Correspondences

No. 1 Post 1852

I have for some time been thinking of making a request to you, and I may as well speak it out now as any other time.  It is this.  I have seen a likeness of a daughter of a man from Fisherville called a photograph likeness.  It was sent to him in a letter.  Might I ask a photograph of yourself – a daguerreotype or any other method by which a likeness of yourself might reach one.  You should have had mine by this conveyance, could I have had it taken, but as you have the convenience and I have not, the request is not an unfair one on my part, for did I so think it, no syllable of this request was to have been breathed by me.  I was about making another request but as that is a very delicate one, having relations to pecuniary matters, I forebear to put it on paper, contenting myself by merely intimating that if myself or my means can in any way minister to your convenience or gratifications, as far apart as we are you have but to intimate your desire and as certainly as it is made, so certainly shall it be complished with to the best of my ability.  I do not know that I have made myself understood, but if so, I will try again in my onset.

As to the French pieces in Shirley, permit me to say that I never studied French as an accomplishment; all I have acquired of that language is from contact with Frenchmen, and therefore though I can understand enough for myself, do not pretend to translate grammatically any French works.  But would you not like to go to a Ladies Seminary for a few months and study grammatically that beautiful language.  Nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to know that I could thus at an accomplishment to one whom I would desire to see possessed of every accomplishment that time and study and money could procure.  Excuse me for being plain of speech and may I ask an equal plainness in return.

But here I must let you into a little secret of California married life.  I was going through a town a few days since, and saw a crowd of persons around a store.  On arriving at the spot what should I see but a woman with a cowhide whip laying it over the back and shoulder of a man.  The fellow looked pretty strong and made every effort to release himself from the grip the female had of his coat collar, but in vain, she flogged him soundly and only apparently quit her castigating when exhausted.  I learnt furthermore that the man was her own husband, and that she was in the habit of so treating him, alleging that she married him for convenience having thrown off two better men than ever he was to take him, and afterwards finding he was not all he pretended to be, she took this public method of testifying her contempt of his person and showing her determination, which she said was to beat him within an inch of his life when he misbehaved himself in the smallest particular.  California is a great place for viragos, certainly.  Dame Gossip of Salisbury, would flourish in a country where similar scenes to this are of anything but rare occurrence.

But here is another phase of California life.  An Episcopal Church was being built in Grass Valley and the funds gave out.  Now to raise funds to go on with it was a query that was hard to be answered till at length the ladies took hold of it.  Yes the ladies took hold and what think you they done?  A new theatre was just finished in town, they hired it, gave notice for a supper and ball at $5 a ticket.  The night arrived the place was crowded, a splendid supper set out, and after that dancing was the order of the night, a bar room in the building furnished stimulus at a bit/12/2 cents/a glass.  The expenses were of course heavy, but when all were paid, the fund raised for building the church amounted to the new little sum of $1300!

Following in the wake of this, the ladies of the Methodist Church gave out a programme for a supper in one place with a privilege to all those who wished to dance to retire to another room in a separate building where they might “trip it on the light fantastic too”, till they were tired.  This turned them in, too, a nice penny for the use of the church.

The ladies of another church, Congregational, in Grass Valley, wanting to raise funds to purchase a Melodeon for the church, and not wishing to countenance dancing took another method.  It was this:  They got up an “old folks concert” in full costume of our grandfathers and grandmothers, the singing to be of the old tunes in use in said grandfather’s and grandmother’s days.  The church was fitted up for the occasion, a stage made, with curtains to retire behind. Etc.  The church was literally crammed with auditors, myself among the number.  At the hour appointed the choir appeared with their attendants.  First came an old gentleman, dressed according to the ancient regime’, his hair powdered and his queue looking as natural as life, attended by his lady, an elderly woman with a monstrous green calashe bonnet on, or sun bonnets as I believe they are now called, also dressed in ancient regime’.  These intended to represent the Squire of the village and his lady, were conducted to a sofa apart from the rest of the actors.  Then came another lady with an old fashioned cap on, spectacles over her eyes, her knitting in one hand, and a small box in the other with a reticule hanging from her wrist, accompanied by a man who represented the Dominion of the village, that is the Minister.  After them came the choir.  The leader having in his hand an enormous pitch pipe, made like a boy’s whistle, with the buttons of his coat behind pretty nearly up to his shoulder breeches and knee and shoe buckles, his vest coming down in the shape of flaps to his thighs.  After him came the ladies, and such a crowd.  I really laughed outright.  They were dressed in calico gowns, they were made out of the smallest amount of calico, certainly not more than six yard total to a dress, the waist of each dress nearly up to the armpits, woolen stockings and shoes on; their heads were graced by an enormous back comb, which stood up some five inches above the hair, and seemed like a piece of board painted tortoise shell color.  After them came the men, and such a crowd – their coats reached nearly to the heels while the waist was nearly up to the shoulder, and one had an enormous old fashioned hat made in this shape     on his head. Well, they got in order for singing, the lady with her knitting being busily at work at the time, and after a while the leader gave the customary tap and all was attention and the tune being pitched, off they started, with all the attention of all the lungs they were blessed with in vigerous play.  The tunes sung were Northfield, Devotion, Rainbow, 34^th Psalm, Turner, Bridgwater, Old Victory, Majesty, Ocean, etc., etc. and if every member of that choir, men, women and children did not make more noise than I ever heard before made by any choir of equal number, you can shoot me!  Between times the ladies and gentleman paid court to the Squire and his lady and to the lady with the knitting, take it from her examining the stitches, etc. and pronouncing it very nice indeed when the old lady would take out from a reticule she had hanging on her arm her snuff box and every body regaled their olfactories with a pinch, after which they pitched into singing again and so on to the end.  One young lady, who I presume was the Squires daughter, presided at the harpisicord, and in the course of the evening favored the choir and audience with a song of the older time, called the “Beautiful Star”, which ended something like this:

“Beautiful Star, Star, Star, Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful Star.”

The young lady who sang this song has ever since been known as the Beautiful Star.  In singing these old tunes, the base would start off in a solo, then the other parts in succession, till they all seemed involved in inextricable (complicated) confusion; but towards the last, they all came into the traces again and the old tune would subside beautifully.  So well did this apparently ridiculous exhibition in a church take with the people that it was repeated with a like success, and the church raised all the money needed on the strength of it.

The Catholics were at the time building a large brick Chapel here, and encouraged probably by the successes above mentioned, the ladies of that Church got up a supper and ball and raised some $2000.

Such are some of the means made use of in California to raise money for Churches.  Now do you think the Churches in the Old Granite State would fare if they made the attempt to go and do likewise.

But let me here jot down another phase of California life.  Last Saturday evening, I had occasion to go into Grass Valley, and passing a large gambling house, which though there is a law forbidding gambling is kept open, spite of law, I observed the house filled almost to suffocation.  The gambling tables were all in full play, and standing over one of them was a young female apparently not over 18 years of age, with a wand in her hand.  A more magnificently dressed female I perhaps never saw beore.  Her costume was in exact imitation of that in which the Goddess of Fortune is usually found draped.  The skin of the female appeared to be as fair as a delicate rose, and altogether, she presented as pretty a piece of animated statuary as the eye ever rested on.  But oh ma conscience, while I stood gaping at her, her mouth opened and she sang out in a shrill tone, “Boy, bring me a gin cocktail”.  The gin cocktail was brought, and from her elevated position she stepped on to the table, and taking the glass she raised it with a graceful flourish and said “Well boys here’s a health to you all, may you never want cocktails as long as you live”, and down went the liquor through the “red lane”, as she called her throat.

But yet another:  There is in this place a Banker, the most substantial in the place.  This man has a wife in the States and yet keeps a woman here, who lives in a house with one of his daughters.  A series of lectures were being delivered in the Congregational Church and among a number of others this Banker was chosen to deliver one of the lectures.  The evening arrived, and a house full were in attendance.  The Lecturer came in with his mistress and daughter, and ascended to the sacred desk and amid the hearty applause of the audience delivered his lecture.

Thinking perhaps that Dame Gossip of Salisbury might be slack in items of astonishment I have just jotted down the foregoing phrases of California life for her benefit, merely observing by the way that which she holds up her hand in mute astonishment, she must not think that the same things rarely occurs here.  These things are so commonly heard of in California, that to attract attention, they must have a dreadful tragedy attached to them, such as a whole family being poisoned by the father, or a shooting scrape in the streets, or something else of the horrible.  But with the good old Dame, me thinks I see hand uplifted in mute astonishment awhile and then hear them exclaiming, Well, I never, did you ever!

But another instance or two.  In the fall of 1849 a clipper ship left one of the piers in New York harbor for San Francisco in the evening.  Next morning a hat was found on the end of the pier, which contained a letter for the wife of the man who owned the hat; stating that he had become wearied of life – the world had gone against him, etc. etc., etc. and he had become so dejected that to put an end of life.  In six months after this, this man turned up in San Francisco, living with his wife’s sister, as man and wife, and he actually a minister of the Gospel.  I arrived in San Francisco in 1852 and he was there preaching every Sabbath in one of the Court Rooms.  He afterwards moved to the mountains and preached here and now with her who now has become his wife, his first wife having died in the meantime, is living not half a mile from where I write this, having since here ran in debt $4,000 to grocers and everybody else and advertised to take the benefit of the Insolvent Debtors Act, which he will do in a few days.  This is a true story.  This individual said to me a few days since that his greatest ambition was to obtain the where with to return to the States and resume the employment there that was so congenial to him, viz’, the preaching of the Gospel.  This wolf in sheep’s clothing, is an Englishman born, though residing a number of years in the States, and at one time I understand was pastor of a Church in Lowell, Massachusetts.

But another – In the year 1852 one of the leading merchants in San Francisco was from the State of Mississippi, about 35 years of age, and doing an immense business.  He was left an orphan, and taken by his uncle, a wealthy planter in Mississippi, and brought up as his own child.  Being a likely youth, after the cotton crop had been got-in and shipped to New Orleans, he was sent down by his uncle to settle his accounts there and bring the balance back to him.  In 1849, he went on his annual journey of this kind and his aunt wishing to pay a visit to New Orelans the Uncle thought this a good opportunity.  She accordingly went down with him and after getting the money for the cotton crop, instead of returning to the Uncle, they both, Aunt and nephew, started for California, and were considered among the upper ten of San Francisco when I arrived there, although the facts I have related were probably known.

But yet another – In 1849 a man who kept a large grocery in New York where I then lived, by the name of Briordy, ran away leaving a wife and family behind him.  About three months after this, a letter appeared in a New York paper from Panama, the writer of which stated that in crossing the Isthmus they observed two or three graves a little way from the road, and on going to them, saw at the head of one of the graves, a board to the effect that this same Briordy from New York had died in crossing the Isthmus, and had been buried there by his companions.  On hearing this, the neighbors started a subscription, and furnished the widow with the means to establish herself in a small grocery store by which when I left she maintained her family.  I arrived in San Francisco in Sept. 1852 and not getting into business as quick as I imagined, took the opportunity of moving around the city.  One day, on turning the corner of a street quickly, I came in contact with a man, and when I looked up to make an apology for my apparent rudeness, behold who should the individual be but the very same Briody, whose board headstone to this day is to be seen on the Isthmus of Panama.  On taxing him with his perfidy, he seemed angry, and passed me quickly, and never condescended to recognize me again, though we often met.

Again – in 1850 an outrage was committed in the open day upon the person of the wife of a wealthy gentleman residing near Greenwood Cemetery.  She was going from her own house a short distance to visit a neighbor, when set upon by three of four individuals.  After her being abused her clothes were drawn up over her head and tied in that position and she left standing in the road in that horrid pitiful condition.  The principal in this unmanly outrage absconded, and when I arrived in San Francisco was there holding a responsible position as one of the law officers of the city.

But enough of this, when I add that times without number persons have been pointed out to me, merchants, lawyers and men of all professions, as being common smugglers, forgers, counterfeiters, etc. in the States, but in California either rich men or occupying responsible public positions.  Coming from the East myself, and living in the Sodom and Gomorrah of the United States, but ma conscience.  California beats it blind, and true are the words of a writer from this place whose letter appeared sometime since in a New Hampshire paper that “California is the paradise of rascality – the hell of hen-pecked husbands”.

All these things are not done secretly, not subjected to any censure, but are looked upon as legitimate operations combining a knowledge of human nature and the necessary tack to turn that knowledge to accounts.  As in the gambling scene, so in all the rest, the display in the former case is against and in the face of law and its officers in the other cases against the custom and usages of Religious Societies, if not a violation of the moral law, and the argument in its favor is that it is better to turn the money thus obtained to a good purpose, that to let it be squandered at the gambling table or other scenes of dissipation.  One thing is certain; that as far as my observation extends, pure religion is at a very low ebb in California.

But at the expense of tiring your patience, which I should be very sorry to do on any account, and less I tire you too much, let me just say, that whatever you find in my letters that on beginning to read is not likely to please you, you will oblige me by casting aside, so that when a rainy or muddy or cold snowy day is on you, and ennui is present; they  may possibly form some little contrast to the scene without, and be found worthy to be glanced over by you.  I would not, my dearest lady, that you should ever have anything to cross your path that by any violation of mine, would cause you one moments uneasiness.  We have been thrown into contact as it were mysteriously, and are seemingly and I hope truly interested in each other.  For my part so gratified am I by the circumstances that surround us, that in your own words, I would not have it otherwise, and had I the power, you can believe me I would sprite myself away over the mountains and valleys that intervene, and seek in the town of Salisbury communion sweet with her who already seems the better part of my existence – with her who has already imparted a new and stirring motive to my ambition – an earnest desire that I may in the set time be enabled to take as it were the wings of a dove, and fly away, and at her side be at rest.  To you I truly can say that

If every kind wish of the heart

Were a rich and precious gem

I’d place upon thy placid brow

A brilliant diadem

Excuse if I have thus expressed my feeling without any warrant that they are or will be reciprocated, but I have done so, and am content to abide by your judgment, if favorable and must strive to bear it if otherwise.

I commenced the last paragraph by saying “that at the expense of tiring your patience”, and I now add, I will give you some of my pencilings by the way of life in California.

One thing I have found in California, that is a lack of principle.  Men you will find here and women too who in their own homes in the States were patterns of property, yet here are guilty of conduct – the most inconsistent – at home for instance, strict temperance people, here just the reverse, and it is not infrequent to hear them say in justification, that we are in California, and as soon as we can get enough intend to go back to the states and live as we used to do.  And so in all other kinds of business, and so to a great extent in private life.  California seems to unmake the character of almost every one that enters its boundaries with the intention of getting money and returning again whence they come.  I have felt the full force of this in my dealings with men, who at home are considered beyond reproach, and one will be as good as a thousand instances, in proof of this.  I recently had dealings with a man who is trusted and one of the principal members of a church to the amount of $400.  This man assured me when the time of payment came near, that he was unable to pay this amount stating that he was engaged in business (mining), that he had used up all his funds in preparing to wash for gold, and was then in need of $150 more to enable him to prosecute his work.  On the assurance that he would pay me as soon as he began to take out gold, I let him have the $150, and when he had taken out gold, requested payment of my $550 he flatly refused to pay under a year.  Provoked at his dishonorable conduct, I sued him and he then put off the trial for a year.  In the meantime working his claims out and when they were finally sold by the sheriff, provided just $100, $30 of which I paid in law expenses leaving me $70 for my $550.  Although this dishonorable affair was known to everybody, yet it did not affect his standing in Church, and even now, when I go to church, he will pass the plate to me for a contribution with as meek and sober countenance as if he were really as pure as a Cherub.  Upon the strength of mine and other people’s money he has erected the finest dwelling house in the place, got his family out, and is living in that house which cost him $5000 protected from all his debts by the Homestead Law.  If this were a solitary case, I would be glad but I am sorry to say that conduct of an opposite character, is only an exception to what appears to me to be a general evil, and has led others as well as myself to come to a determination to leave California as soon as our Business will allow us.

The enclosed I intended to put in a letter.  I intended writing for next mail or some other time, but not having time to write you a long letter, perhaps they may afford you a little allocation on some rainy or other day when ennui is present with.  I have not time to connect them together having in my haste already wrong paged them once and may have done so again.  If they won’t serve any better purpose, the paper will do perhaps to put your hair in papers. Or something of that sort. E.F.D.

”Shirley”  written by Charlotte Brontë 1849.

Robert Moore is a mill owner noted for apparent ruthlessness toward his employees – more than any other mill owner in town. He has laid off many of them, apparently indifferent to their resulting poverty. But in fact he has no choice, since the mill is deep in debt. The mill was inefficiently run by his late father and is already mortgaged. His elder brother became a private tutor, leaving Robert to restore the mill to profitability. He is determined to restore his family’s honour and fortune.

As the novel opens, Robert awaits delivery of new labor-saving machinery to the mill. The new machinery will let him lay off additional employees. Robert, with some friends, watches all night, but the machinery is destroyed on the way by angry millworkers. Robert’s business difficulties continue, due in part to the continuing labor unrest, but even more so to the Napoleonic Wars and the accompanying Orders in Council which forbid British merchants from trading in American markets.

Robert is very close to Caroline Helstone, who comes to his house to learn French from his sister, Hortense. Caroline worships Robert and he likes her too. Caroline’s father is dead and her mother had abandoned her, leaving her to be brought up by her uncle, the local parson, Rev. Helstone. Caroline is penniless, and to keep himself from falling in love with her, Robert keeps his distance from her, since he cannot afford to marry for pleasure or love. He has to marry for money if he is to get his mill going again.

Caroline realizes that Robert is growing increasingly distant and withdraws into herself. Her uncle does not sympathise with her ‘fancies’, and she has no money of her own, so she cannot leave the place, which is what she longs to do. She suggests taking up the job of a governess but her uncle dismisses it and assures her that she need not work.

Caroline cheers up a great deal, however, when she meets Shirley. Shirley is a landowner, an independent heiress whose parents are dead and who lives with Mrs. Pryor, an old governess. Shirley is lively, cheerful, full of ideas about how to use her money and how to help people, and very interested in business concerns. Caroline and Shirley soon become very close friends. They both dislike social hypocrisy and wish they could do something significant with their lives. As Caroline gets closer to Shirley, she notices that Shirley and Robert get along very well, which makes her think that they would end up marrying each other. Shirley likes Robert, is very interested in his work, and is concerned about him and the threats he gets from laid-off millworkers. Both good and bad former employees are depicted. Some passages show the real suffering of those who were honest workers and can no longer find good employment; other passages show how some people use losing their jobs as an excuse to get drunk, fight with their previous employers, and incite other people to violence. Shirley uses her money to help the poorest of the lot, but she is also motivated by the desire to prevent any attack on Robert, a motive that makes Caroline both happy and unhappy.

One night, Mr. Helstone convinces Shirley to stay with Caroline while he spends the night with an old friend who had recently come to town. Caroline and Shirley realize that an attack on the mill is imminent. They hear Mr. Helstone’s dog barking and realize that the riot has stopped outside the rectory. They overhear the rioters talking about entering the house, but are relieved when they decide to go on. They then go the mill together to warn Robert. But they come too late and have to hide near the mill. But Robert is already prepared and he mounts a counter-attack. He defeats the attackers, the whole encounter being witnessed by Shirley and Caroline from their hiding place.

Hortense has Caroline over one evening to keep her company while Robert is away. The maid, Sarah and Hortense have an argument over some jelly, and Caroline decides to leave. She goes upstairs to get her things, and hears Robert’s overseer Joe Scott announce a Mr. Moore into the house. Hortense drags Caroline into the parlor and Caroline is confused by her formality with Robert. But a moment later, Robert enters the room, and Caroline realizes that the first Mr. Moore is Louis Moore, Robert’s brother, and tutor to Henry, Shirley’s cousin.

After this incident, the whole neighbourhood is convinced that Robert and Shirley shall wed. The anticipation of this causes Caroline to fall sick. Mrs. Pryor comes to look after her, and realizes that Caroline is pining away. Every Tuesday, Caroline sits by the window sill, no matter how weak or tired, to catch a glimpse of Robert on his way to the market. Mrs. Pryor makes it a point to see what it is that Caroline looks out for. She learns the cause of Caroline’s sorrow but is helpless; she continues her vigil in the sick room even as Caroline worsens daily.

Caroline hears from Hortense that Robert has left for London without any concrete reason. Caroline has lost even the weekly glimpse of him, and she feels that she has ‘nothing left to live for’ since there is no one who cares whether she lives or dies. Mrs. Pryor then reveals to Caroline that she is Caroline’s mother. She had abandoned her because Caroline looked exactly like her father – the husband who tortured Mrs. Pryor and made her life miserable. She had little money; when her brother-in-law offered to bring up the child, she accepted it, took up a family name of Pryor and went off to become a governess. Caroline now has a reason to live – her ‘mamma’. She begins to recover slowly, since she knows that she can go and live with her mother.

Shirley’s uncle and aunt come to visit her. The uncle joins Shirley in her office work (administering her land and investments). They bring with them their daughters, their son, and their son’s tutor. He is Louis Moore, Robert’s younger brother, who had taught Shirley when she was younger. Caroline is puzzled by Shirley’s behaviour towards Louis – the friendly girl who treats her servants as her own family is always haughty and formal with Louis and never seems to forget that he is a lowly tutor with no money of his own. Two men fall in love with Shirley and woo her, but she refuses both because she does not love them. Her uncle is surprised by this behaviour and wants her to marry someone respectable soon. A baronet, the most prominent nobleman of the district, falls in love with Shirley. She likes him too, though she does not respect him and does not want to marry him. The neighbourhood, however, is certain that she will not refuse so favourable a match. The relationship between Shirley and Louis, meanwhile, remains ambivalent. There are days when Louis can, with the authority of an old teacher, ask Shirley to come to the schoolroom and recite the French pieces that she learnt earlier. On other days, Shirley completely ignores Louis, not even speaking to him once though they have breakfast, lunch and dinner at the same table. At the same time, when Shirley is upset, the only one she can confide in is Louis. When a supposed ‘mad dog’ bites Shirley and makes her think that she is likely to die early, no one can make her reveal what it is that makes her so sad. It is only Louis who gets the whole incident out of her, and Shirley makes him promise that if she is dying of rabies, and to be put to death because of the terrible suffering in the last stages of the disease, it will be his hand that delivers that final injection.

Robert returns one dark night, first stopping at the market and then returning to his home with a friend. The friend tells him that it is widely speculated that Shirley is to marry a rich man and asks him why he left when it seemed so sure that Shirley loved him and would have married him. Robert replies that he had assumed the same, and that he had proposed to Shirley before he left. But Shirley had at first laughed, thinking that he was not serious, and cried when she discovered that he was. She had told him that she knew that he did not love her, that he asked for her hand not for her but for her money and this decreased her respect for him. When Robert had argued that Shirley had shown concern for him, been open with him from the very beginning and discussed his business matters at length with him, she had said that she had esteem and affection for him, but not love and now even that esteem and affection were in danger. Robert walked away from that room filled with a sense of humiliation, even as he knew that she was right – that he had ignored his affection for Caroline and sought out Shirley primarily for her money. This self-disgust drove Robert away to London and he realized there that restoring the family name was not as important as self-respect and he had returned home, determined to close the mill if he had to, and go away to Canada and work hard and make his fortune. Just as Robert finishes his narration, his friend hears a gunshot and Robert falls from his horse – the laid-off workers are finally avenged.

The friend takes Robert to his own home and looks after him, and after a turn for the worse, Robert slowly gets better. A visit from Caroline revives him but she has to come secretly, hiding from her uncle and his friend and his family. Robert soon moves back to his house and persuades his sister that the very thing the house needs to cheer it up is a visit by Caroline. Robert asks for Caroline’s forgiveness and tries to tell her what had happened with Shirley, but she stops him and tells him that she has forgiven him and that she got some idea from Shirley and does not need to know any more. She also predicts that Shirley is in love too, and that she is not ‘master of her own heart’.

When Shirley refuses the baronet’s offer of marriage, her uncle is enraged and has a fight with her. He then decides to leave Stillborough. This means that Louis will have to leave too, which emboldens him enough to make his declaration – he proposes to Shirley, despite the difference in their relative situations. Shirley agrees to marry him, though she has moments of indecision and panic at the thought of giving up her independence.

At first, Caroline is to be the bridesmaid for Shirley, but Robert proposes and she accepts him.The novel ends with Caroline and Shirley marrying the two brothers, Robert and Louis, respectively.