Francis Hopkinson, 1737-1791. He was the son of an Englishman; born in
Philadelphia, and was educated at the college of that city, now the
University of Pennsylvania. He represented New Jersey in the Congress of
1776, and was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He
was one of the most sensible and elegant writers of his time, and
distinguished himself both in prose and verse. His lighter writings abound
in humor and keen satire; his more solid writings are marked by clearness
and good sense. His pen did much to forward the cause of American
independence. His "Essay on Whitewashing," from which the following
extract is taken, was mistaken for the composition of Dr. Franklin, and
published among his writings, It was originally in the form of "A Letter
from a Gentleman in America to his Friend in Europe, on Whitewashing."
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There is no season of the year in which the lady may not, if she pleases,
claim her privilege; but the latter end of May is generally fixed upon for
the purpose. The attentive husband may judge, by certain prognostics, when
the storm is at hand. If the lady grows uncommonly fretful, finds fault
with the servants, is discontented with the children, and complains much
of the nastiness of everything about her, these are symptoms which ought
not to be neglected, yet they sometimes go off without any further effect.
But if, when the husband rises in the morning, he should observe in the
yard a wheelbarrow with a quantity of lime in it, or should see certain
buckets filled with a solution of lime in water, there is no time for
hesitation. He immediately locks up the apartment or closet where his
papers and private property are kept, and, putting the key into his
pocket, betakes himself to flight. A husband, however beloved, becomes a
perfect nuisance during this season of female rage. His authority is
superseded, his commission suspended, and the very scullion who cleans the
brasses in the kitchen becomes of more importance than he. He has nothing
for it but to abdicate for a time, and run from an evil which he can
neither prevent nor mollify.
The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The walls are stripped of their
furniture--paintings, prints, and looking-glasses lie huddled in heaps
about the floors; the curtains are torn from their testers, the beds
crammed into windows, chairs and tables, bedsteads and cradles, crowd the
yard, and the garden fence bends beneath the weight of carpets, blankets,
cloth cloaks, old coats, under petticoats, and ragged breeches. Here may
be seen the lumber of the kitchen, forming a dark and confused mass for
the foreground of the picture; gridirons and frying pans, rusty shovels
and broken tongs, joint stools, and the fractured remains of rush-bottomed
chairs. There a closet has disgorged its bowels--riveted plates and
dishes, halves of china bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wineglasses,
phials of forgotten physic, papers of unknown powders, seeds and dried
herbs, tops of teapots, and stoppers of departed decanters--from the rag
hole in the garret, to the rat hole in the cellar, no place escapes
unrummaged. It would seem as if the day of general doom had come, and the
utensils of the house were dragged forth to judgment.
In this tempest, the words of King Lear unavoidably present themselves,
and might, with little alteration, be made strictly applicable.
"Let the great gods,
That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
That hast within thee undivulged crimes
Unwhipp'd of justice.
Close pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents, and cry
These dreadful summoners grace."
This ceremony completed, and the house thoroughly evacuated, the next
operation is to smear the walls and ceilings with brushes dipped into a
solution of lime, called whitewash; to pour buckets of water over every
floor; and scratch all the partitions and wainscots with hard brushes,
charged with soft soap and stonecutters' sand.
The windows by no means escape the general deluge. A servant scrambles out
upon the penthouse, at the risk of her neck, and, with a mug in her hand
and a bucket within reach, dashes innumerable gallons of water against the
glass panes, to the great annoyance of passengers in the street.
I have been told that an action at law was once brought against one of
these water nymphs, by a person who had a new suit of clothes spoiled by
this operation: but after long argument, it was determined that no damages
could be awarded; inasmuch as the defendant was in the exercise of a legal
right, and not answerable for the consequences. And so the poor gentleman
was doubly non-suited; for he lost both his suit of clothes and his suit
at law.
These smearings and scratchings, these washings and dashings, being duly
performed, the next ceremonial is to cleanse and replace the distracted
furniture. You may have seen a house raising, or a ship launch--
recollect, if you can, the hurry, bustle, confusion, and noise of such a
scene, and you will have some idea of this cleansing match. The misfortune
is, that the sole object is to make things clean. It matters not how many
useful, ornamental, or valuable articles suffer mutilation or death under
the operation. A mahogany chair and a carved frame undergo the same
discipline; they are to be made clean at all events; but their
preservation is not worthy of attention.
For instance: a fine large engraving is laid flat upon the floor; a number
of smaller prints are piled upon it, until the superincumbent weight
cracks the lower glass--but this is of no importance. A valuable picture
is placed leaning against the sharp corner of a table; others are made to
lean against that, till the pressure of the whole forces the corner of the
table through the canvas of the first. The frame and glass of a fine print
are to be cleaned; the spirit and oil used on this occasion are suffered
to leak through and deface the engraving--no matter. If the glass is clean
and the frame shines, it is sufficient--the rest is not worthy of
consideration. An able arithmetician hath made a calculation, founded on
long experience, and proved that the losses and destruction incident to
two white washings are equal to one removal, and three removals equal to
one fire.
This cleansing frolic over, matters begin to resume their pristine
appearance: the storm abates, and all would be well again; but it is
impossible that so great a convulsion in so small a community should pass
over without producing some consequences. For two or three weeks after the
operation, the family are usually afflicted with sore eyes, sore throats,
or severe colds, occasioned by exhalations from wet floors and damp walls.
I know a gentleman here who is fond of accounting for everything in a
philosophical way. He considers this, what I call a custom, as a real
periodical disease peculiar to the climate. His train of reasoning is
whimsical and ingenious, but I am not at leisure to give you the detail.
The result was, that he found the distemper to be incurable; but after
much study, he thought he had discovered a method to divert the evil he
could not subdue. For this purpose, he caused a small building, about
twelve feet square, to be erected in his garden, and furnished with some
ordinary chairs and tables, and a few prints of the cheapest sort. His
hope was, that when the whitewashing frenzy seized the females of his
family, they might repair to this apartment, and scrub, and scour, and
smear to their hearts' content; and so spend the violence of the disease
in this outpost, whilst he enjoyed himself in quiet at headquarters. But
the experiment did not answer his expectation. It was impossible it
should, since a principal part of the gratification consists in the lady's
having an uncontrolled right to torment her husband at least once in every
year; to turn him out of doors, and take the reins of government into her
own hands.
There is a much better contrivance than this of the philosopher's; which
is, to cover the walls of the house with paper. This is generally done.
And though it does not abolish, it at least shortens the period of female
dominion. This paper is decorated with various fancies; and made so
ornamental that the women have admitted the fashion without perceiving the
design.
There is also another alleviation to the husband's distress. He generally
has the sole use of a small room or closet for his books and papers, the
key of which he is allowed to keep. This is considered as a privileged
place, even in the whitewashing season, and stands like the land of Goshen
amidst the plagues of Egypt. But then he must be extremely cautious, and
ever upon his guard; for, should he inadvertently go abroad and leave the
key in his door, the housemaid, who is always on the watch for such an
opportunity, immediately enters in triumph with buckets, brooms, and
brushes--takes possession of the premises, and forthwith puts an his books
and papers "to rights," to his utter confusion, and sometimes serious
detriment.
Notes.--Lear.--The reference is to Shakespeare's tragedy, Act III, Scene
2.
Goshen.--The portion of Egypt settled by Jacob and his family. In the
Bible, Exodus viii, 22, Goshen was exempted from the plague of the flies.
The teacher should ascertain that the pupils note the satire and humor of
this selection.
This letter was written about a hundred years ago. What word in the first
paragraph that would probably not be used by an elegant writer of the
present day? Note the words that indicate changes in domestic customs;
such as testers, joint stools, wainscots, house raising.