agricultural districts were in the main thoroughly tory, the farmers
being dependent on the landlords. He added that the late Lord Derby used
to say, “Tell me what the landlords are and I will tell you what the vote
will be.”
* * * * *
Haddenham cum Stonea has declined in population. In 1840 the parish
had nearly one thousand four hundred inhabitants. It now has about one
thousand. Many went to America; now many go north into the manufacturing
regions. Nor are these two villages alone in this. Jackson, the
carpenter, told me of one where he had lived which, at the last census,
had three hundred and thirty people. Twenty years back, he said, it had
over five hundred.
Public-houses are numerous in these villages. They are mostly simple
ale-houses, with such titles as the Three Horse-Shoes, the Rose and
Crown, the Three Jolly Butchers. I counted at least eleven in a village
of less than seven hundred people.
The wages of a farm-laborer here are under two dollars and seventy-five
cents a week, and he boards himself. The cottagers on the farm where I
boarded got their houses free and a rood of ground in which to plant
potatoes. While at Haddenham I visited a friend in a near village, who
took me to ride upon the fens, and her husband particularly desired
her to show me some cottages, or laborers’ houses, that he had built.
The point that I was especially to observe was the rooms provided for
sleeping, there being a bedroom down-stairs and two or more above. On
this subject I spoke to Mrs. Benton, the farmer’s wife, who said that the
laborers here have generally a kitchen, I believe a better room, and two
chambers. She admitted that the boys and girls have to sleep in the same
room.
Mrs. Benton said that if the laborer’s wife, who has a number of young
children, is kind and considerate of her husband, she will try to provide
him a bit of meat daily, but it will be but a little bit; and the
children will not taste meat oftener than once a week.
As I have before intimated, hours of labor are easy,—farm hands getting
half an hour for lunch, and an hour for dinner. (But I cannot say whether
this lunch-time is allowed at other than harvest.) In hay and harvest
they work overtime, and are paid for overwork.
Fruit-picking was going on while I was at Haddenham. In fruit-gathering
times, when the wives and boys get out a little, meat may be more
plentiful in laborers’ houses. There is a great press at fruit-gathering.
The people go out in gangs about six or seven o’clock, and return about
seven. The wages are about thirty-two cents a day. A market for the fruit
is furnished by the manufacturing regions, where farm produce is more
scarce.
At Haddenham I heard that after harvest they have a thanksgiving
festival. There is a village flower-show in the rectory grounds and a
public tea. They deck the church with wheat, barley, oats, beans, grapes,
apples, and pears, and have a service in the evening. A collection is
taken up for the county hospital, which is supported almost entirely by
voluntary subscription.
To return once more to education. It is now compulsory, as I have said;
but a friend estimated that of the people over thirty, a large proportion
could not read and write.
PECULIARITIES OF SPEECH.
To us that one by which the English drop the letter h where it belongs,
and put it on where it does not, is one of the most striking; as, Harable
land is ’eavier taxed; my huncle is not very ’ealthy.
Two ways of speaking that are called Yankee with us are found here; one
is the sharp _ou_.
“Please tell me,” I inquired, “where Mr. G.’s house is.”
“It’s the last hayoose in tayoon; a big hayoose,” answered the boy.
The other “Yankee” peculiarity is dropping the letter r. School-children
said ’osses for horses. Buttah was said for butter, and Hemmingford
sounded like Emmenfauld. A woman spoke of a certain Mr. Halbut. I had
thought that his name was Wiseman. Yes; Mr. Halbut (Albert) Wiseman.
Comin’ I heard for coming; they used to say shay-house for chaise-house;
and I am told that in Norfolk they say _du_ and _tu_ for do and to.
The carpenter’s wife said, “The bread is silly,” meaning heavy.
A spinney is a grove.
Laboring men call a lunch a dockey; and in another neighborhood a beaver.
Said an innkeeper, “The people come to flit them,”—to help them move.
Frequently “I dare say” becomes _dessay_, or _I’d say_.
We say to-day; they also say to-year. And when it begins to thaw, they
say the weather is ungiving, it ungives.
APPENDIX.
THE PENNSYLVANIA GERMAN DIALECT.
The “Pennsylvania Dutch,” which is spoken over a large portion of our
own State, and is also heard in Maryland, Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and
Illinois, is not divided into dialects as are the languages of many
European countries, but seems to be nearly homogeneous. The following
specimen was taken from the lips of a working-woman born in Cumberland
County, Pennsylvania, of German descent, but who learned most of her
“Dutch” in the State of Maryland. She now lives in Lancaster County,
Pennsylvania. An English article was read to her; and with some little
difficulty she turned it into the version given. This version was
submitted to a learned gentleman born in the eastern part of this State,
but now living in Lancaster, and he declared it to be a good specimen of
Pennsylvania German. I have abbreviated it, and give the English first,
so that the difficulty may be observed which the translator found in the
version.
“At Millville, New Jersey, about noon, while everybody in town was going
to dinner, a deer came dashing down through the main street, and right
behind it followed a dozen dogs, barking the loudest they knew how. Every
dog on the line of the chase joined in, so that when the edge of the town
was reached there were nearly fifty dogs after the deer. One solitary
horseman caught on to the procession before it left town, and he was soon
followed by a score of others, and inside of half an hour there were only
women and factory hands left in the town. The deer got into the woods and
escaped. A hound, which a merchant sent to Philadelphia for on Thursday,
brought the deer to bay, and the merchant’s son fired the fatal shot.”
“_An Millville, New Jersey, about Mitdog, wie all die Leit in der Stadt
zu Mittag gange sin, en Hayrsch is darrich die main Schtross schprunge,
und recht hinne noch ein dutzet Hund noch schprunge, und hen so laut
gejolt als sie hen könne. All die Hund in der Schtadt sind oof die
Geschpoor und sin noch; so wie sie an die End von der Schtadt sin der
ware about fufzig Hund am Hayrsch noch. Ein ehnzige Reiter ist noch
eh sie aus der Schtadt kumme sind und es ware gly zwanzig meh, und in
weniger als en Halb-stund da war Niemand meh in der Schtadt als Wipesleit
und die factory Hendt. Der Hayrsch ist in der Busch kumme und sie hen ihn
verlore. En Houns voo ein Merchant in Philadelphia geschickt hat dafore,
hat den Hayrsch schtill schteh mache; und der Merchant sei Sohn hat ihn
dote schosse._”
But although the Pennsylvania German is not divided into the great number
of dialects or varieties found in Europe (I hear that there are about
fifty in little Switzerland), yet there are differences here in the
spoken dialect. While visiting at the house of a gentleman born in Lehigh
County, but living in Lebanon, the following were pointed out to me. In
Lehigh a lantern is a _lutzer_; in Lebanon, _lattern_. In the former the
word for orchard is _boongart_; in the latter, _bomegarte_. Meadow is
_Schwamm_ in the former, and _Viss_ in the latter. The adverb _orrick_
(_arg_) is very much used in Pennsylvania German; but a clergyman coming
to live in Lebanon County was reproved by some of his plain friends for
its use. Perhaps it is nearly synonymous with our _darned_,—“That’s
darned cheap.” Der _Arge_ in the Bible is the evil one.
Mr. Weiser, of the Reformed Church, finds differences in adjoining
counties. Thus, in Berks a set of bars in a fence is _en Falder_; in
Montgomery, _E’fahrt_ (or a place to drive through). In Lehigh they say
of a drunken man, “_Er hat e Kischt ah_” (he carries a chest); but this
is not heard in the near parts of Montgomery. Tomatoes are sometimes, I
think, called _Goomeranze_ in Allentown, and in Bucks County _Boomeranze_
(from _Pomeranze_, an orange); but this is not heard in Lancaster County.
A learned German in Philadelphia says that several different dialects
have flowed like streams into Pennsylvania,—one the Palatinate, another
the Suabian, a third Allemanian, a fourth Swiss; and Prof. Dubbs, of
Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, but born in Allentown, finds
in the region with which he is familiar, east of the Susquehanna, three
plainly marked sub-dialects. The one east of the Schuylkill is marked
by the diminutive _chen_ in the place of _lein_. In that district a
little pig is called _Säuche_, and west of the Schuylkill _Säulie_
(for _Säulein_). A third sub-dialect, he says, is peculiar to some of
the sects of Lancaster County. It is probably of Swiss origin, and is
marked by a broad drawl. (The late Prof. Haldeman remarked that in our
dialect the perfect is used for the imperfect tense, as in Swiss; so that
for “ich sagte” (I said) we have “ich hab ksaat” (gesagt), and for “ich
hatte” (I had) we have “ich hab kat” (gehabt)).
(The following excellent remarks on the Pennsylvania dialect are taken
from an article in the _Mercersburg Review_ by Prof. Stahr, now also
of Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster. I have made some trifling
alterations, mostly in parenthesis.)
“It is of course impossible in our present limits to specify all the
peculiarities of Pennsylvania German, so as to give an adequate idea of
its form to those who are not familiar with it. We may, however, state a
few general principles, which will enable any one conversant with High
German to read and understand the dialect without difficulty. In the
first place it must be borne in mind that the letters have the _South
German_ sound: _a_ has the broad sound like the English _aw_; _st_ and
_sp_ whenever they occur sound broad, like _scht_ and _schp_, etc.
Secondly, letters are commuted or changed. Instead of the proper sound of
the modified vowel or _Umlaut ō_, we find the sound of the German _ē_ or
the English _ā_, and instead of _ü_ we find _ie_ or _i_, equivalent to
the English _i_ in _machine_, or the same shortened as in pin. Instead
of the proper sound of _eu_, we have the German _ei_ or the English
_ī_. Instead of _au_, particularly when it undergoes modification in
inflections, we have broad _a_ or _aa_ in the unmodified, and _ä_ or _āā_
in the modified, form. Thus we have _Baam_ for _Baum_, and _Bääm’_ for
_Baüme_; _laafe’_ for _laufen_, and _laaft_ or _lääft_ for _laüft_. The
diphthong ei is often changed into long _e_ or _ee_. Thus for _Stein_ we
have _Stee’_ (pronounced Shtay), for _Bein_, _Bee’_, for _Eid_ we have
_Eed_, for _Leid_, _Leed_. _A_ is often changed into _o_, as _Johr_ for
_Jahr_, _Hoor_ for _Haar_; _i_ is changed into _e_, as _werd_ for _wird_
(_Es wird Schlimm_ is spoken _Schvate schlimm_), _Hert_ for _Hirt_, etc.
Consonants are also frequently changed; _b_ into _w_ (_Bievel_ is heard
for Bibel), _p_ into _b_, _t_ into _d_, etc. Thirdly, words are shortened
by dropping the terminations, especially _n_ of the infinitive or
generally after _e_. Prefixes are frequently contracted, so also compound
words. Thus instead of _werden_, _folgen_, _fangen_, we have _werre’_,
_folge’_, _fange’_; _einmal_ becomes _emol_; _nicht mehr_, _nimme_, etc.
Fourthly, the Pennsylvania dialect uses High German words in a different
sense. Thus for _Pferd_, horse, we have _Gaul_, which in High German
means a heavy farm-horse or an old horse; _gleiche_, from the High German
_gleichen_, to resemble, means in the Pennsylvania dialect, to like;
_gucke’_, from High German _gucken_, to peep, to pry, means to look.
Finally, we find English words introduced in their full form, either with
or without German prefixes and modifications; e.g., _Store_ (Schtore),
_Rüles_, _Cäpers_, _Circumstänces_, _trävele_, _stärte_, _fixe_, _fighte_.
“Nouns have scarcely any changes of form, except to distinguish singular
and plural. These, where they exist, are the same as in High German. One
of the most striking peculiarities is this: the genitive case is never
used to indicate possession, the dative is used in connection with a
possessive pronoun. Thus instead of _Der Hut des Mannes_ (the hat of the
man) we find _Dem Mann sei’ Hut_ (to the man his hat).... The definite
article is used for _dieser_, _diese_, _dieses_ (this), and _seller_,
_selle_, _sell_, for _jener_, _jene_, _jenes_ (that). The adverb _wo_ is
used instead of the relatives _welcher_, _welche_, _welches_.
“In inflecting pronouns, _mir_ is used instead of _wir_ (us). The verb
has no imperfect tense; the perfect is always used for it in Pennsylvania
German. (And it will be observed, I think, that those accustomed to
speaking the dialect will use the perfect thus in English.)
“From _wollen_ we have: _Ich will_, _du witt_, _er will_, _mir wolle’_,
_ihr wolle’_, _sie wolle’_; and from _haben_: _Ich hab_, _du hoscht_, _er
hot_, _mir hen_ (from han, haben), _ihr hen_, _sie hen_.”
* * * * *
The number of writers in the dialect is becoming numerous. There are
Mr. Zimmermann and Dr. Bruner, of Berks County, Rev. F. J. F. Schantz,
originally of Lehigh, and Rev. Eli Keller and Mr. Henninger of the same;
also Miss Bahn and Mr. H. L. Fisher, of York County. The most popular
writer is the late Henry Harbaugh, of the Reformed Church, whose poems
are collected under the title _Harbaugh’s Harfe_. Among them the favorite
is _Das alt Schulhaus an der Krick_. (The old school-house on the creek.)
In publishing this volume, the English words introduced after the manner
of our Pennsylvania Germans have been generally replaced by German, so
that it is not a perfect specimen of the spoken language. Here follow a
few lines from Harbaugh’s _Heimweh_, or Homesickness:
“Wie gleich ich selle Babble-Beem!
Sie schtehn wie Brieder dar;
Un uf’m Gippel—g’wiss ich leb!
Hock’t alleweil ’n Schtaar!
’S Gippel biegt sich—guk, wie’s gaunscht,
’R hebt sich awer fescht;
Ich seh sei rothe Fliegle plehn
Wann er sei Feddere wescht;
Will wette, dass sei Fraale hot
Uf sellem Baam ’n Nescht.”
How well I love those poplar-trees,
That stand like brothers there!
And on the top, as sure’s I live,
A blackbird perches now.
The top is bending, how it swings!
But still the bird holds fast.
How plain I saw his scarlet wings
When he his feathers dressed!
I’ll bet you on that very tree
His deary has a nest.
The most witty prose articles that I have met are some in Wollenweber’s
_Gemälde aus dem Pennsylvanischen Volkleben_. (Pictures of Pennsylvania
Life.)
Mr. E. H. Rauch (Pit Schwefflebrenner) accommodates himself to the great
number of our “Dutch” people who do not read German by writing the
dialect phonetically, in this manner: “_Der klea meant mer awer, sei
net recht g’sund for er kreisht ols so greisel-heftict orrick (arg) in
der nacht. De olt Lawbucksy behawpt es is was mer aw gewocksa heast, un
meant mer set braucha derfore. Se sawya es waer an olty fraw drivva im
Lodwaerrickshteddle de kennt’s aw wocksa ferdreiv mit warta, im aw so a
g’schmeer hut was se mocht mit gensfet._” (The little one seems to me
not to be quite well, for he cries so dreadfully in the night. Old Mrs.
Lawbucks maintains that he is what we call grown (enlargement of the
liver), and thinks that I should powwow for it. She says that there was
an old woman in Apple-butter town who knew how to drive away the growth
with words, and who has too an ointment that she makes with goose-fat.)
I have already stated that our Pennsylvania dialect has been thought to
be formed from different European sources; but Mr. H. L. Fisher, of York,
has lately shown me a collection of Nadler’s poems in the Palatinate
dialect, which, he says, more nearly resemble our idiom than anything
else which he has seen. Also at Allentown, Mr. Dubbs, of the Reformed
Church, has mentioned a collection which he thinks resembles much our
Pennsylvania German. It is the poems of Ludwig Schandein, in the Westrich
dialect. These are both dialects of the Rhenish Palatinate, the former of
the district on the Rhine, the latter of the western or more mountainous
part. And as the Germans coming into Pennsylvania were at one time called
Palatines, it is not remarkable that these Palatinate dialects resemble
ours. Here is a specimen of the eastern or lowland dialect:
“Yetz erscht waasz i’s, yetz erscht glaaw i’s,
Was mar in de Lieder singt;
Yetz erscht glaaw i’s, dann jetz waasz i’s,
Dasz die Lieb aam Schmerze bringt.
“Nachdigalle dhune schlage,
Dasz ’s dorch Berg un Dhäler klingt;
Unser Bawrebuwe awwer
Dasz aam’s Herz im Leib verschpringt!”
At last I know, at last believe it,
That what our poets sing is so;
At last I think, yes, now I know it,
That love brings also pain and woe.
The nightingales so sweetly warble,
Their notes through hill and dale do ring;
But oh! the heart in the breast is riven
Whene’er our peasant boys do sing!
Here is a specimen from Schandein’s poems in the Westrich dialect:
“So lewe wul, ehr liewe Alte,
Do i’s mei’ Hann, Glick uf die Rês!
De’ liewe Herrgott losze walte,
Dann Er es wul am beschte wêsz;
Un machen euch kê’ Gram und Sorje
Ya denken an ihn alle Dah:
Er sorgt jo heut, er sorgt ah morje,
Er sorgt ah in Amerika.”
Dr. Dubbs, of Franklin and Marshall College, has kindly given me this
verse from his own translation:
“Farewell! and here’s my hand, old neighbors!
May blessings on your journey rest!
Leave God to order all the future,
For He alone knows what is best.
And do not yield to grief or sorrow,
Trust in His mercy day by day;
He reigns to-day, he reigns to-morrow,
He reigns too in America.”
Various estimates have been given me of the numbers speaking the dialect
in different parts of our State. Thus a lawyer in York County, beyond
the Susquehanna, says that there are still witnesses coming to court,
natives of the county, who do not speak English, and whose testimony
is translated by an interpreter. Crossing the Susquehanna easterly,
we come to my own county, Lancaster. My own neighborhood, near the
Pennsylvania Central Railway, is much Anglicized. The southern part
of the county is greatly “English,” but as I was riding lately in the
north, on the railway which connects Reading in Berks, to Columbia in
Lancaster, a conductor estimated that along the forty-six miles of the
railway about nine out of ten of the travellers can speak German. In
Reading I am told in a lawyer’s office that three-fourths of the women
who come in to do business speak “Pennsylvania Dutch.” My tavern-keeper
says that many come to his house, born in the county, who cannot speak
English. Another lawyer estimates that of the country people born in
Berks County, three-fourths would rather speak Pennsylvania German than
English; and another thinks that in the rural districts of the county
from one-half to two-thirds prefer to speak the dialect, although perhaps
half of these can talk English. Another person says that when there is
a circus or county fair at Reading, which draws the farmers’ families,
you hardly hear English, for the store-keepers accommodate themselves to
the visitors. One of my friends, born in Germany, says that she saw at
a forge in Berks County colored people, men, women, and children, that
could not speak English; they spoke Pennsylvania German. If, now, we
pass northerly to Lehigh County, we come to “Pennsylvania Dutch” land
par _excellence_, for in no other county of our State are the people so
nearly of unmixed German origin. I am told of Allentown, the county seat,
with a population of about nineteen thousand, that Pennsylvania German,
“Dutch,” is the prevailing language. A lawyer estimates that more than
one-fourth of its inhabitants do not speak English if they can help it,
and a considerable number in town, born in this region, do not speak
English at all. Of the county, a physician says that three-fourths of the
people speak Pennsylvania German more easily than English, and another
that nearly all the country people would rather speak the dialect.
East of Lehigh lies another very German county, Northampton. The county
town Easton is, however, connected with New Jersey by a bridge over the
Delaware, and Easton is to a very considerable degree Anglicized. Easton
is the seat of a great Presbyterian institution, Lafayette College; yet
a professor tells me that the Presbyterian Church cannot overcome the
Lutheran and Reformed element. The Lutheran Church, he says, is very
strong. Of the same county I was told some years ago that the people
generally spoke German, except along the New Jersey line, and that
outside of Easton and Bethlehem three-fourths of the people are Reformed
and Lutheran. At the same period, about nine years ago, a physician told
me that the public-school teachers in the rural parts must necessarily
speak German for the children to obtain ideas, or must interpret English
to them. These counties, with Lebanon, six in number, are the great
German ones, beginning with York on the southwest, and ending with
Northampton on the northeast; but the Pennsylvania German population is
by no means confined to these counties. It spreads along the cultivated
soil like grass. Adjoining Berks and Lehigh is Montgomery, the northern
part of which is very “Dutch.” Here I visited a preacher of one of our
plain sects, whose great-grandfather came from Germany. But he, himself,
speaks very little or no English, and he employed the ticket-agent to
answer an English letter. One son and his children live under the same
roof, making six generations in Pennsylvania; but the whole household
uses the German dialect.
It must not be supposed of a large part of the Pennsylvania Germans that
they are unacquainted with pure German. A simple and pure German they
find in the Bible and in their German newspapers, of which there are
several, altogether enjoying a large circulation. Also, at least in the
Reformed and Lutheran Churches, there are many ministers who preach in
pure German. Yet, when the minister goes to dine with a parishioner, they
generally speak the dialect. The minister who speaks this to his flock
is more popular. They could understand the higher German; but they say
of him when he speaks the dialect, “_Er iss en gemehner Mann_” (He is a
common, plain man, or one who doesn’t put on airs.)
A gentleman in Lebanon, born in Berks, told me that he should be pleased
to speak German as it is in the Bible. “But,” he added, “as soon as
a person begins to use pure German here among his acquaintances the
Pennsylvania Dutch will say, ‘_Des iss ane Fratz-Hans_,’ or a high-flown
fellow; or, as it may be rendered, ‘He’s full of conceit.’”
One of the most amusing things in the dialect is the adopting and
transforming of English words, as “Ich habe en Prediger _entgetscht_,”—I
have engaged a preacher; “Do hat der _Eirisch_ gemehnt er wott
_triede_,”—the Irishman thought he would treat; “Sie henn en guter
_Tietscher_ katt, der hot die Kinner vieler Leut _getietscht_,”—they had
a good teacher, who taught the children of many people; “Ich will dir’s
_exsplehne_,”—I will explain it to you; “Er hat mich _inweitet_,”—he
invited me; “Do hen sie anfange _ufzukotte_ und zu lache,”—then they
began to cut up and laugh. A workman who was tired of waiting for
material said, “Sie hen us nau lang genug ’rum _gebaffelt_”—they have
baffled or disappointed us long enough.
On the amount of English that is sometimes introduced into the dialect,
a lawyer in Lebanon says that of the Pennsylvania Dutch which he uses in
his political speeches, or in his practice, fully one-third is English.
This specimen was given to me by a lawyer in Allentown, as the opening of
a political speech: “Ich bin desirous um euch zu explaine die prerogative
powers fum President.” And this a lawyer to his client: “Ich bin certain
das die Opinion was ich den morge geexpress hab, correct war.”
Before leaving the subject of the idiom, I give some of the peculiar
expressions heard in speaking English. A neighbor told me of her
daughter’s being invited to a picnic, and added, “I don’t know what I’ll
wear on her.”