I stood one day before an assembly of four hundred pupils of a

colored college—called a college, but with a necessary preparatory

department—children and well-grown young women and men. The buildings

are fine, spacious, not inferior to the best modern educational

buildings either in architectural appearance or in interior furnishing,

with scientific apparatus, a library, the appliances approved by recent

experience in teaching, with admirable methods and discipline, and an

accomplished corps of instructors. The scholars were neat, orderly,

intelligent in appearance. As I stood for a moment or two looking at

their bright expectant faces the profound significance of the spectacle

and the situation came over me, and I said: “I wonder if you know what

you are doing, if you realize what this means. Here you are in a school

the equal of any of its grade in the land, with better methods of

instruction than prevailed anywhere when I was a boy, with the gates of

all knowledge opened as freely to you as to any youth in the land—here,

in this State, where only about twenty years ago it was a misdemeanor,

punishable with fine and imprisonment, to teach a colored person to read

and write. And I am brought here to see this fine school, as one of the

best things he can show me in the city, by a Confederate colonel. Not in

all history is there any instance of a change like this in a quarter

of a century: no, not in one nor in two hundred years. It seems

incredible.”

This is one of the schools instituted and sustained by Northern friends

of the South; but while it exhibits the capacity of the colored people

for education, it is not so significant in the view we are now taking

of the New South as the public schools. Indeed, next to the amazing

industrial change in the South, nothing is so striking as the interest

and progress in the matter of public schools. In all the cities we

visited the people were enthusiastic about their common schools. It was

a common remark, “I suppose we have one of the best school systems in

the country.” There is a wholesome rivalry to have the best. We found

everywhere the graded system and the newest methods of teaching in

vogue. In many of the primary rooms in both white and colored schools,

when I asked if these little children knew the alphabet when they came

to school, the reply was, “Not generally we prefer they should not;

we use the new method of teaching words.” In many schools the youngest

pupils were taught to read music by sight, and to understand its

notation by exercises on the blackboard. In the higher classes

generally, the instruction in arithmetic, in reading, In geography, in

history, and in literature was wholly in the modern method. In some of

the geography classes and in the language classes I was reminded of the

drill in the German schools. In all the cities, as far as I could learn,

the public money was equally distributed to the colored and to the white

schools, and the number of schools bore a just proportion to the number

of the two races. When the town was equally divided in population, the

number of pupils in the colored schools was about the same as the number

in the white schools. There was this exception: though provision was

made for a high-school to terminate the graded for both colors, the

number in the colored high-school department was usually very small;

and the reason given by colored and white teachers was that the colored

children had not yet worked up to it. The colored people prefer teachers

of their own race, and they are quite generally employed; but many of

the colored schools have white teachers, and generally, I think, with

better results, although I saw many thoroughly good colored teachers,

and one or two colored classes under them that compared favorably with

any white classes of the same grade.

The great fact, however, is that the common-school system has become

a part of Southern life, is everywhere accepted as a necessity, and

usually money is freely voted to sustain it. But practically, as an

efficient factor in civilization, the system is yet undeveloped in the

country districts. I can only speak from personal observation of the

cities, but the universal testimony was that the common schools in the

country for both whites and blacks are poor. Three months’ schooling in

the year is about the rule, and that of a slack and inferior sort, under

incompetent teachers. In some places the colored people complain that

ignorant teachers are put over them, who are chosen simply on political

considerations. More than one respectable colored man told me that he

would not send his children to such schools, but combined with a few

others to get them private instruction. The colored people are more

dependent on public schools than the whites, for while there are vast

masses of colored people in city and country who have neither the money

nor the disposition to sustain schools, in all the large places the

whites are able to have excellent private schools, and do have them.

Scarcely anywhere can the colored people as yet have a private school

without white aid from somewhere. At the present rate of progress,

and even of the increase of tax-paying ability, it must be a long time

before the ignorant masses, white and black, in the country districts,

scattered over a wide area, can have public schools at all efficient.

The necessity is great. The danger to the State of ignorance is more and

more apprehended; and it is upon this that many of the best men of

the South base their urgent appeal for temporary aid from the Federal

Government for public schools. It is seen that a State cannot soundly

prosper unless its laborers are to some degree intelligent. This opinion

is shown in little things. One of the great planters of the Yazoo Delta

told me that he used to have no end of trouble in settling with his

hands. But now that numbers of them can read and cipher, and explain the

accounts to the others, lie never has the least trouble.

One cannot speak too highly of the private schools in the South,

especially of those for young women. I do not know what they were before

the war, probably mainly devoted to “accomplishments,” as most of girls’

schools in the North were. Now most of them are wider in range, thorough

in discipline, excellent in all the modern methods. Some of them, under

accomplished women, are entirely in line with the best in the country.

Before leaving this general subject of education, it is necessary to

say that the advisability of industrial training, as supplementary to

book-learning, is growing in favor, and that in some colored schools it

is tried with good results.

When we come to the New Industrial South the change is marvellous, and

so vast and various that I scarcely know where to begin in a short

paper that cannot go much into details. Instead of a South devoted

to agriculture and politics, we find a South wide awake to business,

excited and even astonished at the development of its own immense

resources in metals, marbles, coal, timber, fertilizers, eagerly laying

lines of communication, rapidly opening mines, building furnaces,

founderies, and all sorts of shops for utilizing the native riches. It

is like the discovery of a new world. When the Northerner finds great

founderies in Virginia using only (with slight exceptions) the products

of Virginia iron and coal mines; when he finds Alabama and Tennessee

making iron so good and so cheap that it finds ready market in

Pennsylvania, and founderies multiplying near the great furnaces for

supplying Northern markets; when he finds cotton-mills running to full

capacity on grades of cheap cottons universally in demand throughout the

South and South-west; when he finds small industries, such as paper-box

factories and wooden bucket and tub factories, sending all they can make

into the North and widely over the West; when he sees the loads of most

beautiful marbles shipped North; when he learns that some of the largest

and most important engines and mill machinery were made in Southern

shops; when he finds in Richmond a “pole locomotive,” made to run on

logs laid end to end, and drag out from Michigan forests and Southern

swamps lumber hitherto inaccessible; when he sees worn-out highlands

in Georgia and Carolina bear more cotton than ever before by help of a

fertilizer the base of which is the cotton-seed itself (worth more as

a fertilizer than it was before the oil was extracted from it); when

he sees a multitude of small shops giving employment to men, women, and

children who never had any work of that sort to do before; and when he

sees Roanoke iron cast in Richmond into car-irons, and returned to a

car-factory in Roanoke which last year sold three hundred cars to the

New York and New England Railroad—he begins to open his eyes. The South

is manufacturing a great variety of things needed in the house, on the

farm, and in the shops, for home consumption, and already sends to the

North and West several manufactured products. With iron, coal, timber

contiguous and easily obtained, the amount sent out is certain to

increase as the labor becomes more skilful. The most striking industrial

development today is in iron, coal, lumber, and marbles; the more

encouraging for the self-sustaining life of the Southern people is the

multiplication of small industries in nearly every city I visited.

When I have been asked what impressed me most in this hasty tour, I have

always said that the most notable thing was that everybody was at work.

In many cities this was literally true: every man, woman, and child

was actively employed, and in most there were fewer idlers than in many

Northern towns. There are, of course, slow places, antiquated methods,

easy-going ways, a-hundred-years-behind-the-time makeshifts, but the

spirit in all the centres, and leavening the whole country, is work.

Perhaps the greatest revolution of all in Southern sentiment is in

regard to the dignity of labor. Labor is honorable, made so by the

example of the best in the land. There are, no doubt, fossils or

Bourbons, sitting in the midst of the ruins of their estates, martyrs

to an ancient pride; but usually the leaders in business and enterprise

bear names well known in politics and society. The nonsense that it is

beneath the dignity of any man or woman to work for a living is pretty

much eliminated from the Southern mind. It still remains true that the

Anglo-Saxon type is prevalent in the South; but in all the cities the

business sign-boards show that the enterprising Hebrew is increasingly

prominent as merchant and trader, and he is becoming a plantation owner

as well.

It cannot be too strongly impressed upon the public mind that the South,

to use a comprehensible phrase, “has joined the procession.” Its mind is

turned to the development of its resources, to business, to enterprise,

to education, to economic problems; it is marching with the North in the

same purpose of wealth by industry. It is true that the railways,

mines, and furnaces could not have been without enormous investments of

Northern capital, but I was continually surprised to find so many and

important local industries the result solely of home capital, made and

saved since the war.

In this industrial change, in the growth of manufactures, the Southern

people are necessarily divided on the national economic problems.

Speaking of it purely from the side of political economy and not of

politics, great sections of the South—whole States, in fact—are becoming

more in favor of “protection” every day. All theories aside, whenever

a man begins to work up the raw material at hand into manufactured

articles for the market, he thinks that the revenue should be so

adjusted as to help and not to hinder him.

Underlying everything else is the negro problem. It is the most

difficult ever given to a people to solve.

It must, under our Constitution, be left to the States concerned, and

there is a general hopefulness that time and patience will solve it to

the advantage of both races. The negro is generally regarded as the

best laborer in the world, and there is generally goodwill towards him,

desire that he shall be educated and become thrifty. The negro has more

confidence now than formerly in the white man, and he will go to him for

aid and advice in everything except politics. Again and again colored

men said to me, “If anybody tells you that any considerable number of

colored men are Democrats, don’t you believe him; it is not so.” The

philanthropist who goes South will find many things to encourage

him, but if he knows the colored people thoroughly, he will lose many

illusions. But to speak of things hopeful, the progress in education, in

industry, in ability to earn money, is extraordinary—much greater than

ought to have been expected in twenty years even by their most sanguine

friends, and it is greater now than at any other period. They are

generally well paid, according to the class of work they do. Usually I

found the same wages for the same class of work as whites received. I

cannot say how this is in remote country districts. The treatment of

laborers depends, I have no doubt, as elsewhere, upon the nature of the

employer. In some districts I heard that the negroes never got out of

debt, never could lay up anything, and were in a very bad condition. But

on some plantations certainly, and generally in the cities, there is an

improvement in thrift shown in the ownership of bits of land and houses,

and in the possession of neat and pretty homes. As to morals, the gain

is slower, but it is discernible, and exhibited in a growing public

opinion against immorality and lax family relations. He is no friend to

the colored people who blinks this subject, and does not plainly say

to them that their position as citizens in the enjoyment of all civil

rights depends quite as much upon their personal virtue and their

acquiring habits of thrift as it does upon school privileges.

I had many interesting talks with representative colored men in

different sections. While it is undoubtedly true that more are

indifferent to politics than formerly, owing to causes already named and

to the unfulfilled promises of wheedling politicians, it would be untrue

to say that there is not great soreness over the present situation.

At Nashville I had an interview with eight or ten of the best colored

citizens, men of all shades of color. One of them was a trusted clerk in

the post-office; another was a mail agent, who had saved money, and

made more by an investment in Birmingham; another was a lawyer of good

practice in the courts, a man of decided refinement and cultivation;

another was at the head of one of the leading transportation lines in

the city, and another had the largest provision establishment in town,

and both were men of considerable property; and another, a slave when

the war ended, was a large furniture dealer, and reputed worth a hundred

thousand dollars. They were all solid, sensible business men, and all

respected as citizens. They talked most intelligently of politics, and

freely about social conditions. In regard to voting in Tennessee

there was little to complain of; but in regard to Mississippi, as an

illustration, it was an outrage that the dominant party had increased

power in Congress and in the election of President, while the colored

Republican vote did not count. What could they do? Some said that

probably nothing could be done; time must be left to cure the wrong.

Others wanted the Federal Government to interfere, at least to the

extent of making a test case on some member of Congress that his

election was illegal. They did not think that need excite anew any race

prejudice. As to exciting race and sectional agitation, we discussed

this question: whether the present marvellous improvement of the colored

people, with general good-will, or at least a truce everywhere, would

not be hindered by anything like a race or class agitation; that is to

say, whether under the present conditions of education and thrift the

colored people (whatever injustice they felt) were not going on faster

towards the realization of all they wanted than would be possible under

any circumstances of adverse agitation. As a matter of policy most of

them assented to this. I put this question: “In the first reconstruction

days, how many colored men were there in the State of Mississippi fitted

either by knowledge of letters, law, political economy, history, or

politics to make laws for the State?” Very few. Well then, it was

unfortunate that they should have attempted it. There are more to-day,

and with education and the accumulation of property the number will

constantly increase. In a republic, power usually goes with intelligence

and property.

Finally I asked this intelligent company, every man of which stood upon

his own ability in perfect self-respect, “What do you want here in the

way of civil rights that you have not?” The reply from one was that he

got the respect of the whites just as he was able to command it by his

ability and by making money, and, with a touch of a sense of injustice,

he said he had ceased to expect that the colored race would get it in

any other way. Another reply was—and this was evidently the deep feeling

of all: “We want to be treated like men, like anybody else, regardless

of color. We don’t mean by this social equality at all; that is a matter

that regulates itself among whites and colored people everywhere. We

want the public conveyances open to us according to the fare we pay;

we want privilege to go to hotels and to theatres, operas and places of

amusement. We wish you could see our families and the way we live; you

would then understand that we cannot go to the places assigned us in

concerts and theatres without loss of self-respect.” I might have said,

but I did not, that the question raised by this last observation is not

a local one, but as wide as the world.

If I tried to put in a single sentence the most widespread and active

sentiment in the South to-day, it would be this: The past is put behind

us; we are one with the North in business and national ambition: we want

a sympathetic recognition of this fact.

VII.—A FAR AND FAIR COUNTRY.

Lewis and Clarke, sent out by Mr. Jefferson in 1804 to discover the

North-west by the route of the Missouri River, left the town of St.

Charles early in the spring, sailed and poled and dragged their boats up

the swift, turbulent, and treacherous stream all summer, wintered with

the Mandan Indians, and reached the Great Falls of the Missouri in about

a year and a quarter from the beginning of their voyage. Now, when we

wish to rediscover this interesting country, which is still virgin land,

we lay down a railway-track in the spring and summer, and go over there

in the autumn in a palace-car—a much more expeditious and comfortable

mode of exploration.

In beginning a series of observations and comments upon Western life it

is proper to say that the reader is not to expect exhaustive statistical

statements of growth or development, nor descriptions, except such as

will illustrate the point of view taken of the making of the Great West.

Materialism is the most obtrusive feature of a cursory observation, but

it does not interest one so much as the forces that underlie it, the

enterprise and the joyousness of conquest and achievement that it stands

for, or the finer processes evolved in the marvellous building up of new

societies. What is the spirit, what is the civilization of the West? I

have not the presumption to expect to answer these large questions to

any one’s satisfaction—least of all to my own—but if I may be permitted

to talk about them familiarly, in the manner that one speaks to his

friends of what interested him most in a journey, and with flexibility

in passing from one topic to another, I shall hope to contribute

something to a better understanding between the territories of a vast

empire. How vast this republic is, no one can at all appreciate who does

not actually travel over its wide areas. To many of us the West is still

the West of the geographies of thirty years ago; it is the simple

truth to say that comparatively few Eastern people have any adequate

conception of what lies west of Chicago and St. Louis: perhaps a hazy

geographical notion of it, but not the faintest idea of its civilization

and society. Now, a good understanding of each other between the great

sections of the republic is politically of the first importance. We

shall hang together as a nation; blood, relationship, steel rails,

navigable waters, trade, absence of natural boundaries, settle that. We

shall pull and push and grumble, we shall vituperate each other, parties

will continue to make capital out of sectional prejudice, and wantonly

inflame it (what a pitiful sort of “politics” that is!), but we shall

stick together like wax. Still, anything like smooth working of our

political machine depends upon good understanding between sections. And

the remark applies to East and West as well as to North and South. It is

a common remark at the West that “Eastern people know nothing about

us; they think us half civilized and there is mingled with slight

irritability at this ignorance a waxing feeling of superiority over

the East in force and power.” One would not say that repose as yet goes

along with this sense of great capacity and great achievement; indeed,

it is inevitable that in a condition of development and of quick growth

unparalleled in the history of the world there should be abundant

self-assertion and even monumental boastfulness.

When the Western man goes East he carries the consciousness of playing

a great part in the making of an empire; his horizon is large; but

he finds himself surrounded by an atmosphere of indifference or

non-comprehension of the prodigiousness of his country, of incredulity

as to the refinement and luxury of his civilization; and self-assertion

is his natural defence. This longitudinal incredulity and swagger is

a curious phenomenon. London thinks New York puts on airs, New York

complains of Chicago’s want of modesty, Chicago can see that Kansas City

and Omaha are aggressively boastful, and these cities acknowledge the

expansive self-appreciation of Denver and Helena.

Does going West work a radical difference in a man’s character? Hardly.

We are all cut out of the same piece of cloth. The Western man is the

Eastern or the Southern man let loose, with his leading-strings cut. But

the change of situation creates immense diversity in interests and in

spirit. One has but to take up any of the great newspapers, say in St.

Paul or Minneapolis, to be aware that he is in another world of ideas,

of news, of interests. The topics that most interest the East he does

not find there, nor much of its news. Persons of whom he reads daily

in the East drop out of sight, and other persons, magnates in politics,

packing, railways, loom up. It takes columns to tell the daily history

of places which have heretofore only caught the attention of the Eastern

reader for freaks of the thermometer, and he has an opportunity to

read daily pages about Dakota, concerning which a weekly paragraph has

formerly satisfied his curiosity. Before he can be absorbed in these

lively and intelligent newspapers he must change the whole current of

his thoughts, and take up other subjects, persons, and places than those

that have occupied his mind. He is in a new world.

Studies in the South and West, with Comments on Canada · 第 7 / 32 段