CHAPTER IV.
Railroads, drawing-room cars, sleepers, and hotel
cars—Cookery in restaurants, hotels, and private houses—Chicago—Mrs.
Kate Doggett, Mrs. Fernando Jones, General Osborne—American affection for
England.
THE journey from the Atlantic seaboard to Chicago
gave me my first experience in American railroad travelling. I thought
then I had performed a great feat, as I left New York on Monday morning
and did not reach the "garden city" till Wednesday, though my train, like
Dr. Watts's sun, "never tired or stopped to rest." Subsequent journeys
over the Rocky Mountains, across the plains to California, through Arizona
and Texas, taught me afterward to regard this as quite "an easy run." The
stations are called depôts, the
carriages are "cars," the line is known as the "track," the engine is
spoken of as a "locomotive," the guards as "conductors," the luggage is "freight," and the signal for starting is the cry of "All aboard." The
ordinary cars hold about forty persons, and the utter want of ventilation
almost stifles you. No one will allow you to open a window. If you venture
on such an indiscretion, the conductor remonstrates "most politely"
against an innovation so singular that it at once betrays your nationality
and ignorance of the ways and manners of the natives. If you persist, he
ends the argument by closing the window himself, quietly remarking, "I
guess we can't afford to warm the prairies as we pass."
Fortunately, though the great Republic acknowledges no first or second
class, most of the trains are provided with drawing-room cars, in which,
for a few extra dollars, you enjoy plenty of space and better air,
magnificent upholstery, dressing-rooms, iced water, grand mirrors, etc.,
while comfortable arm-chairs are ranged on either side of the avenue down
the middle, through which people are always passing "back and forth," as
they term it, and boys ply a brisk trade in papers, books, figs, and
candies. At night this is changed for a sleeping-car; bona fide
beds are made up, like the berths in an ocean steamer, one above the
other, and ladies and gentlemen retire to rest behind the curtains which
screen them off from the gaze of each other and the inevitable avenue
walker, while the negro porter in attendance cleans the passengers' boots,
and watches to see that light-fingered gentry do not deprive innocent
sleepers of their watches and money. The entire arrangement is so
novel, that an English traveller finds it difficult to become reconciled
to being packed up for the night in this promiscuous fashion; for though
we have Pullman sleepers for night Journeys on trains to Manchester,
Liverpool, and Edinburgh, they are but little used by ladies.
Without being prudish, the idea of a stranger occupying, the berth above
you, enclosed within the shelter of your own curtains, is distasteful to
most people. It is somewhat surprising that our Yankee Cousins, who
astonish us by providing a separate entrance for ladies in their hotels,
and strain at so many gnats in other directions, should swallow such a
camel as one sleeping-car, without even arranging that all the ladies
should be assigned the part nearest their dressing-room, and the gentlemen
the opposite end next the smoking-room. At first I rebelled altogether against the sleeping-car institution, not
so much from modesty, I confess, as from a nervous dread of asthma in
these narrow, closed-up sections. Latterly, however, I became quite
reconciled to it; and indeed, the long journeys across the plains and to
the South would be impossible without the rest it affords, and at last I
learned to slumber as peacefully in a Pullman sleeper as in an ordinary
bed, and almost to prefer night to day journeys. Every night the linen
sheets and pillow-slips are changed, and one of the heaviest expenses of a
sleeping-car is the washing bill. The Wagner Company, I am told, pays
30,000 dollars a year, and the Pullman bill for washing is still heavier. The conductors and porters in these drawing-room and sleeping-cars are
some of the most polite men to be found in the whole of America; the
former are most intelligent, and take infinite pains to give the stranger
any information respecting the route, pointing out places of interest with
all the pride of ownership derived from their possession of the road.
A great deal has been written about the luxury of American railroad
travelling. It did not strike me as luxurious. It is supposed that these
hotel cars accompany each train, and that you have only to step in from
your saloon carriage and breakfast and dine whenever you please while
continuing your journey. When you do strike this institution, I admit it
is a boon to the weary traveller doomed to such long distances; but as far
as my own experience goes, hotel
cars, like angel's visits, are few and far between, and meals are arranged
at hours which make them practically useless. For instance, en route
for Denver, dinner was
offered me at half-past twelve, an hour after I left Chicago, where I had
enjoyed an excellent ten o'clock breakfast at the Palmer House. Toward the
end of the afternoon my thoughts naturally reverted to the subject of
food, but I found I had lost my opportunity. The hotel car had been
dropped at a depôt when the dinner was over, and I was told we should
not "take up another till the next morning." Thanks, however, to the
Luncheon Basket—its size demands the use of capital letters—which, after
one or two such experiences, was always well stocked by my thoughtful
travelling companion, we became quite independent of these
will-o'-the-wisp dining-cars. The said basket was duly provisioned with
tins of oysters, hardboiled eggs, a cold roast fowl, celery, cheese, pots
of fresh butter, jam, tea, and claret; so with our portable kettle and
spirit lamp, and with the supplies of fresh bread the porter purchased for
us at the eating-house depôts, we were able to defy starvation for several days. Fruit and coffee can also be obtained on the road, but the
latter is seldom good, and often costly. In Arizona, for instance, I have
paid a dollar for two cups of coffee which were not fit to drink. Just
when our long journeys were over the Pullman Company opened a buffet at
one end of the drawing-room cars, so that good bread and butter, cold
meats, tea and coffee, can now be obtained whenever passengers require "that which is necessary for the animal frame."
I heartily congratulate my American friends on this arrangement, for
luncheon baskets are not without their difficulties; food is apt to grow
stale after a day or two, and existence on the menu I have indicated becomes monotonous after the fifth
consecutive meal!
The trains stop at the eating-house depots for meals at certain hours, but
the food is so badly cooked that it is difficult to eat and impossible to
digest. I must note one remarkable exception, for I never wish for a
better breakfast than I had at La Junta in Colorado. Before departing I
complimented the manager on the culinary art displayed by his chef, and
then the mystery,
was explained. The proprietor proved to be a German, who had learned his
trade in Paris; and while waiting for the train to start off again on its
way
across the plains into Kansas, we talked over American shortcomings in
this direction, and agreed that the proverb "God sends the food, and the
devil the cook" is terribly applicable to this country. "They don't
understand anything about keeping meat till it
is tender; they kill and cook right away," he said. In every city, hotel
cooking is inferior to what you find in the restaurants. Delmonico's and
the Brunswick in New York hold their own with the best dinners I ever had
in Paris, or at the Criterion, Bristol, or Continental in London; there
are restaurants I could name in Boston, Baltimore, New Orleans, and San
Francisco, to which I was introduced by hospitable practiced diners-out,
and which are equally good. The hotels make the mistake of aiming at an
extensive menu—quantity rather than quality.
A sagacious black waiter once remarked to me when travelling through
Alabama, "What people want here is a good square meal; they are not particular about what they eat, if only they have a lot of things placed in
front of them."
If you pass out of the narrow range of the millionaires who keep French
cooks at fabulous wages, or the few houses in which the science of eating
is really understood, you find a superabundance of bad cooking,
indigestible hot breads, tough beefsteaks hardly warmed through, greasy
potatoes—considered an indispensable breakfast dish in America—to say
nothing of wonderful and fearful inventions in the shape of pastry cakes
and sweets, and unlimited supplies of iced water. A sense of taste is
probably one of the last and highest stage of civilization.
Many of my friends across the Atlantic frankly "own up" to their
country's defects as far as culinary matters are concerned, and an effort
is being made to establish cooking schools for ladies in the large cities. The American housewife is often at the mercy of some raw Irish servant,
and if she has no practical knowledge she can not possibly cope with
Bridget's ignorance and wastefulness. Miss Parloa's classes in New York
have been well attended, and she seems more than satisfied with the
progress she is making, and asserts that "at no distant day Americans
will surpass Europeans in the art of cookery"—"a consummation devoutly to
be wished" by many who have sighed over the difficulties to be encountered
directly you leave the shadow of the larger cities, or can appreciate the
fact that there is a delicacy and refinement appertaining to the food you
eat, as much as to the clothes you wear and the books you read. And
indeed, as Owen Meredith says:
"We may live without poetry, music, and art,
We may live without conscience, and live without heart.
We may live without friends, we may live without books,
But civilized man can not live without cooks.
He may live without books; what is knowledge but grieving?
He may live without hope; what is hope but deceiving?
He may live without love; what is passion but pining?
But where is the man that can live without dining?" |
Just as a sensitive mind dreads contact with anything unrefined, the delicate
palate refuses coarsely prepared food. There is a wide gulf between
gluttony and a due
appreciation of the science of cookery, and in the interests of health
itself this can not be too
emphatically stated. Ladies working in the temperance cause should lay
this to heart, for many a man has been driven to the use of stimulants for
want of a good, nourishing diet. It has been said that France
is a sober nation because it is a nation of cooks. Imperfectly nourished
persons naturally crave for stimulants, and every thoughtful person will
acknowledge that the health and happiness of the people will be promoted
by good cookery. I remember reading an
amusing article on the "joyless American face." The writer said it was
not the evidence of an impassioned soul, of conflicting doubts or
spiritual yearnings, but it is, he exclaimed, "the pies, hot biscuits,
pickles, strange drinks, and other vagaries of our national appetite. The
American stomach has been for years, generally and individually, the
laboratory of the profoundest experiments in the matter of peculiar
mixtures. We bolt unwholesome provisions, containing the antipodes of heat
and cold, in the midst of business hours, and then wonder that we are
brought up sharp with a life-long attack of dyspepsia."
My first visit to Chicago was made a year after the great fire, when the
hearts of the people were still full of the destruction of their property
and the desolation of their homes, 50,000 families having been suddenly
rendered shelterless by the conflagration, which destroyed 27,000 acres of
buildings in twenty-four hours, and drove the people into the lake and on
to the prairie for safety, and husbands and wives were for days in
suspense as to the fate of those nearest and dearest to them.
Grace Greenwood once told me she regarded Chicago as "New York with the
heart left in"; but unable to yield this tribute without an accompanying
joke, she added that the genuine Chicagoan had not only learned the
Scotchman's prayer, "Lord, gie us a gude conceit o' oorsels," but had it
abundantly answered! Thus it is alleged what when a true-spirited citizen
from Chicago first visits New York, he exclaims, "It isn't much of a city
after all." When he drinks New York whisky he complains it isn't half as
good as he gets at home, for it only burns "half-way down"! The Sunday
newspapers can't compare with his; and as for the feet to be seen on Fifth
Avenue, he contemptuously remarks, "Call that a foot!—our girls have
them twice the size!" Of Course this is a gross libel on the cultured
representative of the West. The history of Chicago is indeed without a
parallel. Fifty years back it was the haunt of the Indian and wolf; and
to-day, in spite of the fearful fire of 1871, it has magnificent
buildings, law-courts, public libraries, churches, and hotels. The Palmer
House, an entirely fire-proof building, is one of the best hotels in
America, thanks to the untiring energy of its courteous manager, Mr.
Willis Howe. The splendid houses on Michigan and Prairie Avenues are
models of taste and elegance, and those who have had the good fortune to
gain access to the right set, find in Chicago a thoroughly refined and
cultivated society.
My first recollections of this city are connected with Mrs. Kate Doggett,
whose death last March many are still deploring. Her wide range of
talents, and extensive acquaintance with European literature, attracted
both men and women prominent in various departments of thought and labour,
and her hospitable home in palmy days was therefore the centre of many
distinguished gatherings. The social amenities which make up so-called "society life" were unpleasant to her, and a severe manner was apt to be
mistaken by strangers for want of sympathy, especially as this was
combined with a somewhat aggressive adherence to her own opinions, and a
tendency to
ignore the possibility of any other view. She founded the Philosophical
Society and Fortnightly Club, and was certainly a power in the circle she
moved in. After a brief and pleasant stay at her house on Michigan Avenue,
I was entertained by Mr. and Mrs. Fernando Jones, under whose kind
auspices I visited everything of interest in the city, including an
institution about 100 miles away from it, viz., the Home for Disabled
Soldiers at Milwaukee. We were escorted there by General Osborne, who
materially aided in achieving the one victory ever gained over the
redoubtable Stonewall Jackson, and shared with General Sheridan the honour
of receiving one of the two pistols awarded to the "bravest general, in
the Union Army."
As one of the managers of the National Asylums, established on the
contributions of "bounty jumpers" and the fines of deserters, General
Osborne invited me to see the Wisconsin Home, where deserving soldiers are
cared for at the expense of bad ones. After a pleasant dinner at the
Governor's, we were taken to the Institution itself, and received by the
officers and their wives, who accompanied us through the building—the
library and reading-rooms, lecture and concert hall, post and telegraph
office, and hospital ward, with its excellent staff of nurses, until we
reached the workshops, where those who desire it can learn any kind of
trade. At five o'clock the bugle sounded, and 600 soldiers assembled in the concert-hall. I was conducted to the
platform by the Governor, General Osborne, and Colonel Ludwicke, and the
inevitable speeches occupied at least an hour.
At the conclusion of this part of the entertainment the soldiers, at the
Governor's invitation, sent a most "enthusiastic greeting" to the
British Army, accompanied by deafening cheers. How I was to convey it
I
never knew. But I thoroughly understood what it meant, and the constant
expressions of devotion to the old country, which are heard throughout the
States, can not fail to awaken the traveller's cordial response. The
fervid words of the American poet simply express the widespread sentiment
of his countrymen, and must certainly find an echo in every manly English
breast:
"Britons—in hope and creed,
In blood and tongue our brothers;
We too are heirs of Runnymede,
And Shakespeare's fame and Cromwell's deed
Are not alone the mother's!
"'Thicker than water,'—in one rill,
Through centuries of story,
Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still
We share with them its good and ill,
The shadow and the glory!
"Joint-heirs and kinsfolk, leagues of wave
Nor length of years can part us,
The right is ours to shrine and grave,
The common freehold of the brave,
The gift of saints and martyrs.
"Our very sins and sorrows teach
Our kindred frail and human;
We carp at faults with bitter speech,
The while, for one unshared by each,
We have a score in common." |
In spite of recent drastic comments, which have naturally excited some
resentment in the breasts of our American cousins, even Sir Lepel Griffin
owns that they are indeed "bone of our bone"; and he recognizes that when
the united Anglo-Saxon race, disdaining all possible occasion of quarrel,
joins hands across the Atlantic, "the peace and progress of the world
will be insured." Whether such utterances as are to be found elsewhere in
Sir Lepel's book are likely to "cement this lasting alliance" is perhaps
another question, but it is satisfactory to note that an Englishman who
has discovered so many faults in "the Great Republic" frankly acknowledges
that the position "in which Americans have placed their women, is the
best guarantee that the nation will outgrow the blemishes" he now
complains of, and "will in the future attain a higher civilization than
has been enjoyed by any people who have regarded their intellectual and
political life as the undivided dominion of man."
CHAPTER V.
A visit to the University of Michigan—President Angel—Andrew White of
Cornell—Professor Coit Tyler—Kansas State Unicersity—Chancellor
Lippincott—Discussion about co-education—Columbia College—Rev. Dr. Dix
and Professor Drisler—Consequences of higher education on health—Views
of Frances Power Cobbe, George MacDonald, Mrs. Joseph Choate, President
Barnard—Rise and Progress of the movement in England—Miss Dawes, the
first Master of Arts in the London University—Mrs. Lucy Mitchell.
THE University of Michigan, which, through State aid, offers its
privileges to all persons of either sex who are qualified for admission,
was naturally an object of considerable interest to me. Here I was told
that while the question of co-education was being discussed in the Eastern
States it had been practically settled in the West. At the President's
house at Ann Arbor I had the pleasure of meeting Andrew White, then
President of Cornell, and I heard him lecture on "The Battlefields of
Science," describing the opposition which had been encountered in every
period of history from superstition and fanaticism.
The following day Professor Coit Tyler took me over the University, which
is organized in three departments—literature, science, and arts; medicine
and surgery; and law. I saw the women students attending all classes save
the medical; here they have separate lectures and clinical
demonstrations. One of these I attended personally, and when it concluded
the sixty women left the room, and in another moment their places were filled by men, who listened to the same lecture we
heard, accompanied by the same illustrations. "Far from injuring the
scholarship here," remarked one of the graduates, "they are, by their
earnestness and fidelity, stimulating it; their presence is beginning to
give class-room conversation that delicate, chaste, and humane tone which
the recognition of women among the readers of books has been giving to
English literature during the last hundred years." The President assured
me that none of the ladies had found the curriculum too heavy for their
physical endurance, adding emphatically, "any woman who can endure the
strain that modern dress and modern society make upon her, can certainly
endure any college course of instruction." The same testimony was
afforded by President White of Cornell, who declared it would be difficult
to find women in better health than those at Cornell, and that "the
effect of study was far less disastrous than frivolous, aimless lives."
President Warren, of the Boston University, has also recently stated that
he could not recall a single instance in nine years of a girl's health
giving way from overwork.
When I visited the Kansas State University last March (1884), Chancellor
Lippincott spoke in the strongest terms about the success of the movement
there, claiming that the co-education scheme having been carried in the
Legislature of 1864, Kansas deserves the credit of being the first State
in the Union to adopt it. "A kindlier and more courteous spirit has marked
all the students, the roughness and brutality known in so many Eastern
colleges have never appeared here, and in seventeen years of the
most radical co-education not a whisper of scandal has disturbed the
social life of the University."
But in spite of what has been accomplished at the Boston University,
Michigan, Oberlin, and Cornell, the propriety of opening universities to
women is still hotly disputed in some quarters. The matter was being
vigorously contested in New York in many circles in the spring of 1883,
Columbia College being the battlefield and the Rev. Dr. Dix the leader of
the opposing force, who boldly predicted the "ruin of the sex" as the
result of the movement. Dr. Dix is evidently in sympathy with the Pope,
who was horror-stricken at the proposal to found a college for women at
Montpellier, which he feared would "inflate" their minds with "the pride
of a vain and impotent science."
I was also much amused at the support the opposition received from Dr.
Drisler, the Greek professor, who expressed to the Tribune reporter "the
fear that girls would take to cigarette smoking, hotel dinners with toasts
and responses, and the punch-bowl" if ever admitted to men's colleges.
Direful indeed are to be the consequences of higher education. Health is
to perish before it, matrimony to become distasteful, and motherhood
impossible! As women are able to go through severe fatigue as nurses in
cases of fever and prolonged illness, as they toil in factories, at
sewing-machines, and wash-tubs, I call only suppose these gentlemen think
that their physical strength may be drawn upon as much as we like as long
as we carefully abstain from allowing them to exert their minds.
I wish people who feel such a tender solicitude for the welfare of girls
would take the trouble to trace to its right source what Miss Cobbe
describes as "the little health of women." What of the heavy skirts which
have to be dragged up and down steep stairs, which collect a vast amount
of dampness and dirt if a girl ventures out on a rainy day, and
necessitates an entire change of clothing on her return; the high-heeled
boots and the low-necked dresses, the ill-cooked and irregular meals, and
the barbarous custom of letting bad hot air into houses in the place of
the wholesome open fires which give warmth and ventilation at the same
time?
The worst thing possible is to be obliged to live as hundreds of young
ladies are forced to do in fashionable society, in obedience to customs
which are destructive to everything worthy and noble. George MacDonald
says he believes "many women go into consumption just from
discontent—the discontent of a soul that was meant to sit at the Father's
table, and so can not content itself with the husks that the swine eat." I
venture to assert that reasonable clothing, plenty of air and exercise,
combined with mental activity, would put an end to half the bodily
ailments by which women are now troubled. The proper exercise of the
intellectual powers would prove the best means of preventing and
counteracting an undue development of the emotional nature. The
extravagances of imagination and feeling have much to do with the
ill-health of girls.
Miss Maria Mitchell, Professor of Astronomy at Vassar College, read a
remarkable paper before the first Congress of the Association for the
Advancement of Women, in which she frankly stated that
from a recent visit to England she could not help thinking that there was
more interest in educational questions on our side of the Atlantic. "I
rarely meet in my own country," she said, "one who is interested in the
education of women, unless she is
herself an educator. The mass of our people do not believe in the
education of women. They believe that women should know no more of
mathematics
than just to be able to count. But do not most people, even of the
intelligent classes, believe that above all things a woman's first duty is
to be useful in the
kitchen and ornamental in the parlour? Public sentiment does not yet
require learning in woman, society is decidedly opposed to it; and however
public sentiment may be constructed, 'society' is decidedly fashioned by
women. It belongs to women themselves to introduce a better order of
things."
The listlessness of wealthy women to the educational needs of their sex is
apparent in several directions. How few women, for instance, of either
nation have left money for the benefit of woman's needs and colleges! Well
might Mrs. Stanton point to the vast sums left to men's colleges: Mrs.
Bunn, of Baltimore, left 30,000 dollars to Princeton, Mrs. Garretson gave
300,000 dollars to an Illinois college, and Mrs. Dudley, of Albany,
presented 150,000 dollars to a scientific institute for men, "while
Harvard," she continued, "has received three gifts of 25,000 dollars each
from Miss Plummer, Mary Townsend, and Sarah Jackson, and from other ladies
30,000 dollars, and yet for years returned her thanks by closing her doors
against all New England's daughters." Even then, when the "Annex" was
first opened about
five years ago, the ladies had to pay fifty dollars more than the men for
the privilege of lecturers to themselves.
Since Miss Mitchell uttered the regret I have quoted, I think her
countrywomen have really exerted themselves to bring about a "better
state of things." A charter has been obtained for the Harvard Annex, which is
now known under the more dignified title of "The Society for the
Collegiate Education of Women," and I have to thank Mr. Gilman for a very
pleasant visit there in the spring of 1883. I received Mrs. Louis Agassiz's valuable testimony that "all anxiety respecting the presence of
young ladies in the Harvard University was dissipated by the result of the
first year's trial." While admitting that it is improbable that many women
will desire a collegiate education, Mrs. Agassiz maintains that those who
intend to become teachers, writers, journalists, or have a strong impulse
for intellectual and scientific pursuits, should have the opportunity of
doing so.
Mrs. Joseph Choate, when speaking of the efforts of the New York
Association for the Higher Education of Women, assured me that the reason
why American women ask admission into existing colleges is that they
experience, as we do in England, the greatest difficulty in obtaining
first-rate teaching in separate colleges, and they naturally look to the
opening of the university classes as the simplest and best means of
providing higher education and raising a class of really cultivated
teachers.
In February, 1883, Mrs. Choate forwarded to the trustees of Columbia
College the petition in which the Association I have spoken of stated that
the present condition of public opinion, both here and abroad, favoured admitting
women to the same educational advantages as men, and cited the recent
action of the Universities of Cambridge and London. The trustees were
requested to extend to properly qualified women the advantages of Columbia
College, by admitting them to examinations and lectures. This petition was
signed by about 1,400 persons, including President Arthur, General Grant,
Secretary Folger, Justice Davis, ex-Judge Dillon, the Rev. Drs. Howard
Crosby, Henry C. Potter, John Hall, Richard S. Storrs, and Robert Collyer,
Drs. Austin Flint, Frederick R. Sturgis. William A. Hammond, and Alonzo
Clark, Lloyd Aspinwall, Mr. Peter Cooper, Cyrus W. Field, Edmund C.
Stedman, John Jay, George William Curtis, many principals and teachers in
schools for young ladies, and by prominent ladies and gentlemen of New
York and Brooklyn.
The trustees of Columbia College, however, satisfied themselves with
declaring that co-education, which they were not asked to decide upon, was
"inexpedient," but nevertheless undertook to prepare a course of study to
be pursued outside the College, with examinations by its professors, and a
diploma or testimonial to be given to those who successfully passed the
three-years' course. They declined, however, to admit women to the College
lectures and examinations.
Columbia had always been regarded as a wealthy College,
but it soon afterward transpired that she was burdened with a heavy debt,
and had no money with which to provide for the instruction of women.
Those who signed the petition were told if they desired to found a school,
it must be entirely detached from the University; the Board would not go
further than agree to "consider how best to
develop the growth of so interesting a foundation."
President Barnard, of Columbia, has frequently expressed his sympathy
with Mrs. Choate and her colleagues. In his speech before the Convocation
of the University of the State of New York, in 1882, he demonstrated with
great force why the colleges should be opened to talent, irrespective of
sex; and in answer to the objection that young ladies under such
circumstances would be in danger of social familiarity with undesirable
persons, he remarked:
"To say that women sitting in the same lecture-room with men, for three or
four hours a day, are mingled socially with them during that time, is to
speak nonsense, or rather to say what is not true in fact. I know whereof
I speak. As an officer of a college in another State, I have had classes
of women, of from fifty to a hundred at once, in daily attendance on my
lectures, with my regular classes of young men, without any communication
taking place between them whatever beyond a respectful bow in passing. Young women might, with just as much propriety, be prohibited from going
to church because young men are there; and the same suggestion is still
more applicable to attendance at the opera or the theatre, or the social
receptions at the colleges which young ladies are allowed to attend, and
during which there is no limit at all to freedom of intercourse, which
extends often deep into the night, with the accompaniment of music and
dancing and solitary rambles through all the wide expanse of the college
halls and the grounds. There is no need of social 'mingling' between young
men and women in colleges at all, and with proper arrangements there will
be none. The experience of schools of inferior grade shows this plainly
enough. Of the several hundred academies of the State of New York, under
the direction of the regents of this University, the larger portion
receive both male and female students.
The scheme of instruction which these institutions attempt to carry out
embraces nearly or quite every subject taught in our colleges, and the
ages of many of their pupils are as advanced as the average age of college
students. Yet though this system has been in operation in these academies
time out of mind, we have never heard of any injurious consequences
resulting from the intermingling of the sexes in their class-rooms, or out
of
them. I myself, in my juvenile days, was a member of such an
academy in the State of Massachusetts. In the same academy, at the same
time, there were not only boys and girls of tender age, but also young men
and young women, quite grown up. During school-hours, though all the
pupils were assembled together in the same room, there was no possible
intercommunication between them; out of school-hours the boys gathered
together to pursue their sports, or went and came by themselves, and the
girls did the same. Between these two classes there was practically no
intercourse at all—certainly no more than occasionally occurs in going to
or from church."
In spite of the good opinion Miss Mitchell formed of the interest felt in
England on the educational question, it took a great many years to
extinguish Mrs. Malaprop's sentiments, though few would have expressed
them quite so openly or ignorantly: "I would by no means wish a daughter
of mine to be a progeny of learning. I don't think so much learning
becomes a young woman; for instance, I would never let her meddle with
Greek or Hebrew, or Algebra or Simony, or Fluxions or Paradoxes, or such inflammatory branches of learning! Nor will it be necessary for her to
handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instruments;
but, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to a
boarding-school, to
learn a little ingenuity and artifice. Then, sir, she should have a
supercilious knowledge in accounts, and as she grew up I would have her
instructed in
Geometry, that she might know something of the contagious countries; above
all, she should be taught orthodoxy. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would
have a woman know, and I don't think there is a superstitious article in
it." For a long time English girls for the most part only received an
education which simply aimed at a mere smattering of languages, a little
instrumental music, the use of the globes and dumbbells, and a few
superficial general notions. At best they were but dipped in a solution of
accomplishments, a process which only left on them a thin varnish, which
never bore the test of time.
Their education stopped at the very moment when it should begin in real
earnest. A youth's plea of serious study is received as a valid excuse for
his inability to answer the casual demands of society. But in our wealthy
classes, under the stern rule of fashion and frivolity, social claims and
pleasures compel higher duties to give way before them. A girl's work
seldom takes precedence over other people's amusement; invitations to
gossip, morning calls and afternoon parties kill the day, and her studies
are thrown to the winds; as Miss Cobbe says, "a woman is generally at the
beck and call of somebody, generally of everybody."
But the vexed question of the higher education of women at last attracted
the attention of some of our foremost men in England; the revelations
made by the Schools Inquiry Commission aroused even public indignation
when the imperfect teaching given in many of our pretentious ladies'
colleges was exposed, and then people began to ask, "What can be done to
remedy this state of things?"
The Englishwoman's Magazine was started in 1858 by Miss Parkes, Miss
Adelaide Procter, Miss Hays, and a few other ladies, who were determined
to keep the matter before the public. Miss Boucherett founded a society
for the same purpose, chiefly, however, directed toward promoting the
employment of women. The Social Science Association also called a
committee to consider the best way of advancing the interests of the sex,
and Lord Brougham invited me to join its deliberations.
Subsequently I organized in my own house a series of fortnightly breakfast
parties and conferences, for the purpose of discussing the best means of
inducing the Universities to admit girls to their local examinations. Thanks to the joint exertions of Lord Shaftesbury, Miss Emily Davis, the
Rev. F. Maurice, Canon Kingsley, Lord Lyttleton, Mr. Nassau Senior, Lord
Houghton, Mr. Russell Gurney, and others, the University of Cambridge, in
December, 1863, was induced to grant "an experimental examination," at
which upwards of ninety girls presented themselves. Shortly after both
Oxford and Cambridge admitted girls to their local examinations, and in
1882, 4,000 students were examined at the various local centres. The
Universities of Edinburgh, Dublin, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Durham, and St.
Andrews then followed the good lead, and in 1878 the University of London
secured a special charter for the admission of women to University degrees
on the same terms and conditions as men. This is our only English
University which insists on no conditions of collegiate residence.
Then came the establishment of Girton and Newnham Colleges at Cambridge. At first the University
only sanctioned this step by allowing its examiners to report on the
students' papers; about four years ago it consented to give women
certificates equivalent to degrees.
Oxford for a long time, acting on its traditional conservatism, held
aloof, though two institutions for women—Lady Margaret Hall and Sommerville
College—had been opened there. But this year (1884) the
friends of the higher education have won an important victory. The
statute framed for admitting women to certain of the examinations provided
for undergraduates was carried by a majority of 464 to 321, and for the
future women will have at Oxford the privileges accorded at Cambridge,
Edinburgh, the University of London, and elsewhere, of "a fair field and
no favour." Degrees will not be given at Oxford, but it is to be hoped that
the certificates accorded to women students will be definite enough to
give them a "marketable value."
The social dignity, if not the remuneration of teaching, depends very
largely on such a stamp of recognition. The last census shows that there
are more than 120,000 women teachers in Great Britain and Ireland, and to
these a certificate or University degree is certainly a matter of the
highest importance.
The examinations at the London University are notoriously severe, and
therefore the friends of the movement have reason to view with the utmost
satisfaction the result of the examination concluded in July, 1884, when
the highest distinction yet achieved by a woman was obtained by Miss
Dawes, a clergyman's daughter. Several hundreds have passed the
matriculation examination, but only fifty ladies have
hitherto received degree of Bachelor of Arts, eight that of Science, and three that of Medicine. Miss Mary Clara
Dawes passed the matriculation examination in January, 1879, and gained
the forty-seventh place in the Honours division. In last year's B.A.
examination she obtained honours in classics, with the first place in the
second class. This summer she is placed fourth in the list of the Masters
of Arts of the year who have taken the degree in the first branch of
examination. Mrs. Sophia Bryant, daughter of a late Fellow of Trinity
College, Dublin, also obtained the degree of Doctor of Science; and it is
worthy of note that her work for the University degree has been carried on
simultaneously for five years with teaching of a high order, as
mathematical mistress at the North London Collegiate School for Girls, a
fact ,which is an answer to much of the current questioning as to overwork
for women.
Indeed women are reaping laurels this year in several important
directions; it is said that "Michael Field" is but the nom de plume
of the lady who has produced the poetic dramas "Callirrhoe " and "Fair
Rosamond," and that the American student Mrs. Lucy Mitchell, so well known
to frequenters of the British Museum reading-room, and to the savants of
Berlin, has just published one of the best books ever written on Greek
Art.
CHAPTER VI.
Vassar College—Professor Maria Mitchell—President
Caldwell—Life of the students—Effect of study upon health—Improvements
in the direction of outdoor amusements between visits in 1873 and
1883—Riding, lawn-tennis, and boating—Wellesley College and its
fire-brigade manned by girls—Mills' Seminary, the Vassar of the Pacific
coast—Miss Haskell at Godfrey—Payment of female teachers in public
schools—English governesses—Colonel Higginson on the gross injustice of
the inequalities existing between the salaries of men and women teachers
in the United States—Kate Field on the difficulties surrounding
journalism—Anna Dickinson—The growing taste for plays versus
lectures.
Miss MARIA MITCHELL, to whom I alluded in the last chapter, gave me my
first invitation to Vassar College, where she holds the position of
Professor of
Astronomy and Director of the Observatory. Her reputation in the New World
is as deservedly great as Caroline Herschel's was in the Old.
I was not prepared for the beautiful surroundings of the College, which is
charmingly situated on the bank of the magnificent Hudson River, with the
Catskill Mountains stretching along the north and the Fishkills on the
south. The first day I knocked at the portal, on which I did not find the
poet's ideal
inscription, "Let no man enter in, on pain of death," though Tennyson's "Princess" had always been associated with my thoughts of Vassar. Nor
did I find within the "academic silks; in hue the lilac, with a silken
hood to each, and zoned with gold"—collegiate costumes so familiar to playgoers of the season, thanks to the
brilliant setting of the Gilbert and Sullivan burlesque of the Princess
Ida and her girl
graduates.
It was a bright but bitterly cold morning. The Ice King had set his seal
on land and water, the snow deep on the ground at Poughkeepsie, and
"Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch deep with pearl." |
When I revisited Vassar in 1883 the spring was far advanced, the
atmosphere was balmy, the skies were clear, the landscape exquisite in its
early
verdure, and the sun shone forth in marvellous splendour. On this occasion,
as the guest of the College, I was ensconced with due pomp and ceremony in
the Founder's Room, with its quaint old furniture of the First Empire, and
the portraits of various distinguished people on the walls, among them
Matthew
Vassar, "the founder, friend, and father" of the College, who appeared to
be solemnly watching me as I entered in my note-book before retiring to
rest a
few remarks respecting the splendid memorial he left behind him for the
benefit of American girls.
With pardonable pride I first record the fact that Mr. Vassar was an
Englishman, born on the Norfolk coast. Having acquired a vast fortune in
America, he
determined to found an institution which should be to girls what Harvard
and Yale are to boys. In 1860 he obtained a charter from the Legislature
of
New York, transferred 400,000 dollars to trustees, chose the site, and
erected the magnificent building in which some of the brightest and best
American
women have spent their happiest years. Several mothers complained to me
that daughters are always asking "to spend another year at Vassar." After
the pleasant time I spent there with President and Mrs. Caldwell, and what
I saw of the life of these bright and enthusiastic girls, I do not wonder
that they
are loth to quit a place full of such pleasant companionship, happy
experiences, and perfect freedom from care.
Mr. Vassar's munificence did not end with his first gift; 20,000 dollars
were expended on an Art Gallery, 75,000 dollars on building purposes, and
at his
death the College was found to be his principal inheritor.
Some idea of the size of Vassar—which stands on its own 200 acres—may
be gathered from the fact that, in the main building, besides
accommodation
for 400 students, there are six independent dwellings for the president,
resident professors, rooms for managers and 100 servants, lecture-halls,
class-rooms, parlours, a library, dining-hall, and chapel. The laboratory
is a separate building in the grounds, and so is the observatory,
containing some
splendid instruments, over which Professor Maria Mitchell reigns supreme. As you look into that strong, good face, shadowed by grey curls, which
soften its outline and grace it with a beauty which often comes with age,
you can understand the magnetic sympathy which holds her youthful scholars
spellbound, and makes their scientific investigations full of delight as
well as of wonder.
The students "room" together in groups, three or four sharing a pleasant
little study, round which their
separate small but well-ventilated bedrooms are arranged, and these are
furnished according to individual taste. Pleasant glimpses into character
were
afforded me of the owners thereof by sundry conversations in them. Some of
these little "parlours" would have even gladdened the heart of Oscar
Wilde,
had he been permitted to peep into them—so "utterly too-too" are they
in colouring and furniture.
In speaking on the health question, Miss Mitchell and the doctor in charge
of the physical well-being of the girls at Vassar stated that those who
studied the
hardest were the healthiest, and they did not hesitate to attribute the
general delicacy of American women to the terrible severity and extremes
of the
climate, the mode of heating the houses, and the widespread disinclination
to physical exercise, to say nothing of the intemperate use of iced water.
I may
note here, that while inspecting the steward's department I learned that
one item for that day's dinner was 200 quarts of ice-cream. Founder's day
is the greatest in the calendar at Vassar; it is the anniversary of Mr.
Matthew Vassar's birthday. Studies are laid aside,
and the evening is devoted to festivity. Cards of invitation are sent out
weeks previously by the students, and scores of young gentlemen and
friends
from all parts of the country respond, and "a real elegant time" is
generally the result.
There was an excellent riding-school attached to Vassar when I first went
there in 1873, and I was very sorry to find it had disappeared; "want of
funds"
was the reason assigned. A welcome was given to the girls at the Harvard
Annex to Dr. Sargeant's gymnasium there, but so little advantage was taken
of
it that he told me he was obliged after a short time to discontinue the
classes. Considering that the physical education of the future mothers of
the
Republic is as important as the mental, these facts are much to
be regretted. Fortunately the Hudson river and the lake in the Vassar
College grounds are available for boating in the summer and skating in the
winter, and many a student has achieved honourable distinction for herself
in handling the oar.
On the whole, however, it struck me during my last visit to America that a
great improvement had been effected generally respecting outdoor healthy
amusements. Lawn-tennis had become quite popular, and many girls I saw
were expert players. Considerable rivalry was displayed, not only
in point of skill, but costume; and very attractive these bright American
girls look in their tight-fitting jerseys and short skirts. Many of the
New York girls
ride well, too, and are very particular about the cut of their London
habits. You often see in the early morning parties of ten and twelve
riding together in
Central Park, with well-mounted grooms behind them. As one of the leaders
of society remarked to me as we were driving together, the "magnificence of the horses and carriages and sleighs to be seen at the
fashionable hour is one of the greatest signs of the growth of wealth and
luxury in
this republican city." Some of the girls frequent the fencing-school, but
are too much inclined to be content with the simplest movements; only a
few of the more daring spirits encounter the thrust. "As soon as one of
them makes a pass they both run away," confessed one of the teachers of
the noble art.
I was greatly disappointed to be unable to visit Wellesley College, but
was fortunate enough, at ex-Governor Claflin's at Boston, to meet the
president, a
bright, charming lady, very young to hold such a responsible position, but
one who is quite "master of the situation." The College is open to all,
but the
severe course of study soon weeds out the stupid and the ignorant, for
graduates from Wellesley are intended to "rank with graduates from Harvard and Yale. I hope the practical
work in connection with the fire-brigade will never disappear at Wellesley,
as the riding
school has at Vassar. The girls work the hand-pumps distributed throughout
the building, every pump
having six pails for water. Each pump has a captain and a company of six
girls, who are drilled in handling pumps, forming lines, and passing the
pails
of water—an excellent discipline, teaching what regular action is worth
in the presence of a danger unfortunately so frequent in American hotels
and
houses.
Vassar, Wellesley, and Smith's Colleges hold the position in the Eastern
States that Mills' Seminary does in the West. I spent a very pleasant day
at the
latter during my stay in San Francisco. The girl graduates enrolled,
represent not only California, but even the Sandwich Islands, British
Columbia, and
Mexico. Crossing the beautiful bay by ferry, I reached Oakland, and was
driven, behind a splendid pair of American trotters, through lovely
scenery to the
foot of the San Pablo range of mountains. In a secluded spot, in the midst
of the pine, oak, and eucalyptus trees, for which this part of the world
is
noted, I found a remarkably imposing building, full of eager, vivacious
Western girls at the most restless, assertive age, every one of them with
some
unlived
romance in her heart. It appeared marvellous that
such perfect discipline should be maintained. The whole thing seemed to go
like clockwork, though it is not easy to understand how all those
throbbing heart
strings are kept wound up and in order. It is scarcely possible to
over-estimate the value of such an institution on the Pacific coast, nor
the magnanimity of
its
founder, Mrs. Mills. Never had girls finer opportunities for study in the
midst of surroundings more attractive.
Nor can I forget while writing about colleges for girls the two days I
spent at the Monticello Seminary at Godfrey, about twenty miles from St.
Louis. I think if
any one asked me to name one of the "best times" I had during my last
trip to America, I should unhesitatingly reply, "the hours I spent with
Miss Haskell
at Monticello." Endowed with a fine personal presence, which might be too
imposing but for the genial manner and sweet womanliness of her nature,
Miss
Haskell's boundless share of genuine humour carries the stranger's heart
into instant and willing captivity. Seldom have I met with any one whose
influence was so magnetic and healthy. She has one of those rare and
beautiful natures which seems at once to bring out all the good in those
with whom
she comes in contact. Fortunate indeed are the girls who find themselves
placed under the beneficent care of this intellectual woman, who, in spite
of her
vast learning and grave responsibilities, retains such a buoyant youthful
nature, that when the hour comes for throwing down the reins of
government, and
promoting the wholesome fun, which is so important an item in a girl's
well-being, the youngest student in the College does not enter into any admissible frolic with keener zest than its
wise and cultured principal. Miss Haskell is still the leader, for she is
the heart and
soul of the entertainment, the merriest spirit in all the happy throng.
The system of co-education admits of discussion, but there is no question
whatever about the advantages of such colleges as these, when every effort
has been made to raise them to the height of great educational
institutions. Their endowments and gifted professors give them a distinct
prestige, and
can not fail to educate the minds of the people, and teach them to realize
the benefit of full collegiate advantages for women.
I was somewhat curious to ascertain if ordinary women teachers in America
suffered as much as English women do from want of adequate salaries. I
fear it is so, and there seems yet the opportunity for an honourable
rivalship in seeing which country shall first rate a woman's work at its
true value. In
America teachers are more trusted; they are certainly in great request,
and their work is excellent; but, thanks to tradition and prejudice, they
are still
under-paid. I read in one place of the preference for female teachers "on
the score of their cheapness, as well as on the ground of their general
efficiency." Another report declared, "We demand and receive the best
talent, and lavish on it per diem a sum scarcely equal to the amount paid
to the
washer woman." The average salaries of women teachers in Vermont range
from eight dollars per month (with board) to $750 a year, those of men
from twenty dollars a month to $1,600 a year. A teacher, in speaking of
this matter to me, said, "We are expected to work with alacrity, give up
our
time, be well posted in every subject, dress like ladies, and accept a
salary which a French cook would scorn." In the grammar schools the male
principals receive 3,000 dollars per annum, and vice-principals 2,500, the
women occupying a similar position receiving 2,000 and 1,200 dollars, and
yet
the work is as onerous for a woman as for a man. To be successful, a
school-teacher must have equal physical and mental energy, the women
require the same preparatory training, pass the same examinations, teach
the same number of hours, the work calls from them the same entire
devotion;
it does not only mean teaching, but the far higher task of shaping
careless, dull children into intelligent men and women, and the still more
delicate work of
guiding the lawless and precocious. The question of marriage, which is
often assigned as the reason of higher payment in the case of men, is
quite
irrelevant. The men are paid more whether they are married or single, and
women are paid less, though they may be widows with families to support.
People are perhaps beginning to be ashamed of advancing the argument often
heard in times past in England, viz., that women are less extravagant in
their habits, and require less food, etc., than men. But only the other
day the daughter of a British officer—a thoroughly qualified
governess—told me that
she had offered her services in that capacity to a lady, who replied, "I
shall be glad to engage you to teach my children in return for a
comfortable home,
as you must have a pension sufficient for your requirements without
salary." Who would dare to propose such a
thing to a man? Our very servants and charwomen are thought worthy of
their hire, but it is more difficult than people generally suppose for
educated
women to obtain justice.
I was both surprised and pained to see the following advertisement in the
New York Tribune a few months ago, for I had hoped American women would
never reach this extremity: "A lone lady of culture would give her time
in reading, writing for, and otherwise conducing to the happiness and
interest of a lady of means,—for a home." It is true that young men in both our
countries have nowadays to encounter keen competition, but there is no
class
of men compelled to offer intellectual service in return for food and
shelter.
The inequality in the salaries of the sexes reminds me of Colonel
Higginson's observation to me when we were once discussing the same
subject at
Boston. He naïvely remarked, "Like Charles Lamb, who atoned for coming
so late to his office in the morning by leaving it early in the afternoon,
we have
in the United States first half educated the women, and then, to restore
the balance, only half paid them."
Since these words were spoken much has been done to remedy the first
injustice; and most assuredly the day will come when competent teachers
will
be paid for competent work irrespective of sex.
That winter Anna Dickinson was lecturing on "What's to Hinder?" in which
she maintained that men received large salaries because they earned them,
while women get a small salary, and half the time do not earn that! This
she attributed to the poor nature of their work generally. She did not, to
my mind, lay quite sufficient stress upon the reason which accounts for
women's shortcomings in all directions of work, namely, the want of due
training, though she admitted that while "public opinion" makes it
pre-eminently dishonourable for a man to be idle, it not only stimulates
the love of ease
in women, but binds them hand and foot, to prevent them from working. "If a woman has to work," she continued, "let her choose her work, learn her
work, and know her work, and the world will doff its cap, and acknowledge
her true worth."
The recognition, as far as equal wages are concerned, has not yet come,
and that is a recognition which is of the greatest importance. The very
day after
hearing Miss Dickinson's lecture I visited the office of the Western Union
Telegraph Company in Broadway; there, the lady-superintendent, although
her
ability is indisputable, was in receipt of a considerably lower salary
than would be offered to a man under the same circumstances. Among the
operators was one who had learned the business in Russia and spoke several
languages, and was consequently often appealed to by the authorities in
the masculine department; nevertheless, she was not paid a higher salary
than the rest, and I am convinced it is this want of legitimate reward
which
depresses women in the various occupations they take up. Even in
literature women
are sometimes handicapped by sex. I was told on authority I could not
doubt, that a well-known American authoress, having always conducted her
business by correspondence with the firm that published her books, was
supposed to be one of the lords of creation, and paid accordingly.
When her sex was accidentally discovered, the payments were reduced. In
the lecture-field, Anna Dickinson, however, was a remarkable illustration
that the higher arts are often as just in their rewards to women as to
men. Patti and Christine Nilsson are certainly as well paid as any male
singer.
The "leading lady" of a theatrical company often receives a higher salary
than "the leading man," and the same applies as a rule to literature,
though by no
means to journalism.
Miss Kate Field has recently expressed herself so definitely as to the
difficulties a woman journalist experiences, that I shall quote her
opinion here, as her
means of forming a correct view in this particular direction in her own
country far exceed my own:
"In journalism woman's opportunity is vastly inferior to man's. I know of
women who are strong editorial writers, but their sex is their crime. Women, as a
rule, are not favourites in newspaper offices, though Miss Nelly
Hutchinson, of the New York Tribune, whose services are invaluable, is, I
believe,
thoroughly appreciated. She is an exception to the rule. Women are
accepted as correspondents, but otherwise they have little chance as
journalists.
A reporter must go everywhere at all hours; woman can
not then be an ordinary reporter. There is no reason why she should not be
a literary critic, and, on evening papers there is no good reason why
she should not be a musical and dramatic critic ; but as a matter of fact
she rarely is given the opportunity.
"In literature proper, I should say the woman of genius has an equal
chance with the man of genius; that the woman of less than genius has
inferior
training than man, and hence is at a disadvantage. In journalism a woman's
sex is her misfortune, and nothing but undaunted pluck can obtain for her
what is within easy reach of less able men—remember that I refer to daily
journalism. Miss Mary L. Booth is a shining example of woman's success in
editing a weekly paper. Mrs. Frank Leslie can not fairly be placed in the
same category, as she inherited Frank
Leslie's publications from her husband; but the masterly manner in which
she has resuscitated them from old creditors, and turned bankrupt stock
into a
yearly income of $100,000 and more, proves what woman can do even in the
finance of weekly journalism."
Miss Dickinson's own career was unique. The first thing that struck you
when you looked at her face, surrounded by a mass of raven-black curly
hair, was
the extreme power, passion, and spirited beauty of the dark flashing eyes,
and her whole physique denoted great nervous power. At one time she was a
teacher in a school, and then the fastest adjuster in the United States
Mint. At the invitation of William Lloyd Garrison she addressed a New
England
meeting from Theodore Parker's pulpit, and her magnetic power over her
audience was so great, that she was requested to give a course of
political
lectures, which were afterward described as "galvanizing the desponding
loyalists to life"—a march of "triumph ending in
a complete republican victory." From that time Anna Dickinson's position
as an orator was secure, and she received for many years a larger
income than any other regular lecturer. Latterly Miss Dickinson
endeavoured
to obtain dramatic laurels, to the great regret of most of her friends,
and much
to the loss of the lecture-goers. Whatever may be her title to
favour as an
actress, I can not say, not having had the chance of seeing her in this
capacity,
but there is no question as to her skill as a playwright! Her "Anne
Boleyn" is a tragedy full of powerful situations from beginning to end. When I last saw
Miss Dickinson at the Palmer House, Chicago, in March, 1884, she had been
confined to her room for weeks with a nervous illness; but her want of
"fair
play" on the stage had not
daunted her, and her conversation was as piquant, vital, and magnetic as
ever. I was glad to hear that she intended, as soon as her strength
permitted, to
return to her work as a lecturer, where she will doubtless soon regain the
position she abandoned for the stage, although the platform will never be
as
popular
as of old. The American people have ceased to support the literary
institutes as they did ten years ago; the vital questions which once
occupied the
attention of the speakers and audiences have received their solution,
those that now arise are discussed elsewhere. The public, as a rule, asks
for
amusement, not instruction. The Rev. Joseph Cook, who is regarded as a "leading local light"
on the American platform, had but poor support throughout the country
during
this last lecture season. A Buffalo paper stated that only $112 remained
after paying expenses, and an appeal was issued to make up the amount to
$500. Even the most popular speakers are forced to be contented with
smaller fees and smaller audiences, with the exception of Colonel Ingersoll,
who can fill the huge Music Hall at Chicago from floor to ceiling, and
whose progress through the West this winter was certainly most remarkable.
Whether people sympathize or not with his attacks on "Orthodoxy," they at
least have given his opinions a wide and impartial hearing throughout the
country.
The travelling theatrical company, however, now penetrates into regions
where once the lecturer was the only joy,—the one link with the great
world
beyond. If they clash, the play-actors have a full house and the lecturer
stands dismayed before a row of empty benches. Of course there are
exceptions to
this rule, and I for one have no cause to complain of the kind welcome
given me in most of the Institutes I spoke in during my last visit; but
the following
squib from an American paper represents the change of opinion which has
taken place of late years in regard to this once popular form of
entertainment,—a change Transatlantic cousins do not hesitate to ascribe
to the introduction of English lecturers: "Many persons, in addition to
denying
themselves their usual luxuries, believe in self-immolation, and compel
themselves to suffer as many inflictions as possible. For this class a
lecture
course is provided."
CHAPTER VII.
The Quaker city—Changes in society—School of Young Lady Potters—New
Century Club—The Mint, and women employed in it—Theatres and English
artists—Silk culture—Mr. George W. Childs, the Ledger, and his
work-people—Wootton—Original manuscripts and autographs—Walt Whitman:
his views
on New York, Boston, Washington, and the West—Mrs. Hannah Smith and the
Temperance Union—Coffee-houses.
THE "Quaker city" may certainly pride itself on being one of the finest
in the States, but the Philadelphians, though they glory in their
historical relics, are
just now sweeping away many of their picturesque houses, and replacing
them with some glaring new red brick and marble blocks, which certainly do
not
represent the highest type of architectural beauty. The Slate Roof House,
with its traditions of Penn, has gone within the last few years, and the
Franklin
Library has been upholstered in the newest fashion, and now the house in
which Jefferson was supposed to have written the Declaration is being
destroyed. A change, too, has come over "society." Once this was the city
in which family antecedents were prized most highly, but now wealth
has fought its way, and even the exclusive Assembly Balls have changed
their character. The very names of some of the streets have been altered,
though the principal ones still bear the titles bestowed by the founder of
the city, Walnut Street, Chestnut Street, Vine Street, Mulberry
Street, etc., taking their names from the abundance of the trees which
used to flourish in them.
But in spite of all changes Philadelphia retains a very high position, and
many of the innovations which are to be met with daily in cities like New
York and
Baltimore are not tolerated here. For instance, "society ladies" do not
attempt to paint their faces and improve their natural charms, after the
fashion set
by many of their sisters in other places. A leading doctor in Philadelphia
told me that a Baltimore lady who was staying here lately attempted to
walk down
Chestnut Street as she did at home, but found herself subjected to
comments which were far from pleasant, and was obliged to abandon the
rouge which
she could indulge in freely elsewhere, as she was fortunately unwilling to
place herself in a mistaken position. The Quaker leaven still works with
good
results, though many old customs have been laid aside with the slate-coloured
bonnets, cloaks, and old-fashioned prejudices. A healthy spirit of
activity
and desire for mental culture prevails, and the Philadelphia ladies are
first and foremost in all good works.
A most interesting sight can be obtained by a visit to the School of Young
Lady Potters, which is just now affording an admirable outlet for artistic
tendencies. There you find a number of bright-looking girls, in
appropriate costumes of long-sleeved gingham aprons, modelling church
cornices or
capitals for pillars, in the first place, then advancing to the full-length
figure. Here also the students are taught the chemistry of colours and
anatomy, and
find not only a delightful occupation, but a very remunerative one.
The ladies, too, have founded an excellent club, which under the name of "The New Century Club," not only affords a pleasant place for social
gatherings
and entertainments, but supplies a centre for all interested in women's
work and welfare. Directly I arrived "The New Century Club" gave me a
delightful
reception, at which I met most of the representative women in Philadelphia—doctors, chemists, teachers, students, artists, journalists, and wealthy
ladies
who are interested in all that belongs to social progress.
Valuable practical work goes on in connection with this Club, which
doubtless lies at the bottom of its success. Various committees have been
formed for
helping those who need advice and aid. For example, an association is at
work for the "Legal Protection of Working Women," which gives clearer
ideas
to those engaged in toil of the legal character of contracts, and helps
them to a proper conception of business relations—undertakes to look into
disputes,
and to protect its members in cases of difficulty. Nor is the art of
cooking neglected, though music, literary work, etc., come within the
scope of the
Club's labours. The fifth year of its existence has just come to an end,
and in spite of its having improved quarters, it can close its report
with the
satisfactory statement of "no debts" but cash in hand.
I spent a very interesting morning in the Mint, the superintendent,
Colonel Snowden, kindly enabling our party to see the entire process under
specially
favourable circumstances. We first inspected the Deposit Weighing Room,
where all the precious metals are received and weighed; then we were
admitted to the
vault with its double iron doors defying the burglar's art, in which are
kept the bars of gold and silver and the plate which is sent to be
converted into coin
by those who need to part with their treasures for the necessaries of
life, and we listened to some sad stories from the chief official in this
department
about the destitute ladies who come to sell their precious relics, showing
that life goes as hardly with the women of this country sometimes as it
does at
home. Then came the Melting Room with its fiery furnaces, and the Rooms of
the Refiners, who cast the metals into ingots or small bars, and the
Rolling
Room; but the process which interested me most was naturally the
Adjusting Room, in which seventy-five women sat before sensitive adjusting
assay
scales, in leather aprons, one end tacked to the table and fastened under
their arms to catch any gold that might fall. Each operator has a fine
flat file, and
takes a planchet from a pile by her side and puts it in the scales. The
work, though monotonous, looked easy, but much skill, I was told, is
required in filing
the coin to prevent waste or error. A number of women were also in the
Coining Room, in which were several coining presses, coining from 80 to
120
coins a minute. The ladies employed in the Mint are well cared for in many
directions, but their rate of payment can not be considered very high for
a
Government office, as it only amounts to a dollar and a half a day.
A great excitement has been caused here recently by the arrest of some
miscreants who were stealing bodies from Lebanon Cemetery for dissection
at
Jefferson Medical College. It appears that the horrible system of "body-snatching" is still being kept up,
and three doctors have been implicated and indicted through the action of
the Philadelphia Press, which has determined to put a stop to this
ghastly
business.
Until this year (1883) theatrical ventures have never been very successful
in this city; but during this season a decided change has set in, and all
the
theatres have flourished. Mrs. Langtry has attracted the largest audiences
ever known, in spite of the most cruelly severe newspaper criticisms I
ever
read on her private character and capabilities as an actress, though it
must, of course, be acknowledged that she challenged observation in both
directions. A year later I found Mr. Irving and Mr. Wyndham were dividing
the theatrical honours of Philadelphia between them, one being the novelty
of the
season, the other an established favourite throughout the States. It seemed quite strange to see
so many familiar English faces dotted about the hotel dining-room, and
the eager interchange of English newspapers was quite a feature of a "trip" in the elevator, in which some member of the English contingent was
sure to
be found between ten A.M. and six o'clock. Mr. Wyndham added not a little
to the pleasant week we spent at the Continental Hotel by sundry
pleasant breakfasts and dinners.
I was very pleased with the success achieved by the Women's Silk Culture
Association; after nearly three years' work it seems to have established
itself
on a permanent basis, and executes large orders for the reeling of silk
from the cocoon. Many pupils have attended the school and been taught the
process of hatching silkworm eggs and rearing insects, and then they have
gone into other cities to introduce the new enterprise, which promises to
prove an important
source of remunerative occupation in the United States. At first the
Association commenced without a properly constructed reel, but one has now
been
constructed of cast-iron, which produces excellent results, running off
four skeins of silk at one time the process only needing careful attention,
and being
easily acquired. Every energy is employed to develop this industry by the
planting of mulberry-trees, and great attention has been given to the
value of
Osage orange leaves as food for silkworms; and as these trees abound in
this country there is no necessity for deferring the raising of the
silkworm on
account of food. An interesting experiment was made lately in this
direction. Mrs. Van Dusen presented the Association with eighteen ounces
of
cocoons raised on Osage orange leaves, which were reeled into six and a
half ounces of silk, and Rossmasster and Itschner, the well-known
Philadelphia silk manufacturers, dyed it a beautiful crimson; and the
ribbon made from this silk was pronounced most satisfactory. Young ladies
are specially urged to learn the reeling, on the ground that it belongs to
the fine arts; and certainly many in Philadelphia are thus able to
support
themselves, and I was told of one who had started for Florida in order to
establish a school there, a relative having purchased land and planted
trees while
she was studying in this excellent institution in Chestnut Street. The
recent exhibition has given a great impetus to the work, the whole process
of
silk culture having been shown, from the egg, the tiny worm, the cocoon,
to the reeling and weaving of the beautiful fabric.
Many of my pleasant recollections of Philadelphia are due to the unfailing
courtesy of Mr. George W. Childs, the proprietor of the Ledger, who
invariably
entertains with princely hospitality the passing traveller. Mr. Childs is
naturally proud of the fact that he started in life without a dollar, and
with no friends
but his own untiring industry and stout heart. Today he is one of the
millionaires of America, and few have forwarded public enterprises or
aided
private charities with a more liberal hand.
The Ledger, a prosperous commercial journal, universally respected, is
published in a splendid printing office, built at a cost of half a million
of dollars.
Outside, at each corner, is a marble fountain, which furnishes water to
the thirsty wayfarer; within are not only well-ventilated rooms, but
baths have been
built in different parts of the office, which are much prized by the
printers. Everything moves like clockwork, the division of labour, from the
"printer's
devil" to the editor, being the result of the same masterly
discrimination which enabled the owner to amass his own enormous fortune. I was greatly
interested in Mr. Childs's plans for placing life insurances within the
reach of his employees, and the small houses and gardens his arrangements
enable
them to purchase for themselves, and finally their interest in a "burial
lot" which he has provided for the time when life's fitful fever is o'er.
Before Mr. Childs owned the Ledger it often contained the feeble,
heartless jokes usually indulged in at the expense of women in general,
and old maids
and mothers-in-law in particular. It is his boast that never since the day
it passed into his hands has a single innuendo even against a woman ever
appeared in it.
Mr. and Mrs. Childs spend a great part of the year at their lovely
country-place, "Wootton"; to this is attached a model farm, a source of
special interest to
Mrs. Childs, who herself supplied the plans of some of the farm-buildings,
thus securing a special kind of rural architecture which she thought best
suited
to their surroundings. The town residence in Walnut Street is full of Art
treasures of all kinds. Original manuscripts of books by Nathaniel
Hawthorne, Bryant, Lowell, Edgar A. Poe, James Fenimore Cooper, Bulwer's
Pilgrim's of the Rhine, Charles Dickens's Our Mutual Friend, and many
others. Here, too, is Lord Byron's writing-desk, and many rare and
valuable relics, together with autograph letters from most of the
distinguished men
and women of the age.
Although I knew Walt Whitman was living near Philadelphia, I was scarcely
prepared to find him the cherished guest in a Quaker family of the
strictest
total abstinence and anti-tobacco persuasion, or as the loved centre of a
group of admiring girls just fresh from college; and yet that was the
manner of
my introduction to the strange poet who has shocked the susceptibilities
of the English-speaking race by the freedom with which he has glorified
the body
and all that appertains to man's physical life. I shall, however, never
forget the delightful hours spent in the society of this most eccentric
genius. I
fancy Wait Whitman must resemble Socrates, with his grand, massive head,
his flowing white hair and shaggy beard, his open, Byronic collar adding
to
his weird but venerable appearance. He certainly follows the ancient
philosopher's lead by starting grave discussions, which are by no means
treated
from a surface point of view, and in which every one present is expected
to take a fair share. His young disciples, on the occasion in question,
were
nothing loth to contribute their quota. Young America does not sit at the
master's feet and worship; it has definite opinions, which it deems as
much
deserving of hearing as other people's, and it gives them forth with the
bold confidence born of youthful inexperience and immaturity. Many were
the
topics which arose that day during the prolonged dinner, and the able
arguments pro and con., one of the most brilliant contributors being Dr.
Buck, the
head of the Canadian State Insane Asylum; the subjects ranged from
ancient and modern religion, the morality of the old gods, to the battle
now raging in
the States respecting co-education.
Walt Whitman was also very anxious to impress upon me that the grand
receptions tendered in all large cities to distinguished English visitors
failed to
give any idea of the "purport" of this grand Republic. In Europe, he
admitted, the best flavour and significance of the race may be looked for
in its upper
classes; here, he declares, the rule is reversed, and the "pulse-beats of
the nation are never to be found in the
sure-to-be-put-forward-on-such-occasions-citizens!" In fact, what passes
current as "society" is to him "dangerously noisome and vapoury," while
inexhaustible supplies of true gold ore can be found in "America's general
humanity." New York, perhaps, promises something out of her tremendous
and varied material; but Boston, "with its bloodless Unitarianism and its
circle of mummies, its complacent vanity of scientism and literature, mere
grammatical correctness"—poor Boston gives Mr. Walt Whitman no satisfaction
whatever. "And look at Washington," he cried; "it is full of a sort of
high
life below stairs. No farce can be funnier than the crowds bowing before
our Presidents and their wives, the Cabinet officers and Senators—our
representatives born of good labouring, mechanic, or farm stock antecedents
attempting full-dress receptions, foreign ceremonies and etiquettes—it
is
ridiculous!" He was, however, somewhat quieted in his mind as to the
chances I had of coming to some right conclusion about his country when
he heard that my programme included visits to Colorado, Texas, and
California. He told me he was contemplating the publication of a poem as a
companion to "Leaves of Grass," based upon the experiences of old age. Dr. Buck is one of Walt Whitman's most ardent followers, and certainly
there is a personal magnetism about this rugged bard which makes itself
felt; and though he is sprung from what we may term "the people," he is
certainly
a cultured man. Walt Whitman is a deep thinker and an able talker; but
surely his truest friends must regret that he did not accept Emerson's
advice,
and use the pruning-knife freely before publishing his "Leaves of Grass."
No one can fully appreciate a cold or bronchial attack until he has
indulged in what America furnishes in this pleasing direction. It can be
safely backed for
severity and tenacity against our puny English attempts. For some time I
was obliged to avoid night air, and was therefore unable to be present at
a
charming entertainment Mr. and Mrs. Bellangee Cox gave at the Aldine Hotel
to Lord and
Lady Bury, who were then travelling through the country on a combined
pleasure and business trip—the latter having reference to certain railway
interests
in which Lord Bury and Mr. McHenry consider themselves badly used.
Philadelphia is a stronghold of the Woman's Temperance Union. The
president, Mrs. Hannah Smith, is a splendid woman, and keeps the great
organization under her control in thorough activity and order. The total
abstainers here are rigid in their condemnation of the use of alcohol, and
regard its
use at the Holy Communion as utterly unjustifiable. The following incident
may be cited in proof of this: A coffee-house was opened, and "an all-day prayer-meeting"
was the ceremony decided on to celebrate the
day. Ministers of various denominations were invited to lead the exercises
at
different hours. During the evening a Presbyterian joined the worshippers,
against whom a prejudice is entertained in extreme circles, because he
still
uses wine when administering the Sacrament in his own church. He delivered
an eloquent prayer on the curse of drink, and when he concluded a
Quaker lady rose with "a message from the Lord," which also took the
form of a prayer, in which she fervently pleaded that the minister might
cease to
dishonour God "by making the Lord's house smell like a grog-shop by placing
on the Lord's table the produce thereof." This will give some idea of the
feeling entertained respecting the use of wine under the most sacred
circumstances. But "the drink question" is undoubtedly forced upon all
here who
value health and sobriety, in a way it is hard for any English person to
realize who has not
travelled through the States. Moderation seems a difficult, if not an
unknown virtue in this direction, people are either extreme abstainers or
hard drinkers.
The light wines which with us have supplanted the fiery sherries and
full-bodied ports of our ancestors, are only used by Americans whose
tastes have
been cultivated by foreign travel; they would not be appreciated by the
general palate, and their cost is too high to admit of their general use.
Consequently, in the best hotels you see people daily sitting down to a
somewhat extensive dinner, but drinking with it only iced water, milk, or
the
weakest of tea. After dinner, unhappily, many of the gentlemen visit the
whisky bar, and, as the exhilarating nature of this climate renders
spirit-drinking more deadly than it is in England, no one who values the
welfare of others can be indifferent to the terrible evils which spring
from it. The
only question is—the best way to correct them. "Shut up the theatres, they are the hotbeds of vice," was the
cry of the old bigoted Puritan; but we are now beginning to see that the
Church and the Stage can work together for the moral elevation of the
people, and it may be that the introduction of light wines in the place of
these
intoxicating ardent spirits might be really more useful than the bitter
condemnation of all who do not join the ranks of the total abstinence
party.
The tropical warmth with which the liquor question is sometimes discussed,
has just given rise to a curious case of libel. The druggists have often
been
accused of dispensing "poison," and, with curious significance, they are
the sole dispensers of alcohol in many parts of America. A minister in
Oberlin, Ohio,
lately attacked in the course of his sermon a druggist who was known to
sell rum for "medicinal purposes," and said that when his guilty spirit
approached the gates of hell the shrieks of those he had destroyed should
pierce his ears "with hell's first welcome." The use of such intemperate
language
is greatly to be regretted, especially in the pulpit. But many ministers, from the Rev. Henry
Ward Beecher downwards, indulge in utterances which strike the
English ear as
peculiar. American preachers, as a rule, however, bring something more
than the dry husks of a dead theology into the pulpit; they do not,
perhaps, "vex
the dull ear of drowsy men" as often as some of their British brethren. If they "vex" them, it is more likely to be after the fashion of a
minister in Hebron,
who was so indignant with his congregation for their apathy, that, I was
told, he called them at a recent prayer-meeting "blockheads," and
complained that
there was no more expression in their faces than in "so many wooden heads"! Since this occurrence, I hear, "apathy" has given place to a
remarkably critical and attentive attitude, which is rendering the
reverend gentleman extremely uncomfortable.
The preacher was doubtless only experiencing what many speakers and actors
feel before an unresponsive audience. Mdlle. Rhea, when acting at Utica,
complained that the audience was as undemonstrative and cold as Arctic
ice. "How can I warm this assemblage?" she asked in despair; "it chills
me; it
seems as if I were playing to people far away. Nothing but dynamite will
stir such a house!"
Perhaps this coldness may account for the introduction of some startling
and unseeming novelties
into reform meetings of a serious character. They are certainly calculated
to arouse attention and evoke response. For instance, at a temperance
meeting
held in New York one Sunday afternoon in March, an actor was introduced to
give a representation of three stages of drunkenness and delirium
tremens.
I regret to hear this "created enthusiasm." Such an exhibition is quite
as distasteful to earnest workers in the temperance cause there, as a
recent
meeting of "saved drunkards" in Exeter Hall proved
to refined people here. All kinds of sensational stories were detailed by
the various speakers. One credited himself with every crime but murder"
with evident satisfaction. A Devonshire girl described with undisguised gusto the
life she had led before she joined the Salvation Army; then followed
speeches from people who gave their names as "Old Whisky," "The Tramp,"
"The Black Bishop," and the "Cockney Brandy-drinker,"—all describing themselves as
thieves, drunkards, wife-beaters, and guilty of other criminal offences. Such revolting exhibitions can only injure the cause they are supposed to
aid, and
should be discouraged in both countries.
Miss Frances Willard is one of the foremost and best temperance advocates
in America, and devotes her entire life in support of what she regards "as
the most vital question of the day."
Well-organized coffee-houses are essential aids to the temperance
movement, but they must rival the gin-palace in brilliancy, warmth, and
attraction. The
artisan requires a place where he is sure to find good substitutes for the
alcohol he is advised to relinquish; he wants cheerful rooms and pleasant
company; help,
not dictation or patronage, from people who are richer and more cultured
than himself, and he is entitled to a fair choice of healthy recreations. The
stagnation from which he suffers only needs to be stirred by a vigorous,
judicious hand, and healthy growths will
soon make their appearance. Those who try to provide good amusements for
the working classes, and cultivate a greater taste for music, art, and
literature, will more effectually empty the drinking saloons than any
prohibition or Act of Parliament. To warn people against dangerous
indulgences is but
to advertise them; the reformer's true wisdom lies in offering something
which shall compete in the open market with such seductive pleasures, and
thus
to win his fellow-creatures from drinking, gambling, debasing spectacles
and cruel sports. |