January 14, 1804."</p> + +<p>Gayarré, in his history of Louisiana, tells a story of +six young French noblemen who, one night, paired off +and fought for no reason whatever save out of bravado. +Two of them were killed.</p> + +<p>Two famous characters of New Orleans, about the +middle of the last century, were Major Joe Howell, a +brother-in-law of Jefferson Davis, and Major Henry, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_644" id="Page_644">[Pg 644]</a></span> +dare-devil soldier of fortune who had filibustered in +Nicaragua and fought in the Mexican War. One day +while drinking together they quarreled, and as a result +a duel was arranged to take place the same afternoon. +Henry kept on drinking, but Howell went to sleep and +slept until it was time to go to the dueling ground, when +he took one cocktail, and departed.</p> + +<p>Feeling that a duel over a disagreement the occasion +for which neither contestant could remember, was the +height of folly, friends intervened, and finally succeeded +in getting Major Henry to say that the fight could be +called off if Howell would apologize.</p> + +<p>"For what?" he was asked.</p> + +<p>"Don't know and don't care," returned the old warrior.</p> + +<p>As Howell would not apologize, navy revolvers were +produced and the two faced each other, the understanding +being that they should begin at ten paces with six +barrels loaded, firing at will and advancing. At the +word "Fire!" both shot and missed, but Howell cocked +his revolver with his right thumb and fired again immediately, +wounding Henry in the arm. Henry then +fired and missed a second time, while Howell's third shot +struck his antagonist in the abdomen. Wounded as he +was, Henry managed to fire again, narrowly missing the +other, who was not only a giant in size, but was a conspicuous +mark, owing to the white clothing which he +wore. At this Howell advanced a step and took steady +aim, and he would almost certainly have killed his op<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_645" id="Page_645">[Pg 645]</a></span>ponent +had not his own second reached out and thrown +his pistol up, sending the shot wild. This occurred +after the other side has cried "Stop!"—as it had been +agreed should be done in case either man was badly +wounded. A foul was consequently claimed, the seconds +drew their pistols, and a general battle was narrowly +averted. After many weeks Henry recovered.</p> + +<p>A great number of historic duels were over politics. +Such a one was the fight which took place in 1843, between +Mr. Hueston, editor of the Baton Rouge "Gazette" +and Mr. Alcee La Branche, a Creole gentleman +who had been speaker of the Louisiana House of Representatives, +and was running for Congress. Mr. La +Branche was one of the few public men in the State +who had never fought a duel, and in the course of a violent +political campaign, Hueston twitted him on this subject +in the columns of the "Gazette," trying to make him +out a coward. Soon after the insulting article appeared, +the two men met in the billiard room of the old +St. Charles Hotel, and when La Branche demanded an +apology, and was refused, he struck Hueston with a +cane, or a cue, and knocked him down. A duel was, of +course, arranged, the weapons selected being double-barreled +shotguns loaded with ball. At the first discharge +Hueston's hat and coat were punctured by bullets. +He demanded a second exchange of shots, which +resulted about as before—his own shots going wild, +while those of his opponent narrowly missed him. +Hueston, however, obstinately insisted that the duel be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_646" id="Page_646">[Pg 646]</a></span> +continued, and the guns were loaded for the third time. +In the next discharge the editor received a scalp wound. +It was now agreed by all present that matters had gone +far enough, but Hueston remained obdurate in his intention +to kill or be killed, and in the face of violent protests, +demanded that the guns again be loaded. The +next exchange of shots proved to be the last. Hueston +let both barrels go without effect, and fell to the ground +shot through the lungs. Taken to the Maison de Santé, +he was in such agony that he begged a friend to finish +the work by shooting him through the head. Within +a few hours he was dead.</p> + +<p>The old guide book from which I gather these items +cites, also, cases in which duels were fought over trivial +matters, such, for instance, as a mildly hostile newspaper +criticism of an operatic performance, and an argument +between a Creole and a Frenchman over the +greatness of the Mississippi River.</p> + +<p>Professor Brander Matthews tells me of an episode in +which the wit exhibited by a Creole lawyer, in the course +of a case in a New Orleans court, caused him to be challenged. +The opposing counsel, likewise a Creole, was +a great dandy. He appeared in an immaculate white +suit and boiled shirt, but the weather was warm, and +after he had spoken for perhaps half an hour his shirt +was wilted, and he asked an adjournment. The adjournment +over, he reappeared in a fresh shirt, but this +too wilted presently, whereupon another adjournment +was taken. At the end of this he again reappeared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_647" id="Page_647">[Pg 647]</a></span> +wearing a third fresh shirt, and in it managed to complete +his plea.</p> + +<p>It now became the other lawyer's turn. He arose +and, speaking with the utmost gravity, addressed the +jury.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he said (Professor Matthews tells it in +French), "I shall divide my speech into three shirts." +He then announced: "First shirt"—and made his first +point. This accomplished, he paused briefly, then proclaimed: +"Second shirt," and followed with his second +point. Then: "Third and last shirt," and after completing +his argument sat down. The delighted jury +gave him the verdict, but his witticism involved him in +a duel with the worsted advocate. The result of this +duel Professor Matthews does not tell, but if the wag's +<i>colichemarde</i> was as swift and penetrating as his wit, +we may surmise that his opponent of the Code Napoléon +and the code duello had a fourth shirt spoiled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_648" id="Page_648">[Pg 648]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVIII" id="CHAPTER_LVIII"></a>CHAPTER LVIII<br /> +<br /> +FROM ANTIQUES TO PIRATES</h2> + + +<p>The numerous antique shops of the French quarter, +with their gray, undulating floors and their +piled-up, dusty litter of old furniture, plate, +glass, and china, and the equally numerous old book +stores, with their piles of French publications, their +shadowy corners, their pleasant ancient bindings and +their stale smell, are peculiarly reminiscent of similar +establishments in Paris.</p> + +<p>That Eugene Field knew these shops well we have reason +to know by at least two of his poems. In one, "The +Discreet Collector," he tells us that:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down south there is a curio shop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unknown to many men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereat do I intend to stop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I am South again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The narrow street through which to go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aha! I know it well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And maybe you would like to know—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But no—I will not tell!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But later, when filled with remorse over his extravagance +in "blowing twenty dollars in by nine o'clock <span class="smcap">a. m.</span>," +he reveals the location of his favorite establishment, +saying:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_649" id="Page_649">[Pg 649]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Royal Street (near Conti) there's a lovely curio shop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, one balmy fateful morn, it was my chance to stop—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So that, at least, is the neighborhood in which he +learned that:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The curio collector is so blindly lost in sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he doesn't spend his money—he simply blows it in!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In his verses called "Doctor Sam," Field touched on +another fascinating side of Creole negro life: the mysterious +beliefs and rites of voodooism—or, as it is more +often spelled, voudouism.</p> + +<p>Until a few years ago it used to be possible for a visitor +with a "pull" in New Orleans to see some of the +voudou performances and to have "a work made" for +him, but the police have dealt so severely with those who +believe in this barbarous nonsense, that it is practised in +these times only with the utmost secrecy.</p> + +<p>Voudouism was brought by the early slaves from the +Congo, but in Louisiana the negroes—probably desiring +to imitate the religion of their white masters—appropriated +some of the Roman Catholic saints and made +them subject to the Great Serpent, or <i>Grand Zombi</i>, who +is the voudou god. These saints, however, are given +voudou names, St. Michael, for example, being <i>Blanc +Dani</i>, and St. Peter, <i>Papa Liba</i>. This situation is the +antithesis of that to be found in Brittany, where Druidical +beliefs, handed down for generations among the +peasants, may now be faintly traced running like on odd +alien threads through the strong fabric of Roman Catholicism.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_650" id="Page_650">[Pg 650]</a></span></p> + +<p>Voudouism is not, however, to be dignified by the +name "religion." It is superstition founded upon +charms and hoodoos. It is witchcraft of the maddest +kind, involving the most hideous performances. Moreover, +it is said that a hoodoo is something of which a +French negro is very much afraid, and that his fear is +justifiable, for the reason that the throwing of a <i>wanga</i>, +or curse, may also involve the administering of subtle +poisons made from herbs.</p> + +<p>Legend is rich with stories of Marie Le Veau, the +voudou queen, who lived long ago in New Orleans, and +of love and death accomplished by means of voudou +charms. Charms are brought about in various ways. +Among these the burning of black candles, accompanied +by certain performances, brings evil upon those against +whom a "work" is made, while blue candles have to do +with love charms. It may also be noted that "love +powders" can be purchased now-a-days in drug stores +in New Orleans.</p> + +<p>In the days of long ago the great negro gathering +place used to be Congo Square—now Beauregard +Square—and here, on Sunday nights, wild dances used +to occur—the "bamboula" and "calinda"—and sinister +spells were cast. Later the voudous went to more secluded +spots on the shores of Lake Pontchartrain, and +on St. John's Eve, which is their great occasion, many +of the whites of the city used to go to the lake in hopes +of discovering a voudou séance, and being allowed to +see it. A friend of mine, who has seen several of these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_651" id="Page_651">[Pg 651]</a></span> +séances, says that they are unbelievably weird and horrible. +They will make a gombo, put a snake in it, and +then devour it, and they will wring a cat's neck and drink +its blood. And of course, along with these loathsome +ceremonies, go incantations, chants, dances, and frenzies, +sometimes ending in catalepsis.</p> + +<p>There are weird stories of white women of good family +who have believed in voudou, and have taken part in +the rites; and there are other tales of evil spells, such as +that of the Creole bride of long ago, whose affianced had +been the lover of a quadroon girl, a hairdresser. The +hairdresser when she came to do the bride's hair for the +wedding, gave her a bouquet of flowers. The bride +smelled the bouquet—and died at the church door.</p> + +<p>It was, I think, in an old book store on Royal Street—or +else on Chartres—that I found the tattered guide +book to which I referred in an earlier chapter. It was +"edited and compiled by several leading writers of the +New Orleans Press," and published in 1885, and it contains +an introductory recommendation by George W. +Cable—which is about the finest guarantee that a book +on New Orleans can have.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cable, of course, more than all the rest of the people +who have written of New Orleans put together, +placed the city definitely in literature. And it is interesting, +if somewhat saddening, to recall that for lifting +the city into the world of belles lettres, for adorning it +and preserving it in such volumes as "Old Creole Days," +"The Grandissimes," "Madame Delphine," and other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_652" id="Page_652">[Pg 652]</a></span> +valuable, truthful, and charming works, he was roundly +abused by his own fellow-townsmen. Far from attacking +Mr. Cable, New Orleans ought to build him a monument, +and I am glad to say that, though the monument is +not there yet, the city does seem to have come to its +senses, and that the prophet is no longer without honor +in his own country.</p> + +<p>Some further leaves are added to the literary laurels +of the city by what Thomas Bailey Aldrich has written +of it, and the wreath is made the greater by the fact that +in New Orleans was born "the only literary man in New +York," Professor Brander Matthews.</p> + +<p>Another distinguished name in letters, connected with +the place, is that of Lafcadio Hearn, who was at one +time a reporter on a New Orleans newspaper, and who +not only wrote about the French quarter, but collected +many proverbs of the Creoles in a book which he called +"Gombo Zebes." In his little volume, "Chita," Hearn +described the land of lakes, bayous, and <i>chênières</i>, which +forms a strip between the city and the Gulf, and which, +with its wild birds, wild scenery, and wild storms, and its +extraordinary population of hunters and fishermen—Cajuns, +Italians, Japanese, Spanish, Kanakas, Filipinos, +French, and half-breed Indians, all intermarrying—is +the strangest, most outlandish section of this country +I have ever visited. The Filipinos, who introduced +shrimp fishing in this region, building villages on stilts, +like those of their own islands, were not there when +Hearn wrote "Chita," nor was Ludwig raising <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_653" id="Page_653">[Pg 653]</a></span>diamond-back +terrapin on Grand Isle, but the live-oaks, draped +with sad Spanish moss, lined the bayous as they do to-day, +and the alligators, turtles and snakes were there, +and the tall marsh grass, so like bamboo, fringed the +banks as it does now, and water hyacinth carpeted the +pools, and the savage tropical storms came sweeping in, +now and then, from the Gulf, flooding the entire country, +tearing everything up by the roots, then receding, +carrying the floating debris back with them to the salt +sea. One has to see what they call a "slight" storm, in +that country, to know what a great storm there must be. +Hearn surely saw storms there, for in "Chita" he +describes with terrifying vividness that historic tempest +which, in 1856, obliterated, at one stroke, Last Island, +with its fashionable hotel and all the guests of that hotel. +I have seen a "little" thunderstorm in Barataria Bay +and I do not want to see a big one. I have seen brown +men who, in the storm of 1915 (which did a million dollars' +worth of damage in New Orleans), floated about +the Baratarias for days, upon the roofs of houses, and I +have seen little children, half Italian, half Filipino, who +were saved by being carried by their parents into the +branches of an old live-oak, where they waited until good +Horace Harvey, "the little father of the Baratarias," +came down there in his motor yacht, the <i>Destrehan</i>, +rescued them, warmed them, fed them, and gave them +back to life. I was told in New Orleans that there were +ten seconds in that storm when the wind reached a velocity +of 140 miles per hour at the mouth of the Missis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_654" id="Page_654">[Pg 654]</a></span>sippi, +that it blew for four hours at the rate of 90 miles, +and that the lowest barometrical reading ever recorded +in the United States (28.11) was recorded in New Orleans +during this hurricane.</p> + +<p>Of the summer climate of New Orleans I know nothing +at first hand, and judging from what people have +told me, that is all I want to know. The winter climate +suited me very well while I was there, although the boast +that grass is green and roses bloom all the year round, +does not imply such intense heat as some people may +suppose. Furthermore, I believe that the thermometer +has once or twice in the history of the city dropped low +enough to kill any ordinary rose, for a friend of mine +told me a story about some water pipes that froze and +burst during an unprecedented cold snap which occurred +some years ago. He said that an English colonel, whom +he knew, was visiting the city at the time and that, finding +himself unable to get water in his bathtub, he sent out +for several cases of Apollinaris, and with true British +phlegm proceeded to empty them into the tub and get +in among the bubbles.</p> + +<p>Still another figure having to do with literature, and +also with the history of New Orleans, is Jean Lafitte, +known as a pirate, whose life is said to have inspired +Byron's poem, "The Corsair." There was a time, long +ago, when Lafitte, together with his brother, his +doughty lieutenant, Dominique You, and his rabble of +Baratarians, caused New Orleans a great deal of annoyance, +but like many other doubtful characters, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_655" id="Page_655">[Pg 655]</a></span> +have, since their death, become entirely picturesque, and +the very idea that Lafitte was not a first-class blood-and-thunder +pirate is as distasteful to the people of New Orleans +to-day, as his being any kind of a near-pirate at +all, used to be to their ancestors. Nevertheless Frank +R. Stockton, who made a great specialty of pirates, says +of Lafitte: "He never committed an act of piracy in +his life; he was [before he went to Barataria] a blacksmith, +and knew no more about sailing a ship or even +the smallest kind of a boat than he knew about the +proper construction of a sonnet.... It is said of him +that he was never at sea but twice in his life: once when +he came from France, and once when he left this country, +and on neither occasion did he sail under the Jolly +Roger." According to Stockton, Lafitte, when he gave +up his blacksmith shop (in which he is said to have made +some of the fine wrought iron balcony railings which +still adorn the old town), and went to Barataria, became +nothing more nor less than a "fence" for pirates +and privateers, taking their booty, smuggling it up to +New Orleans, and selling it there on commission.</p> + +<p>But if the fact that he was not a gory-handed freebooter +is against Lafitte, there is one great thing in +his favor. When the British were making ready to +attack New Orleans in 1814, they tried both to bribe and +to browbeat Lafitte into joining forces with them. As +the American government was planning, at this very +time, a punitive expedition against him, it would perhaps +have seemed good policy for the pseudo-pirate to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_656" id="Page_656">[Pg 656]</a></span> +have accepted the British offer, but what Lafitte did was +to go up and report the matter at New Orleans, giving +the city the first authentic information of the contemplated +attack, and offering to join with his men in the +defense, in exchange for amnesty.</p> + +<p>A good many people, however, did not believe his +story, and a good many others thought it beneath the +dignity of the government to treat with a man of his +dubious occupation. Therefore poor Lafitte was not +listened to, but, upon the contrary, only succeeded in +stirring up trouble for himself, for an expedition was +immediately sent against him; his settlement at Barataria—on +the gulf, about forty miles below the city—was +demolished and the inhabitants driven to the woods +and swamps.</p> + +<p>But in spite of this discouraging experience, Lafitte +would not join the British, and it came about that when +the Battle of New Orleans was about to be fought, +Andrew Jackson, who had a short time before referred +to Lafitte and his men as a band of "hellish banditti," +was glad to accept their aid. Dominique You—with +his fine pirate name—commanded a gun, and the others +fought according to the best piratical tradition. After +the battle was won, the Baratarians were pardoned by +President Madison. Incidentally it may be remarked +here that the American line of defense on the plains of +Chalmette, below the city, had been indicated some years +before by the French General Moreau, hero of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_657" id="Page_657">[Pg 657]</a></span>Hohenlinden, +as the proper strategic position for safeguarding +New Orleans on the south.</p> + +<p>Even after he had been pardoned, Lafitte felt, not +without some justice, that he had been ill-used by the +Americans, and because of this he determined to leave +the country. He set sail with a band of his followers +for other climes, but what became of them is not known. +Some think their ship went down in a storm which +crossed the Gulf soon after their departure; others believe +that they reached Yucatan, and that Lafitte died +there. Whatever his fate, he did not improve it by +departing from New Orleans, for had he not done so +he would, at the end, have been given a handsome burial +and a nice monument like that of Dominique You—which +may be seen to this day in the old cemetery on +Claiborne Avenue, between Iberville and St. Louis +Streets.</p> + +<p>Having disposed of literary men and pirates, we now +come in logical sequence to composers and actors. Be +it known, then, that E. H. Sothern first raised, in the +house at 79 Bienville Street, the voice which has +charmed us in the theater, and that Louis Gottschalk, +composer of the almost too well-known "Last Hope," was +also born in New Orleans.</p> + +<p>The records of the opera and the theater might, in +themselves, make a chapter. As early as 1791 a French +theatrical company played in New Orleans, using halls, +and in 1808 a theater was built in St. Philip Street. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_658" id="Page_658">[Pg 658]</a></span> +is said that the first play given in the city in English was +performed December 24, 1817, the play being "The +Honey Moon," and the manager Noah M. Ludlow; but +it was not until some years later that the English drama +became a feature of the city's life, with the establishment +of a stock company under the management of +James H. Caldwell. Edwin Forrest appeared, in 1824, +with Mr. Caldwell's company at the Camp Street Theater, +which he built on leaving the Orleans Theater. The +former was, when opened, out in the swamp, and people +had to walk to it from Canal Street on a narrow path +of planks. It was the first building in the city to be +lighted by gas.</p> + +<p>The annals of the old St. Charles theater, called "old +Drury," are rich with history. Practically all our +great players from 1835 until long after the Civil War, +appeared in this theater, and an old prompter's book +which, I believe, is still in existence, records, among +many other things, certain details of the appearance +there, in 1852, of Junius Brutus Booth, father of Edwin +Booth, and mentions also that Joseph Jefferson (Sr.) +then a young man, was reprimanded for being noisy in +his dressing-room.</p> + +<p>New Orleans was, I believe, the first American city +regularly to support grand opera and to give it a home. +For a great many years before 1859 (in which year +the present French Opera House on Bourbon Street was +built) there was a regular annual season of opera at +the Orleans Theater, long since destroyed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_659" id="Page_659">[Pg 659]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the days of the city's operatic grandeur great singers +used to visit New Orleans before visiting New York, +as witness, for example, the début at the French Opera +House of Adelina Patti. Since the time of the Civil +War, however, the city has suffered a decline in this +department of art. Opera seasons have not been regular, +and in spite of occasional attempts to revive the +old-time spirit, the ancient Opera House, with its brave +columned front, its cracking veneer of stucco, and its +surrounding of little vari-colored one story cafés and +shops (which are themselves like bits of operatic scenery), +does not so much suggest to the imagination a +home of modern opera, as a mournful mortuary chapel +haunted by the ghosts of old half-forgotten composers: +Herold, Spontini, Mehul, Varney; old conductors, long +since gone to dust: Prevost, John, Calabresi; old arias +of Meyerbeer, Auber, and Donizetti; and above all, by +the ghosts of pretty pirouetting ballerinas, and of great +singers whose voices have, these many years, been still.</p> + +<p>An old lady who knew Louisiana in the forties and +fifties, has left record of the fact that plantation negroes +used to know and sing the French operatic airs, just as +the Italian peasants of to-day know and sing the music +of Puccini and Leoncavallo. But if opera no longer +reaches the negro, it cannot be said that it has failed to +leave its stamp on the French quarter. From open windows +and doors, from little shops and half-hidden courtyards, +from shuttered second story galleries, there comes +floating to the ears of the wayfarer the sound of music.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_660" id="Page_660">[Pg 660]</a></span> +In one house a piano is being played with dash; in another +a child is practising her scales; from still another +comes a soprano voice, the sad whistling of a flute, the +tinkle of a guitar, or the anguished squeal of a tortured +violin. Never except in Naples have I heard, on one +block, so many musical instruments independently at +work, as in some single blocks of the <i>vieux carré</i>; and +never anywhere have I seen a sign which struck as more +expressive of the industries of a locality, than that one +which I saw near the house of Mme. Lalurie, which +read: "Odd Jobs Done, and Music."</p> + +<p>The reason for this musical congestion is twofold. +Not only is the Creole a great lover of good light music, +but the whole region for blocks about the Opera House +is populated by old musicians from the opera's orchestra, +and women, some middle aged, some old, who used +to be in the ballet or the chorus, and who not only keep +alive the musical tradition of the district, but pass it on +to the younger generation. Indeed there are almost as +many places in the French quarter where music may be +heard, as where stories are told.</p> + +<p>In one street may be seen a house where the troubles +with the Mafia began. On a corner—the southeast +corner of Royal and St. Peter—is shown the house in +which Cable's "'Sieur George" resided. This house is, +I believe, the same one which, when erected, caused people +to move away from its immediate neighborhood, for +fear that its height would cause it to fall down. It +is a four story house—the first built in the city. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_661" id="Page_661">[Pg 661]</a></span> +southeast corner of Royal and Hospital Streets stands +that "haunted" house of Mme. Lalaurie, who fled the +town when indignation was aroused because of devilish +tortures she inflicted on her slaves. This house is +now an Italian tenement, but even in its decay it will be +recognized as a mansion which, in its day, was fit to +house such guests as Louis Philippe, Lafayette, and Ney. +A guest even more distinguished than these, was to have +been housed in the mansion at the northeast corner of +St. Louis and Chartres Streets, for the Creoles had a +plan to rescue Napoleon from St. Helena and bring him +here, and had this house prepared to receive him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p641jpg" id="p641jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p641.jpg" width="600" height="452" alt="Courtyard of the old Orleans Hotel" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Courtyard of the old Orleans Hotel</span> +</div> + +<p>And are we to forget where Andrew Jackson was entertained +before and after the Battle of New Orleans—where +General Beauregard, military idol of the Creoles, +resided—where Paul Morphy the "chess king" lived—where +General Butler took up his quarters when, in +1862, under the guns of Farragut's fleet, the city surrendered—? +Shall we fail to visit the curious old tenements +and stables surrounding the barnyard which once +was the <i>remise</i> of the old Orleans Hotel? Shall we +neglect old Metaire cemetery, with its graves built above +ground in the days when drainage was less perfect? +Shall we fail to go to the levee (pronounced "levvy") +and see the savage flood of the muddy Mississippi coursing +toward the gulf behind the embankment which alone +saves the city from inundation? Shall we ignore the +French Market with its clean stalls piled with fresh +vegetables, sea food, and all manner of comestibles, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_662" id="Page_662">[Pg 662]</a></span>cluding +<i>filé</i> for the glorious Creole gombo. Shall we +not view the picturesque if sinister old Absinthe House, +dating from 1799, with its court and stairway so full +of mysterious suggestion, and its misty paregoric-flavored +beverage, containing opalescent dreams? Shall +we not go to Sazerac's for a cocktail, or to Ramos' for +one of those delectable gin-fizzes suggesting an Olympian +soda-fountain drink? Are we to ignore all these +wonders of the city?</p> + +<p>Yes, for it is time to go to luncheon at Antoine's!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"> +<a name="p620jpg" id="p620jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p620.jpg" width="403" height="500" alt="The mysterious old Absinthe House, founded 1799" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The mysterious old Absinthe House, founded 1799</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_663" id="Page_663">[Pg 663]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIX" id="CHAPTER_LIX"></a>CHAPTER LIX<br /> +<br /> +ANTOINE'S AND MARDI GRAS</h2> + + +<p>Antoine's is to me one of the four or five most +satisfactory restaurants in the United States,—two +of the others being the Louisiane and Galatoire's. +But one has one's slight preferences in these +things; and just as I have a feeling that the cuisine of the +Hotel St. Regis in New York surpasses, just a little bit, +that of any other eating place in the city, I have a feeling +about Antoine's in New Orleans. This is not, perhaps, +with me, altogether a culinary matter, for whereas I +remember delightful meals at the Louisiane and Galatoire's—meals +which, indeed, could hardly be surpassed—I +lived for a week at Antoine's, and felt at home there, +and became peculiarly attached to the quaint, rambling +old restaurant, up stairs and down.</p> + +<p>Antoine's has never been "fixed up." The café makes +one think of such old Parisian restaurants as the Boeuf +à la Mode, or the Tour d'Argent. Far from being a +showy place, it is utterly simple in its decorations and +equipment, but if there is in this country a restaurant +more French than Antoine's, I do not know where that +restaurant is.</p> + +<p>Antoine Alciatore, founder of the establishment, de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_664" id="Page_664">[Pg 664]</a></span>parted +nearly forty years ago to the realms to which +great chefs are ultimately taken. Coming from France +as a young man he established himself in a small café +opposite the slave market, where he proceeded to cook +and let his cooking speak for him. His dinde à la Talleyrand +soon made him famous, and he prospered, moving +before long to the present building. His sons, Jules and +Fernand, were sent to Paris to learn at headquarters the +best traditions of the haute cuisine, doing service as +apprentices in such establishments as the Maison d'Or +and Brabant's. Jules is now proprietor of Antoine's, +while Fernand is master of the Louisiane.</p> + +<p>The two brothers are of somewhat different type. +Fernand is, above all, a chef; I have never seen him outside +his own kitchen. His son, Fernand Jr., superintends +the front part of the Louisiane, which he has +transformed into a place having the appearance of a +New York restaurant. The young man has made a +successful bid for the fashionable patronage of New +Orleans, and there is dancing in the Louisiane in the +evening. Jules, upon the other hand, is perhaps more +the director than his brother Fernand—more the suave +delightful host, less the man of cap and apron. Jules +loves to give parties—to astonish his guests with a brilliant +dinner and with his unrivaled grace as gérant. +That he is able to do these things no one is better aware +than my companion and I, for it was our good fortune +to be accepted by Jules as friends and fellow artists.</p> + +<p>Never while my companion and I lived at Antoine's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_665" id="Page_665">[Pg 665]</a></span> +did we escape the feeling that we were not in the United +States, but in some foreign land. To go to his rooms +he went upstairs, around a corner, down a few steps, +past a pantry, and a back stairway by which savory +smells ascended from the kitchen, along a latticed gallery +overlooking a courtyard like that of some inn in +Segovia, along another gallery running at right angles +to the first and overlooking the same court, including +the kitchen door and the laundry, and finally to a chamber +with French doors, a canopied bed, and French windows +opening upon a balcony that overlooked the side +street. His room was called "The Creole Yacht," while +mine was the "Maison Vert."</p> + +<p>I remember a room in that curious little hotel opposite +the Café du Dôme, in Paris (the hotel in which it is said +Whistler stayed when he was a student), which almost +exactly resembled my room at Antoine's, even to the +dust which was under the bed—until 'Génie got to work +with broom and brush. Moreover, connected with my +room there was a bath which actually had a <i>chaufbain</i> +to heat the water: one of those weird French machines +resembling the engine of a steam launch, which pops +savagely when you light the gas beneath it, and which, +as you are always expecting it to blow up and destroy +you, converts the morning ablutions from a perfunctory +duty into a great adventure.</p> + +<p>Then too, there was Marie who has attended to the +<i>linge</i> at Antoine's for the last fifty years, and who helped +the gray-haired genial Eugénie to "make proper the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_666" id="Page_666">[Pg 666]</a></span> +rooms." Ever since 'Génie—as she is called, for short—came +from her native Midi, she has been at Antoine's; +and like François—the gentle, kindly, white-mustached +old waiter who, when we were there, had just moved up +to Antoine's after thirty-five years' service at the Louisiane—'Génie +is always ready with a smile; yes, even in +the rush of Mardi Gras!</p> + +<p>Antoine's does not set up to be a regular hotel, and we +stopped there because, during the carnival, all rooms in +the large modern hotels across Canal Street were taken. +The carnival rush made room-service at Antoine's a little +slow, now and then; sometimes the bell would not be +answered when we rang for breakfast; or again, our +morning coffee and <i>croissants</i> would be forty minutes +on the way; sometimes we became a little bit impatient—though +we could never bring ourselves to say so to +such amiable servitors. As a result, when we were leaving +the city for a little trip, we determined to stay, on +our return, at the Grunewald, a hotel like any one of a +hundred others in the United States—marble lobbies, +gold ceilings, rathskellers, cabaret shows, dancing, and +page boys wandering through the corridors and dining-rooms, +calling in nasal, sing-song voices: "<i>Mis</i>-ter +<i>Shoss</i>-futt! <i>Mis</i>-ter <i>Ahm</i>-kaplopps! <i>Mis</i>-ter <i>Praggle</i>-fiss! +<i>Mis</i>-ter Blahms!"</p> + +<p>We did return and go to the Grunewald. But comfortable +as we were made there, we had to own to each +other that we missed Antoine's. We missed our curious +old rooms. I even missed my <i>chaufbain</i>, and was bored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_667" id="Page_667">[Pg 667]</a></span> +at the commonplace matutinal performance of turning +on hot water without preliminary experiments in marine +engineering. We thought wistfully of 'Génie's patient +smile, and of her daily assurance to us, when we went +out, that "when she had made the apartments she +would render the key to the bureau, <i>alors</i>,"—which is to +say, leave the key at the office. We yearned for the +café, for good François, for the deliciously flavored oysters +cooked on the half-shell and served on a pan of hot +rock-salt which kept them warm; for the cold tomatoes +<i>à la Jules César</i>; for the bisque of crayfish <i>à la Cardinal</i>; +for the bouillibasse (which Thackeray admitted was as +good in New Orleans as in Marseilles, and which Otis +Skinner says is better); for the unrivaled gombo <i>à la +Créole</i>, and pompano <i>en Papillotte</i>, and pressed duck <i>à +la Tour d'Argent</i>, and orange Brulôt, and the wonderful +Café Brulôt Diabolique—that spiced coffee made in a +silver bowl from which emerge the blue flames of burning +cognac, and in honor of which the lights of the café +are always temporarily dimmed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p664jpg" id="p664jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p664.jpg" width="600" height="439" alt="The lights are always lowered at Antoine's when the spectacular Café Boulot Diabolique is served" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The lights are always lowered at Antoine's when the spectacular Café Boulot Diabolique is served</span> +</div> + +<p>Nor least of all was it that we wished to see again the +mother of Jules, who sits back of the <i>caisse</i> and takes in +the money, like many another good French wife and +mother—a tiny little old lady more than ninety-five +years old, who came to New Orleans in 1840 as the bride +of the then young Antoine Alciatore.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p656jpg" id="p656jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p656.jpg" width="600" height="452" alt="The little lady who sits behind the desk is more than ninety-five years old, and came to New Orleans as the +bride of Antoine" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The little lady who sits behind the desk is more than ninety-five years old, and came to New Orleans as the +bride of Antoine</span> +</div> + +<p>So we put on our hats and coats when evening came, +and went back to Antoine's for dinner, and as long as +we were in New Orleans we kept on going back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_668" id="Page_668">[Pg 668]</a></span></p> + +<p>That is not to say, of course, that we did not go also +to the Louisiane and Galatoire's, or that we did not drop +in for luncheon, sometimes, at Brasco's, in Gravier +Street, or at Kolb's, a more or less conventional German +restaurant in St. Charles Street; or that we failed to go +out to Tranchina's at Spanish Fort, on Lake Pontchartrain, +or to the quainter little place called Noy's where, we +learned, Ernest Peixotto had been but a short time before, +gathering material for indigestion and an article +in "Scribner's Magazine." But when all is said and +done there remain the three restaurants of the old quarter.</p> + +<p>I should like to give some history of Galatoire's as +well as of the other two, but when I asked the <i>patron</i> for +the story of his restaurant, he smiled, and with a shrug +replied: "But Monsieur, the story is in the food!"</p> + +<p>Do not expect any of these places to present the brilliant +appearance of distinguished New York restaurants. +They are comparatively simple, all of them, and +are engaged not with soft carpets and gilt ceilings, but +with the art of cookery.</p> + +<p>I have been told that some of them have what may be +termed "tourist cooking," which is not their best, but if +you know good food, and let them know you know it, and +if you visit them at any time except during the carnival, +then you have a right to expect in any one of these establishments, +a superb dinner. For as I once heard my +friend Col. Beverly Myles, one of the city's most distinguished +<i>gourmets</i>, remark: "To talk of 'tolerably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_669" id="Page_669">[Pg 669]</a></span> +good food' in a French restaurant is like talking of 'a +tolerably honest man.'"</p> + +<p>The carnival of Mardi Gras and the several days preceding, +is one of those things about which I feel as I do +concerning Niagara Falls, and gambling houses, and +the red light district of Butte, Montana, and the underground +levels of a mine, and the world as seen from an +aëroplane, and the Quatres Arts ball, and a bull fight—I +am glad to have seen it once, but I have no desire to +see it again. During the carnival my companion and +I enjoyed a period of sleepless gaiety. To be sure, we +went to bed every morning, but what is the use in doing +that if you also get up every morning? We went to the +street pageants, we went to the balls at the French +Opera House, we saw the masking on the streets, +and when the carnival was finished we were finished, +too.</p> + +<p>The great thing about the carnival, it seems to me, is +that it bears the relation to the life of the city, that a +well-developed hobby does to the life of an individual. +It keeps the city young. It keeps it from becoming +pompous, from taking itself too seriously, from getting +into a rut. It stimulates not alone the young, but the +grave and reverend seigniors also, to give themselves +up for a little while each year to play, and moreover to +use their imaginations in annually devising new pageants +and costumes. From this point of view such a carnival +would be a good thing for any city.</p> + +<p>But that is where the Latin spirit of New Orleans<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_670" id="Page_670">[Pg 670]</a></span> +comes in, with its pleasing combination of gaiety and +restraint. You could not hold such a carnival in every +city. You could not do it in New York. For more important +even than the pageants and the balls, is the carnival +frame of mind. To hold a carnival such as New +Orleans holds, a city must know how to be lively and +playful without becoming drunk, without breaking barroom +mirrors, upsetting tables, annoying women, thrusting +"ticklers" into people's faces, jostling, fighting, committing +the thousand rough vulgar excesses in which +New York indulges every New Year's Eve, and in which +it would indulge to an even more disgusting extent under +the additional license of the mask.</p> + +<p>The carnival—<i>carne vale</i>, farewell flesh—which terminates +with Mardi Gras—"Fat Tuesday," or Shrove +Tuesday, the day before the beginning of Lent—comes +down to us from pagan times by way of the Latin countries. +The "Cowbellions," a secret organization of Mobile, +in 1831 elaborated the idea of historical and legendary +processions, and as early as 1837 New Orleans held +grotesque street parades. Twenty years later the +"Mystic Krewe," now known as "Comus," appeared +from nowhere and disappeared again. The success of +Comus encouraged the formation of other secret societies, +each having its own parade and ball, and in 1872, +Rex, King of the Carnival, entered his royal capital of +New Orleans in honor of the visit of the Grand Duke +Alexis—who, by the way, is one of countless notables +who have feasted at Antoine's.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_671" id="Page_671">[Pg 671]</a></span></p> + +<p>The three leading carnival societies, Comus, Momus, +and Proteus, are understood to be connected with three +of the city's four leading clubs, all of which stand within +easy range of one another on the uptown side of Canal +Street: the Boston Club (taking its name from an old +card game); the Pickwick (named for Dickens' genial +gentleman, a statue of whom stands in the lobby); the +Louisiana, a young men's club; and the Chess, Checkers +and Whist Club. The latter association is, I believe, the +one that takes no part in the carnival.</p> + +<p>Each of the carnival organizations has its own King +and Queen, and the connection between certain clubs +and certain carnival societies may be guessed from +the fact that the Comus Queen and Proteus Queen +always appear on the stand in front of the Pickwick +Club, to witness their respective parades, and that +the Queen of the entire Carnival appears with her +maids of honor on the stand before the Boston Club +upon the day of Mardi Gras, to witness the triumphal +entry and parade of Rex. As Rex passes the club he +sends her a bouquet—the official indication of her queenship. +That night she appears for the first time in the +glory of her royal robes at the Rex Ball, which is held +in a large hall; and the great event of the carnival, from +a social standpoint, is the official visit, on the same night, +of Rex and his Queen, attended by their court, to +the King and Queen of Comus, at the Comus Ball, held +in the Opera House.</p> + +<p>Passing between the brilliantly illuminated flag-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_672" id="Page_672">[Pg 672]</a></span>draped +buildings, under festoons of colored electric +lights, the street parades, with their spectacular colored +floats, their bands, their negro torch-bearers, their +strangely costumed masked figures, throwing favors +into the dense crowds, are glorious sights for children +ranging anywhere from eight to eighty years of age. +Public masking on the streets, on the day of Mardi Gras, +is also an amusing feature of the carnival.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="p672jpg" id="p672jpg"></a> +<img src="images/p672.jpg" width="600" height="393" alt="Passing between the brilliantly illuminated buildings, under festoons of electric lights the Mardi Gras parades, with +their floats, their bands, their torch-bearers, their masked figures, are glorious sights for children from eight +to eighty years of age" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Passing between the brilliantly illuminated buildings, under festoons of electric lights the Mardi Gras parades, with +their floats, their bands, their torch-bearers, their masked figures, are glorious sights for children from eight +to eighty years of age</span> +</div> + +<p>The balls, upon the other hand, are social events of +great importance in the city, and as spectacles they are +peculiarly fine. Invitations to these balls are greatly +coveted, and the visitor to the city who would attend +them, must exert his "pull" some time in advance. +The invitations, by the way, are not sent by individuals, +but by the separate organizations, and even those +young ladies who are so fortunate as to have "call-outs"—cards +inclosed with their invitations, indicating that +they are to be asked to dance, and may therefore have +seats on the ground floor—are not supposed to know +from what man these cards come. Ladies who have not +received call-outs, and gentlemen who are not members +of the societies, are packed into the boxes and seats above +the parquet floor, and do not go upon the dancing floor +until very late in the evening. Throughout each ball +the members of the society giving the ball continue to +wear their costumes and their masks, so that ladies, +called from their seats to dance, often find themselves +treading a measure with some gallant who speaks +in a strange assumed voice, striving to maintain the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_673" id="Page_673">[Pg 673]</a></span> +mystery of his identity. The ladies, upon the other +hand, are not in costume and are not masked; about +them, there is no more mystery than women always +have about them. After each dance the masker produces +a present for his partner—usually a pretty bit +of jewelry. Etiquette not only allows, but insists, that +a woman accept any gift offered to her at a carnival +ball, and it is said that by this means many a young +gentleman has succeeded in bestowing upon the lady of +his heart a piece of jewelry the value of which would +make acceptance of the gift impossible under other than +carnival conditions.</p> + +<p>After the balls many of the younger couples go to the +Louisiane and Antoine's, to continue the dance, and as +my room at Antoine's was directly over one of the dancing +rooms of the establishment, I might make a shrewd +guess as to how long they stayed up, after my companion +and I retired.</p> + +<p>Let it not be supposed that we retired early. I remember +well the look of the pale blue dawn of Ash +Wednesday morning, and no less do I remember a conversation +with a gentleman I met at the Louisiane, just +before the dawn broke. I never saw him before and I +have never seen him since; nor do I know his name, or +where he came from. I only know that he was an +agreeable, friendly person who did not wish to go to +bed.</p> + +<p>When I said that I was going home he protested.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that!" he urged. "There's a nice French<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_674" id="Page_674">[Pg 674]</a></span> +restaurant in this town. I can't think of the name of +it. Let's go there."</p> + +<p>"Well, how can we go if you don't know what place +it is?" I asked, intending to be discouraging.</p> + +<p>The young man looked dazed at this. Then his face +brightened suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" he cried. "I remember the name now! +It's the Louisiane! Come on! Let's get our coats an' +go there!"</p> + +<p>"But," I said, "this is the Louisiane right here."</p> + +<p>The thought seemed to stagger him, for he swayed +ever so slightly.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said, regarding me with great solemnity. +"Let's go there!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I have wondered since if this same young man may +not have been the one who, returning to the St. Charles +Hotel in the early hours of that sad Ash Wednesday +morning, was asked by the clerk, who gave him his key, +whether he wished to leave a call.</p> + +<p>"What day's this?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Wednesday," said the clerk.</p> + +<p>"All ri'," replied the other, moving toward the elevator. +"Call me Saturday."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_675" id="Page_675">[Pg 675]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LX" id="CHAPTER_LX"></a>CHAPTER LX<br /> +<br /> +FINALE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0 smcap signature">—Gerald Gould.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>It is good to look about the world; but always there +comes a time when the restless creature, man, having +yielded to the call of the seas and the stars and +the sky, and gone a-journeying, begins to think of home +again. Even were home a less satisfactory, a less happy +place than it is, he would be bound to think of it after +so long a journey as that upon which my companion and +I had spent so many months. For, just as it is necessary +for a locomotive to go every so often for an overhauling, +so it is necessary for the traveler to return to +headquarters. The fastenings of his wardrobe trunk +are getting loose, and the side of it has been stove in; +his heels are running down in back, his watch needs +regulating, his umbrella-handle is coming loose, he is +running out of notebooks and pencils and has broken a +blade of his knife in trying to open a bottle with it +(because he left his corkscrew in a hotel somewhere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_676" id="Page_676">[Pg 676]</a></span> +along the way). His fountain pen has sprung a leak +and spoiled a waistcoat, his razors are dull, his strop +is nicked, and he has run out of the kind of cigarettes +and cigars he likes. One lens of his spectacles has +gotten scratched, his mail has ceased to reach him, his +light suits are spotted, baggy and worn, and his winter +suits are becoming too heavy for comfort as the spring +advances. His neckties are getting stringy, he has +hangnails and a cough; he never could fix his own hangnails, +and he cannot cure his cough because the bottle +of glycerine and wild cherry provided for just such an +emergency by the loved ones at home, got broken on the +trip from Jacksonville to Montgomery, and went dribbling +down through the trunk, ruining his reference +books, three of his best shirts, and the only decent pair +of russet shoes he had left. The other shoes have been +ruined in various ways; one pair was spoiled in a possum +hunt at Clinton, North Carolina—and it was worth it, +and worth the overcoat that was ruined at the same +time; two pairs of black shoes have been caked up with +layers and layers of sticky blacking, and one pair of +russets was ruined by a well intentioned negro lad in +Memphis, who thought they would look better painted +red. His traveler's checks are running low and he is +continually afraid that, amid his constantly increasing +piles of notes and papers, he will lose the three books in +each of which remains a few feet of "yellow scrip"—the +mileage of the South—which will take him on his return +journey as far as Washington.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_677" id="Page_677">[Pg 677]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nor is that all. The determining factor in his decision +to go home lies in the havoc wrought by a long +succession of hotel laundries—laundries which starch +the bosoms of soft silk shirts, which mark the owner's +name in ink upon the hems of sheer linen handkerchiefs +which already have embroidered monograms, which rip +holes in those handkerchiefs and then fold them so that +the holes are concealed until, some night, he whips one +confidently from the pocket of his dress suit, and reveals +it looking like a tattered battle-flag; laundries which +leave long trails of iron rust on shirt-bosoms, which rip +out seams, tear off buttons, squeeze out new standing +collars to a saw-tooth edge, iron little pieces of red and +brown string into collars, cuffs, and especially into the +bosoms of dress shirts, and "finish" dress shirts and +collars, not only in the sense of ending their days of usefulness +as fast as possible, but also by making them shine +like the interiors of glazed porcelain bathtubs. But the +greatest cruelty of the hotel laundry is to socks. It is +not that they do more damage to socks, than to other +garments, but that the laundry devil has been able to +think of a greater variety of means for the destruction +of socks than for the destruction of any other kind of +garment. He begins by fastening to each sock a cloth-covered +tin tag, attached by means of prongs. On this +tag he puts certain marks which will mean nothing to +the next laundry. The next laundry therefore attaches +other tin tags, either ripping off the old ones (leaving +holes where the prongs went through) or else letting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_678" id="Page_678">[Pg 678]</a></span> +them remain in place, so that, after a while, the whole +top of the sock is covered with tin, making it an extraordinarily +uncomfortable thing to wear, and a strange +thing to look at. There is still another way in which +the laundry devil tortures the sock-owner. He can find +ways to shrink any sock that is not made of solid heavy +silk; and of course he can rip silk socks all to pieces. +He will take silk-and-wool socks of normal length, and +in one washing will so reduce them that you can hardly +get your foot into them, and that the upper margins +of them come only about an inch above your shoe-tops. +People who have no business to do so, are thus enabled, +when you are seated, to see the tops of your socks and to +amuse themselves by counting the tin tags with which +they are adorned. Also, the socks, being so short, become +better pullers than the garters, so that instead of +the garters holding the socks up, the socks pull the +garters down. This usually occurs as you are walking +up the aisle in church, or in the middle of a dance, and +of course your garter manages to come unclasped, into +the bargain, and goes trailing after you, like a convict's +ball and chain.</p> + +<p>For a time you can stand this sort of thing, but presently +you begin to pine for the delicate washtub artistry +of Amanda, at home; for vestments which, when sent to +the wash, do not come back riddled with holes, or smelling +as though they had been washed in carbolic acid, or +in the tub with a large fish.</p> + +<p>So, presently, you fold up your rags like the Arabs,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_679" id="Page_679">[Pg 679]</a></span> +fasten your battered baggage shut as best you can, put +it on a taxi, and head for the railway station. No train +ever looks so handsome as the home-bound train you find +there. No engineer ever looks so sturdy and capable, +leaning from the window of his cab, as the one who is to +take you home.</p> + +<p>Up through the South you fly, past many places you +have seen before, past towns where you have friends +whom you would like to see again—only not now! Now +nothing will do but home! Out of the region of magnolias, +palmettoes and live-oaks you pass into the region +of pines, and out of the region of pines into that of +maples and elms. At last you come to Washington.... +Only a few hours longer! How satisfyingly +the train slips along! You are not conscious of curves, +or even of turning wheels beneath you. Your progress +is like the swift glide of a flying sled. Baltimore, Wilmington, +Philadelphia, Trenton. Nothing to do but +look from the car windows and rejoice. Not that you +love the South less, but that you love home more.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if we will ever go on such a trip as this +again?" you say to your companion.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe so," he replies.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem now as though we should," you return. +"But do you remember?—we talked the same +way when we were coming home before. What will it +be two years hence?"</p> + +<p>"True," he says. "And of course there's Conan +Doyle. He always thinks he's never going to do it any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_680" id="Page_680">[Pg 680]</a></span> +more. But in a year or so Sherlock Holmes pops out +again, drawn by Freddy Steele, all over the cover of +'Collier's.' Not that your stuff is as good as Doyle's, +but that the general case is somewhat parallel."</p> + +<p>"Doyle has killed Holmes," you put in.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he agrees, "and several times you've almost +killed me."</p> + +<p>Then as the train speeds scornfully through Newark, +without stopping, he catches sight of a vast concrete +building—a warehouse of some kind, apparently.</p> + +<p>"Look!" he cries. "Isn't it wonderful?"</p> + +<p>"That building?"</p> + +<p>"Not the building itself. The thought that we don't +have to get off here and go through it. Think what it +would be like if we were on our travels! There would +be a lot of citizens in frock coats. Probably the mayor +would be there, too. They would drive us to that building, +and take us in, and then they would cry if we refused +to go to the fourteenth floor, where they keep the +dried prunes."</p> + +<p>The train slips across the Jersey meadows and darts +into the tunnel.</p> + +<p>"Now," he remarks hopefully, "we are really going +to get home—if this tunnel doesn't drop in on us."</p> + +<p>And when the train has emerged from the tunnel, and +you have emerged from the train, he says: "Now +there's no doubt that we are going to get home—unless +we are smashed up in a taxi, on the way."</p> + +<p>And when the taxi stops at your front door, and you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_681" id="Page_681">[Pg 681]</a></span> +bid him farewell before he continues on his way to his +own front door, he says: "Now you're going to get +home for sure—unless the elevator drops."</p> + +<p>And when the elevator has not dropped, but has transported +you in safety to the door of your apartment, and +you have searched out the old key, and have unlocked the +door, and entered, and found happiness within, then you +wonder to yourself as I once heard a little boy wonder, +when he had gone out of his own yard, and had found a +number of large cans of paint, and had upset them on +himself:</p> + +<p>"I have a very happy home," he said, reflectively. "I +wonder why I don't seem to stay around it more?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> From "Historic Towns of the Southern States."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> See chapter on Colonel Taylor and General Lee.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The <i>Merrimac</i>, originally a Federal vessel of wooden construction, +was sunk by the Union forces when they abandoned Norfolk. A Confederate +captain, John M. Brooke, raised her, equipped her with a ram, +and covered her with boiler plate and railroad rails. She is called the +first ironclad. While she was being reconstructed John Ericsson was +building his <i>Monitor</i> in New York. The turret was first used on this +vessel. It is worth noting that at the time of the engagement between +these two ships the <i>Monitor</i> was not the property of the Federal Government, +but belonged to C. S. Bushnell, of New Haven, who built her at +his own expense, in spite of the opposition of the Navy Department of +that day. The Government paid for her long after the fight. It should also +be noted that the <i>Merrimac</i> did not fight under that name, but as a Confederate +ship had been rechristened <i>Virginia</i>. The patriotic action of Mr. +Bushnell is recalled by the fact that, only recently, Mr. Godfrey L. Cabot, +of Boston, has agreed to furnish funds to build the torpedoplane designed +by Admiral Fiske as a weapon wherewith to attack the German fleet +within its defenses at Kiel.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> + +<p>Page 82: changed "Ridgleys" to "Ridgelys" (of present Ridgelys)</p> + +<p>Page 83: changed "her serious, eyes" to "her serious eyes"</p> + +<p>Page 138: Added missing word "we" (said as we were about to leave)</p> + +<p>Page 161: removed hyphen from "one-course" (prescribed one course)</p> + +<p>Page 169: changed "not" to "now" (now know that I did)</p> + +<p>Page 172: added missing quotation mark (such a long telegram.")</p> + +<p>Page 209: changed "Virgina" to "Virginia" (in Virginia, save,)</p> + +<p>Page 217: changed "it" to "in" (harm in it)</p> + +<p>Page 217: added missing quotation mark (raised with niggers around him."")</p> + +<p>Page 245: removed superfluous quotation marks from end of two lines<br /> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">(Yass, Jedge, drunk. <i>Always</i> drunk.)</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">(he come so fast he untook the do' off'n de hinges; den 'e begins--")</span></p> + +<p>Page 283: added missing quotation mark (you very definitely don't.")</p> + +<p>Page 287: changed "Okrakoke" to "Ocracoke" (legend around Okracoke)</p> + +<p>Page 295: changed "seem" to "see" (them to see him)</p> + +<p>Page 328: changed "new York" to "New York" (New York "Sun,")</p> + +<p>Page 334: changed "coffe" to "coffee" (coffee, hot and iced.)</p> + +<p>Page 355: changed "maried" to "married" (were married in the dining room)</p> + +<p>Page 438: changed "corporaton" to "corporation" (corporation I have scandalously)</p> + +<p>Page 449: changed "constructon" to "construction" (With the construction)</p> + +<p>Page 450: changed "conversatons" to "conversations" and "wth" to "with" (telephonic conversations with a)</p> + +<p>Page 453: changed "objectons" to "objections" (brushed aside our objections.)</p> + +<p>Page 514: changed " to ' ("'Yes,' said Ed.)</p> + +<p>Page 518: added missing quotation mark (town in the Southwest.")</p> + +<p>Page 521: changed "repreduction" to "reproduction" (is a photographic reproduction)</p> + +<p>Page 527: changed "crusing" to "cruising" (was still cruising in the South)</p> + +<p>Page 528: added missing word "a" (officer of a naval vessel.)</p> + +<p>Page 532: changed "stading" to "standing" (and silver standing on the)</p> + +<p>Page 538: added missing word "ago" (years ago he conducted)</p> + +<p>Page 542: added missing quotation mark (innumerable squirrels.")</p> + +<p>Page 590: changed "redout" to "redoubt" (last redoubt held)</p> + +<p>Page 631: changed "hardly" to "hardy" (hardy pioneers from Canada,)</p> + +<p>Page 640: added missing ) ("mosquito bar.") The)</p> + +<p>Page 649: changed "This, situation is" to "This situation is" (This situation is)</p> + +<p>Page 649: changed "may" to "my" (it was my chance)</p> + +<p>Page 655: added missing quotation mark (the Jolly Roger.")</p> + +<p>Page 657: changed "well-know" to "well-known" (too well-known "Last)</p> + +<p>Page 669: changed "is" to "it" (that it bears the relation)</p> + +<p>Page 670: changed "that" to "than" (even than the pageants)</p> + +<p>Page 734: changed "coconut" to "cocoanut" in image caption (palm fronds of the cocoanut grove,)</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of American Adventures, by Julian Street + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICAN ADVENTURES *** + +***** This file should be named 18304-h.htm or 18304-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/0/18304/ + +Produced by Susan Skinner and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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