brother Thomas (being by that time twenty-one) went away by agreement
still further west to Michigan, leaving young Jim to take his place
upon the little farm. The fences were all completed, by this time; the
barn was built, the ground was fairly brought under cultivation, and it
required comparatively little labour to keep the land cropped after the
rough fashion which amply satisfies American pioneers, with no rent to
pay, and only their bare living to make out of the soil. Thomas was
going to fell trees in Michigan, to clear land there for a farmer; and
he proposed to use his earnings (when he got them) for the purpose of
building a "frame house" (that is to say, a house built of planks)
instead of the existing log hut. It must be added, in fairness, that
hard as were the circumstances under which the young Garfields lived,
they were yet lucky in their situation in a new country, where wages
were high, and where the struggle for life is far less severe or
competitive than in old settled lands like France and England. Thomas,
in fact; would get boarded for nothing in Michigan, and so would be
able easily to save almost all his high wages for the purpose of
building the frame house.
So James had to take to the farm in summer, while in the winter he
began to work as a sort of amateur carpenter in a small way. As yet he
had lived entirely in the backwoods, and had never seen a town or even
a village; but his education in practical work had begun from his very
babyhood, and he was handy after the usual fashion of American or
colonial boys--ready to turn his hand to anything that happened to
present itself. In new countries, where everybody has not got
neighbours and workmen within call, such rough-and-ready handiness is
far more common than in old England. The one carpenter of the
neighbourhood asked James to help him, on the proud day when Tom
brought back his earnings from Michigan, and set about the building of
the frame house, for which he had already collected the unhewn timber.
From that first beginning, by the time he was thirteen, James was
promoted to assist in building a barn; and he might have taken
permanently to a carpenter's life, had it not been that his boyish
passion for reading had inspired him with an equal passion for going to
sea. He had read Marryatt's novels and other sailor tales--what boy
has not?--and he was fired with the usual childish desire to embark
upon that wonderful life of chasing buccaneers, fighting pirates,
capturing prizes, or hunting hidden treasure, which is a lad's
brilliantly coloured fancy picture of an everyday sailor's wet, cold,
cheerless occupation.
At last, when James was about fifteen, his longing for the sea grew so
strong that his mother, by way of a compromise, allowed him to go and
try his luck with the Lake Erie captains at Cleveland. Shipping on the
great lakes, where one can see neither bank from the middle of the wide
blue sheet of water, and where wrecks are unhappily as painfully
frequent as on our own coasts, was quite sufficiently like going to sea
to suit the adventurous young backwoodsman to the top of his bent. But
when he got to Cleveland, a fortunate disappointment awaited him. The
Cleveland captains declined his services in such vigorous seafaring
language (not unmixed with many unnecessary oaths), that he was glad
enough to give up the idea of sailoring, and take a place as driver of
a canal boat from Cleveland to Pittsburg in Pennsylvania, the boat
being under the charge of one of his own cousins. Copper ore was then
largely mined on Lake Superior, where it is very abundant, carried by
ship to Cleveland, down the chain of lakes, and there transferred to
canal boats, which took it on to Pittsburg, the centre of a great coal
and manufacturing district in Pennsylvania, to be smelted and employed
in various local arts. Young Garfield stuck for a little while to the
canal business. He plodded along wearily upon the bank, driving his
still wearier horse before him, and carrying ore down to Pittsburg with
such grace as he best might; but it didn't somehow quite come up to his
fancy picture of the seaman's life. It was dull and monotonous, and he
didn't care for it much. In genuine American language, "he didn't find
it up to sample." The sea might be very well in its way; but a canal
was a very different matter indeed. So after a fair trial, James
finally gave the business up, and returned to his mother on the little
homestead, ill and tired with his long tramping.
While he was at home, the schoolmaster of the place, who saw that the
lad had abilities, was never tired of urging him to go to school, and
do himself justice by getting himself a first-rate education, or at
least as good a one as could be obtained in America. James was ready
enough to take this advice, if the means were forthcoming; but how was
he to do so? "Oh, that's easy enough," said young Bates, the master.
"You'll only have to work out of hours as a carpenter, take odd jobs in
your vacations, live plainly, and there you are." In England there are
few schools where such a plan would be practicable; but in
rough-and-ready America, where self-help is no disgrace, there are
many, and they are all well attended. In the neighbouring town of
Chester, a petty Baptist sect had started a young school which they
named Geauga Seminary (there are no plain schools in America--they are
all "academies" or "institutes"); and to this simple place young
Garfield went, to learn and work as best he might for his own
advancement. A very strange figure he must then have cut, indeed; for
a person who saw him at the time described him as wearing a pair of
trousers he had long outworn, rough cow-hide boots, a waistcoat much
too short for him, and a thread-bare coat, with sleeves that only
reached a little below the elbows. Of such stuff as that, with a stout
heart and an eager brain, the budding presidents of the United States
are sometimes made.
James soon found himself humble lodgings at an old woman's in Chester,
and he also found himself a stray place at a carpenter's shop in the
town, where he was able to do three hours' work out of school time
every day, besides giving up the whole of his Saturday holiday to
regular labour. It was hard work, this schooling and carpentering side
by side; but James throve upon it; and at the end of the first term he
was not only able to pay all his bill for board and lodging, but also
to carry home a few dollars in his pocket by way of savings.
James stopped three years at the "seminary" at Chester; and in the
holidays he employed himself by teaching in the little township schools
among the country districts. There is generally an opening for young
students to earn a little at such times by instructing younger boys
than themselves in reading, writing, and arithmetic; and the
surrounding farmers, who want schooling for their boys, are glad enough
to take the master in on the "boarding round" system, for the sake of
his usefulness in overlooking the lads in the preparation of their home
lessons. It is a simple patriarchal life, very different from anything
we know in England; and though Ohio was by this time a far more settled
and populated place than when Abram Garfield first went there, it was
still quite possible to manage in this extremely primitive and family
fashion. The fact is, though luxuries were comparatively unknown, food
was cheap and abundant; and a young teacher who was willing to put his
heart into his work could easily earn more than enough to live upon in
rough comfort. Sometimes the school-house was a mere log hut, like
that in which young Garfield had been born; but, at any rate, it was
work to do, and food to eat, and that alone was a great thing for a lad
who meant to make his own way in the world by his own exertions.
Near the end of his third year at Chester, James met, quite
accidentally, with a young man who had come from a little embryo
"college," of the sort so common in rising American towns, at a place
called Hiram in Ohio. American schools are almost as remarkable as
American towns for the oddity and ugliness of their names; and this
"college" was known by the queer and meaningless title of the "Eclectic
Institute." It was conducted by an obscure sect who dub themselves
"The Disciples' Church," to which young Garfield's father and mother
had both belonged. His casual acquaintance urged upon him strongly the
desirability of attending the institute; and James, who had already
begun to learn Latin, and wished to learn more, was easily persuaded to
try this particular school rather than any other.
In August, 1851, James Garfield, then aged nearly twenty, presented
himself at the "Eclectic Institute," in the farm-labourer's clothes
which were his only existing raiment. He asked to see the "president"
of the school, and told him plainly that he wished to come there for
education, but that he was poor, and if he came, he must work for his
living. "What can you do?" asked the president. "Sweep the floors,
light the fires, ring the bell, and make myself generally useful,"
answered the young backwoodsman. The president, pleased with his
eagerness, promised to try him for a fortnight; and at the end of the
fortnight, Garfield had earned his teaching so well that he was excused
from all further fees during the remainder of his stay at the little
institute. His post was by no mean an easy one, for he was
servant-of-all-work as well as student; but he cared very little for
that as long as he could gain the means for self-improvement.
Hiram was a small town, as ugly as its name. Twelve miles from a
railway, a mere agricultural centre, of the rough back-country sort,
all brand new and dreary looking, with a couple of wooden churches,
half a dozen wooden shops, two new intersecting streets with wooden
sidewalks, and that was all. The "institute" was a square brick block,
planted incongruously in the middle of an Indian-corn plantation; and
the students were the sons and daughters of the surrounding farmers,
for (as in most western schools) both sexes were here educated
together. But the place suited Garfield far better than an older and
more dignified university would have done. The other students knew no
more than he did, so that he did not feel himself at a disadvantage;
they were dressed almost as plainly as himself; and during the time he
was at Hiram he worked away with a will at Latin, Greek, and the higher
mathematics, so as to qualify himself for a better place hereafter.
Meanwhile, the local carpenter gave him plenty of planing to do, with
which he managed to pay his way; and as he had to rise before five
every morning to ring the first bell, he was under no danger of
oversleeping himself. By 1853, he had made so much progress in his
studies that he was admitted as a sort of pupil teacher, giving
instruction himself in the English department and in rudimentary Greek
and Latin, while he went on with his own studies with the aid of the
other teachers.
James had now learnt as much as the little "Eclectic Institute" could
possibly teach him, and he began to think of going to some better
college in the older-settled and more cultivated eastern states, where
he might get an education somewhat higher than was afforded him by the
raw "seminaries" and "academies" of his native Ohio. True, his own
sect, the "Disciples' Church," had got up a petty university of their
own, "Bethany College"--such self-styled colleges swarm all over the
United States; but James didn't much care for the idea of going to it.
"I was brought up among the Disciples," he said; "I have mixed chiefly
among them; I know little of other people; it will enlarge my views and
give me more liberal feelings if a try a college elsewhere, conducted
otherwise; if I see a little of the rest of the world." Moreover,
those were stirring times in the States. The slavery question was
beginning to come uppermost. The men of the free states in the north
and west were beginning to say among themselves that they would no
longer tolerate that terrible blot upon American freedom--the
enslavement of four million negroes in the cotton-growing south. James
Garfield felt all his soul stirred within him by this great national
problem--the greatest that any modern nation has ever had to solve for
itself. Now, his own sect, the Disciples, and their college, Bethany,
were strongly tinctured with a leaning in favour of slavery, which
young James Garfield utterly detested. So he made up his mind to
having nothing to do with the accursed thing, but to go east to some
New England college, where he would mix among men of culture, and where
he would probably find more congenial feelings on the slavery question.
Before deciding, he wrote to three eastern colleges, amongst others to
Yale, the only American university which by its buildings and
surroundings can lay any claim to compare, even at a long distance, in
beauty and associations, with the least among European universities.
The three colleges gave him nearly similar answers; but one of them, in
addition to the formal statement of terms and so forth, added the short
kindly sentence, "If you come here, we shall be glad to do what we can
for you." It was only a small polite phrase; but it took the heart of
the rough western boy. If other things were about the same, he said, he
would go to the college which offered him, as it were, a friendly grasp
of the hand. He had saved a little money at Hiram; and he proposed now
to go on working for his living, as he had hitherto done, side by side
with his regular studies. But his brother, who was always kind and
thoughtful to him, would not hear of this. Thomas had prospered
meanwhile in his own small way, and he insisted upon lending James such
a sum as would cover his necessary expenses for two years at an eastern
university. James insured his life for the amount, so that Thomas
might not be a loser by his brotherly generosity in case of his death
before repayment could be made; and then, with the money safe in his
pocket, he started off for his chosen goal, the Williams College, in
one of the most beautiful and hilly parts of Massachusetts.
During the three years that Garfield was at this place, he studied hard
and regularly, so much so that at one time his brain showed symptoms of
giving way under the constant strain. In the vacations, he took a trip
into Vermont, a romantic mountain state, where he opened a writing
school at a little country village; and another into the New York
State, where he engaged himself in a similar way at a small town on the
banks of the lovely Hudson river. At college, in spite of his rough
western dress and manners, he earned for himself the reputation of a
thoroughly good fellow. Indeed, geniality and warmth of manner,
qualities always much prized by the social American people, were very
marked traits throughout of Garfield's character, and no doubt helped
him greatly in after life in, rising to the high summit which he
finally reached. It was here, too, that he first openly identified
himself with the anti-slavery party, which was then engaged in fighting
out the important question whether any new slave states should be
admitted to the Union. Charles Sumner, the real grand central figure
of that noble struggle, was at that moment thundering in Congress
against the iniquitous extension of the slave-holding area, and was
employing all his magnificent powers to assail the abominable Fugitive
Slave Bill, for the return of runaway negroes, who escaped north, into
the hands of their angry masters. The American colleges are always big
debating societies, where questions of politics are regularly argued
out among the students; and Garfield put himself at the head of the
anti-slavery movement at his own little university. He spoke upon the
subject frequently before the assembled students, and gained himself a
considerable reputation, not only as a zealous advocate of the rights
of the negro, but also as an eloquent orator and a powerful
argumentative debater.
In 1856, Garfield took his degree at Williams College, and had now
finished his formal education. By that time, he was a fair though not
a great scholar, competently read in the Greek and Latin literatures,
and with a good knowledge of French and German. He was now nearly
twenty-five years old; and his experience was large and varied enough
to make him already into a man of the world. He had been farmer,
carpenter, canal driver, and student; he had seen the primitive life of
the forest, and the more civilized society of the Atlantic shore; he
had taught in schools in many states; he had supported himself for
years by his own labours; and now, at an age when many young men are,
as a rule, only just beginning life on their own account, he had
practically raised himself from his own class into the class of
educated and cultivated gentlemen. As soon as he had taken his degree,
his old friends, the trustees of the "Eclectic Institute" at Hiram,
proud of their former sweeper and bell-ringer, called him back at a
good salary as teacher of Greek and Latin. It was then just ten years
since he had toiled wearily along the tow-path of the Ohio and
Pennsylvania Canal.
As a teacher, Garfield seems to have been eminently successful. His
genial character and good-natured way of explaining things made him a
favourite at once with the rough western lads he had to teach, who
would perhaps have thought a more formal teacher stiff and stuckup.
Garfield was one of themselves; he knew their ways and their manners;
he could make allowances for their awkwardness and bluntness of speech;
he could adopt towards them the exact tone which put them at home at
once with their easy-going instructor. Certainly, he inspired all his
pupils with an immense love and devotion for him; and it is less easy
to inspire those feelings in a sturdy Ohio farmer than in most other
varieties of the essentially affectionate human species.
From 1857 to 1861, Garfield remained at Hiram, teaching and working
very hard. His salary, though a good one for the time and place, was
still humble according to our English notions; but it sufficed for his
needs; and as yet it would have seemed hardly credible that in only
twenty years the Ohio schoolmaster would rise to be President of the
United States. Indeed, it is only in America, that country of
peculiarly unencumbered political action, where every kind of talent is
most rapidly recognized and utilized, that this particular form of
swift promotion is really possible. But while Garfield was still at
his Institute, he was taking a vigorous part in local politics,
especially on the slavery question. Whenever there was a political
meeting at Hiram, the young schoolmaster was always called upon to take
the anti-slavery side; and he delivered himself so effectively upon
this favourite topic that he began to be looked upon as a rising
political character. In America, politics are less confined to any one
class than in Europe; and there would be nothing unusual in the
selection of a schoolmaster who could talk to a seat in the local or
general legislature. The practice of paying members makes it possible
for comparatively poor men to offer themselves as candidates; and
politics are thus a career, in the sense of a livelihood, far more than
in any other country.
In 1858, Garfield married a lady who had been a fellow-student of his
in earlier days, and to whom he had been long engaged. In the
succeeding year, he got an invitation which greatly pleased and
flattered him. The authorities at Williams College asked him to
deliver the "Master's Oration" at their annual festival; an unusual
compliment to pay to so young a man, and one who had so recently taken
his degree. It was the first opportunity he had ever had for a
pleasure-trip, and taking his young wife with him (proud indeed, we may
be sure, at this earliest honour of his life, the precursor of so many
more) he went to Massachusetts by a somewhat roundabout but very
picturesque route, down the Great Lakes, through the Thousand Islands,
over the St. Lawrence rapids, and on to Quebec, the only town in
America which from its old-world look can lay claim to the sort of
beauty which so many ancient European cities abundantly possess. He
delivered his address with much applause, and returned to his Ohio home
well satisfied with this pleasant outing.
Immediately on his return, the speech-making schoolmaster was met by a
very sudden and unexpected request that he would allow himself to be
nominated for the State legislature. Every state of the Union has its
own separate little legislative body, consisting of two houses; and it
was to the upper of these, the Senate of Ohio, that James Garfield was
asked to become a candidate. The schoolmaster consented; and as those
were times of very great excitement, when the South was threatening to
secede if a President hostile to the slave-owning interest was elected,
the contest was fought out almost entirely along those particular
lines. Garfield was returned as senator by a large majority, and took
his seat in the Ohio Senate in January, 1860. There, his voice was
always raised against slavery, and he was recognized at once as one of
the ablest speakers in the whole legislature.
In 1861, the great storm burst over the States. In the preceding
November, Abraham Lincoln had been elected President. Lincoln was
himself, like Garfield, a self-made man, who had risen from the very
same pioneer labourer class;--a wood-cutter and rail-splitter in the
backwoods of Illinois, he had become a common boatman on the
Mississippi, and had there improved his mind by reading eagerly in all
his spare moments. With one of those rapid rises so commonly made by
self-taught lads in America, he had pushed his way into the Illinois
legislature by the time he was twenty-five, and qualified himself to
practise as a barrister at Springfield. His shrewd original talents
had raised him with wonderful quickness into the front ranks of his own
party; and when the question between the North and South rose into the
region of practical politics, Lincoln was selected by the republicans
(the antislavery group) as their candidate for the Presidency of the
United States. This selection was a very significant one in several
ways; Lincoln was a very strong opponent of slavery, and his
candidature showed the southern slave-owners that if the Republicans
were successful in the contest, a vigorous move against the
slave-holding oligarchy would at once be made. But it was also
significant in the fact that Lincoln was a western man; it was a sign
that the farmers and grangers of the agricultural west were beginning
to wake up politically and throw themselves into the full current of
American State affairs. On both these grounds, Lincoln's nomination
must have been deeply interesting to Garfield, whose own life had been
so closely similar, and who was destined, twenty years later, to follow
him to the same goal.
Lincoln was duly elected, and the southern states began to secede. The
firing upon Fort Sumter by the South Carolina secessionists was the
first blow struck in that terrible war. Every man who was privileged
to live in America at that time (like the present writer) cannot recall
without a glow of recollection the memory of the wild eagerness with
which the North answered that note of defiance, and went forth with
overpowering faith and eagerness to fight the good fight on behalf of
human freedom. Such a spontaneous outburst of the enthusiasm of
humanity has never been known, before or since. President Lincoln
immediately called for a supply of seventy-five thousand men. In the
Ohio Senate, his message was read amid tumultuous applause; and the
moment the sound of the cheers died away, Garfield, as natural
spokesman of the republican party, sprang to his feet, and moved in a
short and impassioned speech that the state of Ohio should contribute
twenty thousand men and three million dollars as its share in the
general preparations. The motion was immediately carried with the
wildest demonstrations of fervour, and Ohio, with all the rest of the
North, rose like one man to put down by the strong hand the hideous
traffic in human flesh and blood.