< '^^ c^" ^''-^sii^^ ^. .^ ' ^'v;n^^>. ^"^^ x-^" V » • o u % <^ ^ ^^^ ;>^% \/ • e M o *^^* >^-^-. o •• o • i» o / PRICE 20 CENTS. RECOLLECTIONS •OF A SLEEPING CAR PORTER. RECOLLECTIONS ■OF A- SLEEPING CAR PORTER. By jack THORNE. /U.^>u^. !/ Entered according to Act of Congress in the j^ear 1892^1 n the OfHce ^TM of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. D. C. /^-^t^^vvA'V //cs-zy JERSEY CITY: ^ DOAN & PILSON, BOOK AND JOB PRINTEKS, 54 MONTGOMERY STREET, ^ ^^ 1892. PS^^^'.R^ u^^^^ \^^^ (^\A*/ ^ To my esteemed friend, ISS pJ'ARY g§ASHINGTON pfoWE, is this mile volume dedicated. lav. ^,»«.,<.,»^4f* PREFACE. I hope that the title of this little volume Avill not cause the reader to look for an arraignment of employee against employer, or that there is one word written here with the intention of in any way bringing into question the unsullied reputation of the great corporation, in whose employ the writer now is. These are a few of the many things seen and ex- perienced by a sleeping-car porter. There are, no doubt, many things which may not please the reader; nevertheless, rest assured there is nothing said that is among the impossible. The following will show that while the porter is dusting and wiping here and there, placing a pillow under the head of this one, and doing some similar favor for that one, a word spoken carelessly, and soon forgotten by the passenger, affords abundant food for thought for the porter. A little grain of wheat thrown carelessly upon the ground may often spring up and produce an hundred fold. Bead it to the end. Perhaps your experience may not be unlike mine. Then, of course, you will appreciate, sympathize with, and perhaps be enter- tained by this* little book. If your experience has not been similar, there may be imparted some information. But if this little volume fails to interest, instruct, amuse, or entertain you, do not let your tongue wag so as to prejudice others, but pass it to the next. The Author. ?¥- becolLlEctioks of a Sleeping Car Porter. CHAPTER I. ^ The early Summer of 1888 found me doing service at the Eossmore (now Metropole) Hotel, corner Forty-second street and Broadway, New York City. My life up to this period had been quite an event- ful one; for I had been almost a year in this great city, drifting from place to place, looking for a permanent situation, which I found not. Those who were in that section of the country during the Spring of that year can imagine how a homeless wanderer suffered, and though at the time of which I write, I was in a fair paying position, I had become homesick. I had begun to feel as though I would like to gaze again into the eyes of that dearest and best of all women —my wife — of whom I had taken leave so uncere- moniously. Turn which way I would, the vision of the old, humble home was ever before my gaze, and that loving hand seemed to beckon, beckon, beckon. "For we watch and we wait, And we stand at the gate, While the shadows are piled, O ! Prodigal child! Come home." 6 Go I must. Who could resist the entreaty ? But how ? Penniless ? I was indeed penniless, for though I had been in this flourishing city almost a year, my bank account was exceedingly small; too small to think of paying my fare home and back again, and -leave a small sum for the little wdfe beside. '' Why not join the Pullman service and then work your way home ?" said Will Avery, a young man for whom I had a warm regard, as we stood in the great dining room, one morning. " I am sure you can get on at this season." '' I have tried once," I said, still remembering the pitying look, of the man in charge, as he slowly shook his head. **But you did not apply at the right season, and perhaps not in proper form," persisted my friend. "A person might apply till doomsday and still be unsuccessful," said he. I shall never forget the way he posted me, wind- ing up by offering to wager a month's pay that I would be at work in less than three weeks' time. A few mornings afterward and I was again in the Pullman office, with brighter hopes. " Can you furnish yourself with a uniform ? " asked the chief clerk, as I laid my application on his desk. Answering in the affirmative, I was given an order on the tailor. Employed! It seemed so, as I was on my way to have a uniform made. Almost every one is familiar with a porter's outfit ; so why describe it? But not every one is familiar with his doings within his car. I'll confess that his inviting appearance while posing in front of liis car has a tendency to deceive. If the reader has ever been in a rolling mill and seen the great drops of sweat trickling down the faces of the operators as they trudged with great bars of iron and steel, he has an idea of the appearance of the Pullman porter when performing his most import- ant duty. A novice at the work will perspire freeW in January. I made my first trip in June; so draw conclusions. CHAPTEE II. Uniform completed, I reported for duty, expect- ing to be shown around and instructed in the various ways concerning the work before going on the road. But to my disappointment, they were short of men, and the following morning found me whirling toward Memphis, Tennessee, partner of one of the laziest porters that ever walked the floor of any car. I have not seen his equal for laziness. No man need think that he can disguise the fact that he is inexperienced. The greenest passenger will discover that. '- New man, ain't you, John?" asked a kindly-faced old man, as he noticed me trying to get the head-board in the wrong way. " Turn it the other way. There, that's right." This route to Memphis was by way of the Shenandoah Valley, of Virginia. What tongue can describe the loveliness of its scenery ! As far as the eye can penetrate, the lofty peaks of the Blue Ridge, covered with verdure, appear like great waves of living green, rolling onward till they seem to.blend into the horizon. '* Oh the fields of fair Juue Have no lack of sweet flowers," 9 This valley is strewn with blossoms in Summer. But I had no time to enjoy its magnificence on this trip. My time was fully occupied filling and cleaning the lamps, dusting the window sills, assisting passen- gers on and off the car, and listening to the conductor and waiters' lectures as they sat in their seats and saw me attempt it all. The most difficult duty of the day was taking down, refilling and cleaning the lamps and replacing them while the train was in motion at the rate of thirty miles an hour over a crooked track. The passengers looked on in sympathy and pity, and this had a tendency to make the task seem less irksome. And the ladies' " Soft eyes did on me gaze, Burning, yet tender." as I descended the ladder, fearful lest I spill the oil on their dresses. This was, indeed, a tough trip. I trembled at the thought of making down a bed, and that trifling individual, the waiter, made one section for my instruction, and retired,! ordering me to call him at six o'clock. On our arrival at Jersey City at the conclusion of this, my first trip, the clerk nearly took my breath by ^assigning me to the same route, with the same porter and conductor. I was as mad as a " March hare," and somewhat discouraged, yet I determined to succeed. I returned from this trip more fatigued and des- pondent than ever, and with a full determination to give up the whole business. But I was destined to see more of the checkered life of a car service man. CHAPTEE III By request I was sent to Florida by, way of tlie Atlantic Coast Line, and this change threw me into contact with a different set of men., — good and consid- erate conductors and waiters. This furnished the long-wished-for opportunity of visiting the dear old home, if only for a short while. Home ! "Who is elo- quent enough to express its true meaning ! Leaving New York on the 9:15 evening train, we arrived at Washington the following morning, and at half-past eleven o*clock were speeding southward like an arrow to its mark. Homeward bound ! How my heart leaped as the distance between me and loved ones lessened. With- in those few hours that intervened it seemed that I lived the past days of my life over again. Days of childhood came "trooping up the misty ways." My wife stood before me, clothed in the innocence of childhood, with not a trace of sorrow or care upon her pure brow. I heard the clang of the school bell, and shouted with the children at play. I was awakened from my dream by the long, shrill whistle of the engine, announcing some station, and looking out, the familiar scenes met my gaze, for in truth / luas at home. The train thundered into the de- pot, and in a few moments I was face to face with my wife, for there she stood awaiting me. I pressed her 11 to my bosom and kissed away the burning tears of joy. Short, sweet bliss ! Fain would I have lingered, but I could not. My time was limited ; I could only hold her a short while, ask a few questions and leave her. Where is she now, do you ask? I have taken her long ago from her home of flowers to a land of snow and ice^ and there in a downy nest she awaits my coming. For every two, three or five days, I stand face to face with my wife. CHAPTEE IV. Many a porter has joiued this great company more for the opportunity of shifting from place to place and seeing with the naked eye the different portions of country so often read of, than for any other pur- pose. While this was not my chief object, those things have not been passed by unheeded. I have stood upon the shores of the Great Lakes^ gazed upon the placid waters of the Gulf, thrown peb- bles upon the bosom of the Mississippi, gathered fruit from the orange trees of Florida, and as the train moved onward, taken in with the eye interesting por- tions of the country round about. This business gives the employee not only an opportunity of seeing the country, but of coming in contact with the people, who differ very materially. This position makes one an expert in the study of characters. An experienced porter can often look his passen- gers over, and very readily tell whether he or she is Northerner, Southerner, Easterner or Westerner, ill- bred or well-bred. But it is not so easy to tell how large a tip an individual will give. Therefore, the good porter will treat all passengers civilly, lest he mistake an angel for a devil. I had a Mississippian to give me twenty-five cents for polishing his and liis son's 13 boots and warming the baby's milk over night. Some require little attention, while others require much, and in my opinion the most tedious and yet the most uncivil are people of the South and Southwest, where there is such limited consideration of the black citizen- These people are the embodiment of the old doctrine, '^A negro has no rights that a lohite man is bound to re- spect:' It is " Major," " General," " Colonel," if you please, with a twitch of the cap and duck of the head. And if there is a dime about his august person, the porter will likely get it. Passengers boarding trains going to or from New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburg or Chicago, are the most liberal and polished of Pullman patrons ; those from Pittsburg taking the lead. The weary and dust-cov- ered porter, journeying eastward from St. Louis or cities further West, looks with longing eyes toward this, the great business centre andiron manufacturing city. No car goes eastward from this point without a fair load of good passengers, whose destination is Philadel- phia or New York. Even the ladies find their pocket- books, and stand forth, money in hand, to be brushed, at the end of their trip. Two-thirds of all passengers boarding trains at New York or Philadelphia for the West, or at Chicago, Cincinnati or St. Louis for the East, get off at Pittsburg. Unlike people from the South or Southwest, it takes but little ceremony on the part of the car-service men to please them, and they know and appreciate good service. Of course all rules have their exceptions. The most polite and polished individual on a 14 Pullman car is a Bostonian. His language is so per- fect and precise, and he can find fault with such a flow of eloquence, that would do credit to a Cicero. Black his boots over night, brush him in the morning, carry out his luggage, and he will " thank you kindly," as though he knew that " thank you " were sufficient to support one's family. I have had as many as twenty of them to pass out and wish me a '* Good day," as though I did not know it. Then there are passengers who attract consider- able interest and comment, such as Presidents, Gover- nors, Senators, and the foreign nobility. But the most interesting individual that enters a sleeping car is the colored passenger. As this person enters the car and passes to his seat, the hum of conversation is hushed, and all eyes turn and stare as though some- thing unheard-of had happened. If this passenger be a lady, the attention is the more marked. Every move or turn of the head is noted with close scrutiny. When Mr. Wilson, Surveyor-General of Louisiana, was on his way from Washington to New Orleans, in company with his little daughter, two women in the opposite section allowed their curiosity to make them ridiculous. For, though they could readily tell that he was a colored man, the child puzzled them. So they gazed and whispered and craned their necks till the train reached Salisbury, North Carolina, when Mr. Wilson changed cars for New Orleans. An old gentleman boarded the west-bound train one afternoon in Jersey City, in company with a young lady, apparently about twenty-two. " What a beauty !" 15 said the porter next to me. *' Father and daughter," said I. They took passage on niy car, and I soon learned that they were husband and wife, returning to their home in Nashville, Tennessee, from a few weeks' stay in New York City. The lady was exceedingly handsome, tall, lithe of figure, dignified in bearing, with a grace of manner a princess might covet. Her face was dark and well proportioned, eyes black and round, with silken lashes, hands small and aristocratic. As this couple passed through the train to the dining car, eyes fastened upon books and papers turned to look, not on them, but upon her, I looked upon the gentleman, I fear, a little enviously, for surely he had won a treasure. As they were with us more than seven hundred miles, I had an opportunity of con- versing with them, which I did not fail to improve. At Cincinnati we shook hands and parted. But in my thoughts I followed them till I sat with them in their lovely home in Nashville. It is ever thus with the porter. He flits from city to city, and from State to State. He meets with and parts friendly with strangers. With some he wishes to linger, but time will not permit. Upon one face, perhaps, among hun- dreds, his memory turns. One voice, though blended with others, rings on and on like distant chimes of bells. He feels the pressure of one hand longer than that of others, when good-byes are said for the first and last time. I have sat in church, book in hand, in St. Louis, on Sunday, and roamed the noisy streets of Chicago the next. In this checkered life of the porter, there are many things that suggest 16 the humorous as well as the tragic and ridiculous. First on this roll is the kicker, (and he is legion), who stalks into the car with the air of one who knows it all, throws his luggage into another section, and looks around for something of which to complain. Either the car is too hot or too cold, or the crew is incompetent. On retiring, he gives orders that he be called in the morning just in time, not too early or too late, but just time enough to finish his toilet and step off as the train slows up, and the porter is about to brush off and collect. Then there is the talkative passenger,who delights to bore the porter. "Do you often have accidents? Would a passenger be safe in the sleeper ? "Where do we breakfast ? How many minutes are given ? Do they furnish a good meal? How much is charged?" etc. Going into Chicago one morning a Jew approached me and said, "I say, porter, how far you go?" "To Chicago, sir." " Tou don'd go no fudder? " "No, sir." " Gid a good breakfast in Chicago ?" " Yes sir." " Good breakfas', eh?" "Tes sir." "How long you stob in Chicago?" " Until night, sir." To-nighd, eh? "Tou don'd ged much sleep, do you, porder?" "No, sir." With this he let me pass. Jews are diligent seekers after information, but they seldom forget the porter. The ignorant passenger — one who is not in the habit of taking Pullman car accommodations, is more amusing than troublesome. Leaving New Orleans one night, a tall Mississippian, under a slouch hat, his trousers stuffed into his boots, entered the car and bought a berth. Evidently he had never been in one 17 before, for he sat in his seat and gazed stupidly about, like one out of his sphere. When the time for retir- ing came, and his bed had been made, he turned to the porter and said, ''Look here, how do you shuck yer duds to git in them things ?" Without waiting for a reply, he arose and bolted for the door. He was gone about ten minutes, when the door suddenly opened and a voice said, ''Look out, ye uns in dar, for Ise a comin'." It was the man from Mississippi. He had gone on the platform to disrobe, and with his pants in one hand and his boots in the other, made a rush for his bed, poked his head out, shook it knowingly at the astonished passengers, and said, " Ole Mississippi's slow 'bout gitting thar, but she gitsthar jis the same." CHAPTEE V. Standing in front of my car one night at Savannah, Georgia, a passenger from the coach approached me and said, " I say, Uncle, is that what ye call a sleepin' kyar?" "Yes," said I. "Wall, hit is alius bin a puzzle ter me how ye make them bunks inthar." I invited him in and let down a berth before his astonished eyes, and endeavoured to show him the " modus operandi," "Wal, I be dast," said he, " If my Sal could see that she'd jis die wid de laf. Thankee Uncle," and with that he passed out. We had slowed up at Morristown, Tennessee? one morning, when an old gentlemen and his wife started to board the sleeper. Knowing that the sleeper is often taken for the " Fuss class" on the East Tennessee Eoad, I said " Sleeping car, sir ?" He turned to his wife and said, " What'd he say ?" " I dunno; what'd ye say, Mister ? " " This is a sleeping car; do you wish to ride?" " Oh, no; I don't want no sleeping kyar," said he, " I've got a fuss class ticket here, and I'm going to ride fuss class," " That's your car," said I, pointing to the coach. Leaving Altoona, Pa., early one morning, I passed to the rear or ladies' end of the car, to look after the fire. And there, with his hands crossed behind him, with the dignified air of a " Dead Head," stood a tramp. " What are you doing here ? " I asked. "Look- 19 ing over the road," he answered, without turning his head. '' What can you see on the road at night ? " *' De lights, of course," said he. " These fellers have not been attending to duty of late at these signal tow- ers, and I thought I'd see if I could catch 'em nappin'." ''Oh, come off!" said I, laying my hand upon his shoulder. "You want to get down." '' Wal, ye see, pard, " said he, " I got tired ridin' the flats and trucks, yer know, and thought I'd try fuss class fer a spell. But I think I'll change here. This car has a flat wheel." And as the train slowed up at the foot of the mountain he got down. Then there are sudden partings, such as press the life from out of young hearts (old ones, also) and sighs which may not here be repeated. We can never tell who is going until the train is about ready to start. Mother, father, sister, brother, friends, all gather around the departing one, and with kisses, tears and sobs on the part of the women, and hearty handshakes of the men, the train moves out, ''Write, write, write; don't fail." " Porter, look after my wife." " Porter, look after my mother and see that she gets every attention," is often said. See the bride as she blushes beneath the shower of rice thrown by loved ones as the train moves out. Then, there is the rollicking school-girl, the calm and sedate priest, the scheming lawyer, the dignified politician. All go to make up the surging mass of hu- manity, that lay calmly down to sleep beneath the watchful eye of the porter. Just before the south-bound train No. 23 pulled 20 out of the Pennsylvania Station in Jersey City, one night, a lady passenger approached me and said : '' Porter, I am traveling alone. Help me to look after my child. In plain words, take care of us, and you shall be rewarded." I promised, but I tell you what, she and that baby led me a mighty chase all the next day, and part of another. "I put myself in your hands," she said in starting; and she did it to the letter. I fixed -the milk, buttoned on the little shoes, and, in fact, was general-in-chief of the nursery. Why, she would go to sleep and leave the little fellow for me to follow his tottering foot- steps, from one end of the car to the other. Hard job, but I had sworn. At Savannah, Ga., she left the car, for she was at home. And oh, it was a happy part- ing. I received my *' tip " with uncovered head, and wished her long life. During the Winter season, hosts of care-worn souls speed southward, some seeking rest and recreation, but the majority seeking — health. It is either wife or husband, mother, sister or son, whose hacking cough and sunken eyes bespeak the anguish of the sufferer. I saw a mother hastening to her son, who had written : " If you were with me, I think I'd get better." A few trips afterward, a rude box was placed in the baggage car of the north-bound train, and the mother with sadly bowed head, approached the car. The box told the story. The son was "better," for he had found the Summer of eternal rest. So it is ; some re- turn improved, others in their coffins. " Yet still she's weeping, Her lone watch keeping." CHAPTER VI. Going south by the way of the Atlantic Coast Line, the route passes through several States, the scenery of which is most beautiful and inte;:-esting. But nothing shows up to amuse the passenger until the Carolina border is reached. Passing through the Carolinas, the trains are be- sieged at every station by rough-looking youngsters, who are willing to cut up most any kind of caper for a nickel, dime or penny. '' Stand on me head for a cint, boss." " Throw out a nickel for a scramblance, boss." Or, at a given signal, one or two of them will '' stand on me head," their feet spread upward like well-smoked North Carolina hams. At Charleston, the climax is reached. Here the train is besieged by a host of rough-looking mokes, armed with old tambourines, mouth organs, etc., with " Hallelujah chorus " thrown in. For fully twenty minutes, they make the day hideous, while grease-be- smeared mothers stand in the background and shake with delight. Unlike those further North, who are always ready to " Stand on me head for a cint," these are willing to '' Sing one song for yer, boss, ' Annie Eooney dress so fine,' ' Pull fur de sho,' " etc., while all eyes are fastened upon the audience, ready to pounce upon the coin 22 when it drops. Often the leader of the chorus brings the song to a sudden termination by bounding into the air, eager to get the money before it touches the ground. Strange to say, that after leaving the Caro- lina border, not a single boy shows up to make faces^ or dance, etc. The only remaining feature is the tendency of the people to gaze at the passing train. And this is the case everywhere. It matters not how often a train passes, all work in the house, in the office, in the field ^ in the workshop ceases, and all hands rush out. The housewife forgets her cares ; the idle girl her novel ; the cook her kettles and pots. And old and young alike will put on their best looks. The maiden, if there is time, will stop and refix her hair and put on some attractive little wrap or shawl. The old dame will readjust her spectacles. The kitchen maid will roll down her sleeves and bring her snuff brush into a more prominent position, while often the mistress holds hers in her hand, as though in the act of " dip- ping." The dog bristles up and look wise. Every- body gets to the front and poses as if expecting to be photographed. Going West and Northwest there is more to in- terest and instruct the observer. Between Philadelphia and Harrisburg, on the great Pennsylvania Railroad, the most beautiful scenery presents itself. Here the wealthy Philadel- phian has built his magnificent retreat. Cottages of ancient and modern architecture, built of brick, wood, or stone, surrounded by well kept lawns, present a picture simply dazzling. 23 This stone, quarried in the State of Pennsylvania, is of a lovely bluish tint, giving the buildings a rare and rich appearance. Leaving Harrisburg behind us, we plunge into the Alleghany Mountains. The lofty peaks, like sentinels, look down upon the trains. ''Where is the Horseshoe Bend?" is often asked. About fourteen miles west of Altoona, we come into this famous curve, which is just the shape of a great horseshoe. Rounding this curve, the train climbs upward until from near the top of the mount- ain we see, " The awful ^loom beneath us, Like a pathway down to hell." Nearing Pittsburg, we pass through a portion of the mining regions of Pennslyvania, where the fire and smoke from coke ovens, " ascendeth upward, day and night. " "Pittsburg! Twenty minutes ! Out this way." We have reached the great smoky city, with its iron mills and natural gas. After a pause of twenty minutes for refreshments, the train moves on, through tunnels and over moun- tains, until we gaze upon the wide extended plains of Ohio, the richest farming State in the Union. .Passing through Indiana, we find the same level country. And when the border of Illinois is reached, we are in the Western Metropolis, Chicago. Here the porter bids adieu to his passengers and turns his face Eastward. But he fain would linger here. Stroll, perhaps, 24 toward Lincoln Park, and gaze upon the blue waters of Lake Michigan, or visit some of the many places of amusement or entertainment this magic city aftbrds. Unlike New York, Chicago opens many avenues of ad- vancement to the colored citizen. He is not shut out of the fine hotels and cafes as being unfit for service, for most of the leading hotels employ colored help. He has a hand in many things that the average 'New Yorker would think too good for him. He is police- man, detective, mail carrier, clerk, merchant, news- dealer or fireman. It would do one good to see the laddies respond to the call of fire. Black men own saloons and restaurants, the fixtures and furniture alone costing hundreds of dollars. No man need say that he can not get a good sirloin or porterhouse steak, properly served, without going to a white man's cafe. The black citizen has a chance to do work here that in New York would be given to the Italian or the '' Turk. " CHAPTEE VII. Speaking again of beautiful scenery, I would say that next to Shenandoah Valley, of Virginia, that of Western North Carolina is the most interesting. A branch of the Kichmond and Danville Eailroad, which runs through this region, is most complicated in its construction. One can scarcely tell over which portion of the road the train has passed or will pass, as he sees it winding far above or beneath him, seemingly going in an opposite direction to which he is going. Taller than any east of the Eockies, the mountains present an awful, gloomy, and yet grand appearance, as they tower above the clouds. Just before reaching Eound Knob, going West, a close observer will see a little white cross, away up on a small peak. Why it was put there I am unable to say, yet the sight fills one's soul with emotion. Looking westward from Asheville, ** Mt. Pisgah's lofty height " heaves into view, basking in the last rays of the setting sun. Asheville, which is right in these mountains, is quite an interesting little city, being both a Winter and a Summer resort, and also having some very nice and beautifully situated hotels, Kenilworth Inn and Battery Park being the leading. To a person standing upon the neighboring mountains, Asheville would appear to be in a valley. 26 Once, in company with a friend of mine, we climbed up, she holding on to my cane, while I caught hold of twig after twig, until we stood above the clouds and gazed upon the sleeping city below. As we stood there, inhaling the morning air, the song of the mountaineers came fresh to my mind, " We are watchers of a beacon Whose light can never die ; We are guardians of an altar Mid the silence of the sky." In striking contrast to the surroundings, the people of the rural districts of this section are the most ignorant and stupid it has been my lot to meet. Women stand about their cabins with a look of stupidity that would make a savage blush. Stanley could find abundant material here for a book as inter- esting as "Darkest Africa," among his own people. Let those who are chafing about Russian cruelties and the horrors of Siberia visit the convict mines of East Tennessee. Unlike prisons of the North, and West, the chief object of which is to make the prisoner better, these have a tendency to degrade and crush out all the noble attributes that are resident in the victim. For he that has committed a trivial offense is worked beside the thief, the burglar, the murderer. Then again, a long term of service in these mines and on the convict farms of other States as well, leaves the person physically and mentally a wreck, unfit to pursue a legitimate calling, were he so inclined. Can Siberia do worse ? 27 The next city at which we arrive on this route, after leaving Asheville, N. C, going West, is Knox- ville, Tennessee. But I would ask the reader to pass on with me over the East Tennessee Railroad to Chattanooga, which nestles like an infant at the foot of Lookout Mountain, where '' Fighting Joe Hooker " immortalized his name above the clouds. Leaving Chattanooga, over the Cincinnati, New Orleans and Texas Pacific, we move on southward until the distant towers of the grand old city of New Orleans rise plainly to view. We will linger awhile here, for un- like other Southern towns. New Orleans has a de- lightfully fascinating effect upon me, and others, j)er- haps, have felt the same. To hear the people, both white and black, conversing in French, makes one feel as though he were in another country. It is my de- light to stand about the wharves and witness the loading and unloading of the great steamers that plow the waters of the Mississippi, and to listen to the peculiar '' jabber " of the workmen, or stroll through the old French Market, where Indians are often seen squatting about in twos or threes, selling barks and herbs. I have often taken my meals in this market, to save the trouble of looking for a boarding-house. Here the '' Chef, " with a big mus- tache, presides over long, clean tables, with little stools in front of them. I never saw catfish served in so many styles as in this place. It is fried catfish, baked catfish, stewed catfish. Just give your order. I did not believe that this monster scavenger of the rivers could possibly get so popular. 28 Leaving the market, with its filthy surroundings, going eastward, one is soon amid the jostling throng on Canal street, the Broadway of New Orleans, where the show-windows are ablaze with finery of every de- scription. St. Charles comes first as the avenue of fine private residences, after the prevailing Southern style, with wide verandas and beautiful, well-kept flower gardens in front. The streets in this section of the city are paved with asphalt, and are very clean. Here the porter would fain stroll on a balmy summer eve, or within some cheerfully lighted hall, with the beautiful creole belles, . chase the hours away with flying feet, and in the morning, as the city fades from view, wish for another trip to New Orleans. If one should leave the city by another route, the great Louisville and Nashville road, which goes di- rect to Cincinnati, Ohio, he would pass through Mobile, Montgomery, and Birmingham, Ala., the future leading city of the South. But the porter m\ist be alwaj^s on his guard as he passes through this section of country. Perhaps at Bay St. Louis, or some other way station, " General," '' Colonel, "Major," A or B, will honor us with his presence. I have had aboard as many as half a score of these dignitaries. These men have more brains than money. But when it comes to sounding the praise of the *'Blue Bloods," and giving the good- for-nothing ''nigger" his dues, the choice vein of the conversation has been touched. They rattle away for hours on this theme, regardless of your presence. 29 Standing in front of the smoking room of my car one day, I heard the following : " Gen'al, have you heard of the move in Jackson- ville, Florida, to have the appointment of the City Council given to the Legislature ? " *' I have, Kurnel, an' it's a good move. It's the only way to get the up- per hand of the nigger. Porter give me a glass of water. I like a nigger in his place, but when it comes to holding office side a white man, I'fn pint blank against it. Porter give me a match." So thej^ went on, as regardless of my presence as if I had been a dummy, to be wound up and set in motion at will. Why, one of these fellows would stand on my foot a half hour, and never think of apologizing. These peo- ple are continually regretting the state of things and chafing because the good old polite " mammies " and ''uncles" are getting fewer, and in their stead are half- educated " black rascals," who think themselves as good as a " white man." The gall of these people is simply astonishing. Why should not one man feel himself as good as an- other, when he can see in that other no superior qual- ites ? Into what channel shouldmy thoughts naturally go ? Answer one of them direct and to the point, and he will call you an impertinent " nigger." Hold your hat in your hand and say, *'Yes, sah; yes sah!" to every- thing he says, and he will say, " Smart boy that. John, where were you raised? Who was your master?" In listening to their conversation, I found that these people are always looking at the dark side, and 30 contiuually harping on the unworthiness of others. Like the old '' mammy " and '* uncle," old master is tottering toward the setting snn. The nimble and elastic step has given place to the slow and un- certain gait, and as he nears the " brink and shoal of time," he casts one long, lingering look behind, and like the dying Antony, seizes his falchion, makes a pass in the dark, and expires. The property owned by the»e citizens has passed into the hand of strangers. I venture to say that nearly all of the desirable prop- perty in most southern cities is owned by Germans and JewSy people once despised. I have in mind a Ger- man, in the town in w^hich I was raised, worth at least a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, who before the war was publicly cowhided on the streets by a man who to-day would gladly become his clerk. Thus the native Southern white allows that which is desirable to pass into the hands of " Yankees " and foreigners, while his mind is centered upon one thing, '' keeping the nigger in his place." Then, there is another class, called '' crackers,'' who deserve more than a passing thought. At every way station clusters of them are seen sitting about on boxes and barrels, whittling sticks. They go to make up the '" Vigilance Com- mittee,'' and usually tie the rope and lead the victim to the tree. Let the porter be careful how he steps out, for to tread on one's toes would likely touch a button that would set the whole ground in motion. These cowards, murderers and drinkers of blood are not foreigners, they are all born Americans. (?) You 31 could not find a Turk or Arab that would keep them company. They hate the colored man. If he is smartly dressed the aversion is the more intense. ^' Putting on airs. That nigger wants to be brought down a button hole lower." A fellow porter once told me of a young man who went down from Boston to visit friends in Georgia. Securing a horse, one day, he rode a little way into the country. Reining up in front of a "• cracker's " cabin, he engaged some girls who were passing in conversation. A woman sitting in the door heard his Boston pronunciation, and called her husband: ''John! O, John! come here. Look at the nigger knee deep in cowskin, persumin', by G — d." He had his trowsers stuffed into his boot-tops. These people, brave and fearless as they are thought to be, are cowards. There is not one of them who would stand up and fight " on the square," unless he's got his gun, or is sure of assistance. Fifty of them will swarm down like bees upon one man. I have seen bootblacks in New York get into a dispute over some trifle, take off their jackets and fight it out, the defeated one taking his punishment in true Irish style. Not so with these fellows. Give one a thrash- ing and he will muster his family together, surround your house at night, and kill you. As the north bound train slowed up at Kome,Ga., one day two years ago, a young man well known to me, came into my car trembling with fear, and begged piteously to be taken home. He said that he was 32 standing at the bnftet door. The train conductor passed by and said: '' Have you the tickets ? " " No, I have not." '' No, No 1 " '' Is that the way you answer a white man?" ''Beg your pardon, sir; no intentional insult." The conductor said no more, but passed on into the train. The porter thought it was all over, but not so. The conductor soon returned, in company with the baggageman and brakeman, all armed, one with a pistol, one with a huge knife, and the other, the poker. They found the porter dusting out the rear end of his car. Placing the pistol against the poor fellow's head, while his companions made threatening- motions, the leader said : '' We came back here to kill you, you nigger!" The porter yelled "Murder! Help!" This aroused the waiter and Pullman conduc- tor, who were standing on the rear platform. They rushed in and found the poor wretch begging for his life, and persuaded his tormentors to desist. As they departed, the train conductor said, with an oath : " If you didn't look so innocent, I'd kill you. Don't you see that my face is white ? " When you answer a white man, you should say, " yes, sir. " Coward! with not manhood enough to tackle that boy without help. You say it was a joke ? I say no, for if it had not been for the timely inter- ference of the other Pullman men, they would have murdered him, thrown him from the train, and reported it self defense. The papers always explain such oc- currances as '^ desperate negro ! Plucky conductor!''' If a black man is slain, he is a desperado, while his slayer, 33 if white, is a descendant of Lord Baltimore, acting in self defense. I copy from the Courier Journal, of Louisville, Ky., the following : "KILJLED HIS M^N!^^ Lexington, Dec. 24th. About ten o'clock to-night, Albert Harris, a big mulatto farm hand, was drinking in Martin's saloon on Limestone street. He got into a squabble with the bartender, Eobt. Griffin, and invited him outside, saying he would whip him. Griffin was no match for the big negro, but went out in front of the house, and when Harris started for him, he drew his pistol and fired. The bullet struck the negro in the mouth, and he fell dead on the pavement. Griffin went home, where he was arrested a half hour later. The prisoner refused to talk, further than to say he acted in self defense. That is what they call chivalry. '' Go South, young man," I emphasize the words. Here the assassin can play his part in peace and the murderer goes out on hail. The regulator returns from his raids, wipes his bloody hands upon the door of the church, enters and prays, thanking God that a nigger had been killed. There is no place where people lay so much stress upon the word " white " as in the United States, es- pecially in this section. The drunken tramp stalks past the professor of Greek and occupies the choice seat. The Italian, the Turk, the Pole, the Chinaman, the barbarian, soon learns, after being "imported," that there is a certain American citizen who has no rights 34 he should respect. A few days ago, a tall, handsome Englishman boarded the northbound train at Ashe ville, N. C. He did not take passage in the sleeper, but we had with us a lady whom he had met. So at intervals he would come in and chat awhile with her. He was, I thought, very manly. " Beg pardon, sir, hope I do not intrude," he said, once or twice in passing. Just before arriving at Salisbury, some fellows, from a mistaken idea of hospitality, got hold of our English- man and filled him with "Mountain Dew." They made him believe that the best and safest place for his many bags and bundles was in the sleeper. So they brought the whole camping outfit, dumped it in front of the drawing room and disappeared as silently a Arabs, for neither of us could tell who put it there. At Salisbury we waited, expecting some passenger to " show up," identify his baggage and secure his berth, but no one came. At Greenesboro, up comes our Eng- lishman and his friend, as happy as larks. Then we learned to whom the baggage belonged. " Cap'n," said the American, " here's a frien' o' mine goin' to New York. His baggage is in your kyar an' I hope you will see to him. " *^ Yes, chappie," said the Englishman, have me check in me haun'. " Jis give them to the Cap'n," said the other, " an' you'll be all right." " Now, chap- pie, you must u^iderstand that an Englishman knows his business, and is not a fool. I hope I've not insulted you, Cap. ; good night," and the Englishman was minus his friend. The conductor having also disap- 35 peared, his ''Lordship" turned to me and said: "I say, chappie, what time does the Inman steamer sail ? " ''I can't tell you, sir." ''Are you an imbecile? Are you so simple that you cawnt give a man an answer?" " Do you wish a berth, sir ? " " No, I don't want a berth ? " " Well, you will have to get down ; you are disturbing others." " Well, I'd like to see you put me down. It has come to a poor paas when a English- man has to be insulted by a d — d dawky. A black nagur orders me off the car." Just then the conduc- tor came to my relief, and told "milord" that he would have to take charge of his own baggage. It was just my delight to drag it out. I piled it at his feet, and the train pulled out and left him standing there. Our gallant, and polite gentleman, of a few hours previous, was using language of which I thought him incapable. At Rome, we do as the Romans. In the '' Merchant of Venice," Shylock turns to his tor- mentors and says : " Hath not a Jew eyes ? Hath not a Jew ears, feelings, propensities ? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you poison us, do we not die? If you wrong us, shall we not revenge ? " I ask and answer you on the part of the colored citizen. All these will he do, but the last, revenge. For when he considers the strength of the oppressing force, he bows his head in humble submission. Is he wise ? I answer, yes ; for by this he keeps the spear out of his side, while he builds for himself a structure that shall stand to the end of time. 36 When Deborah, the Prophetess, sang the song of triumph, Israel had been in bondage twenty years, during which ''not a sword nor a spear could be found in all the land." These people are without a " sword or a spear,' yet now and then we hear of some Samson or Gideon or Barak who dares strike a blow for freedom. There rode out of Atlanta some time ago a band of mounted men in quest of sport. They halted at the first cabin they came to, and calling out the only in- mate, an old colored man, they loliipped him, only letting up when they saw the blood spurting from his wounds. At the next cabin they met with some re- sistance. For the knight of that castle, hearing the tramping of horses' feet, scented danger, and calling his only child, a girl of fourteen to his aid, with his trusty rifle, calmly awaited his doom. The mob sur- rounded the house and demanded admittance. To their surprise, the door suddenly opened and the hero stepped out, raised his rifle and fired, killing one of their number. Pen cannot fully describe the scene that followed. Maddened by the loss of one of their number, they killed the old man and severed the child's head from her body. The morning sun looked upon a scene ghastly and terrible. There, by the side of his faithful child, lay the hero, smiling even in death. " Leaves cen- turies old had fallen to make a bed like down," that this warrior might lie in state. Brave Leonadas, who dared to strike a blow against fearful odds. Through 37 the leaves of the Georgia pines the winds whisper a requiem over the spot where rest this brave Spartan ^nd his "army." The night, it was dark, yet peaceful and still, Around that negro dwelling ; And he heard the faint cry of the Whip-poor-will, His tale to the mountains telling. His day's work was over, his plow laid aside, His steed had returned to his fodder ; Vh.3 seatiael stars set their watch in the sky. And the wolfs faint bark grew louder. *' Abide with us as the dark shadows fall," Was the prayer of that heart, worn and weary ; *'Be the shepherd Thou wast to the children of old, As they roamed through a land lone and dreary." Angels looked pityingly down from on high. On that sad, bowed head, uld and hoary ; They knew that ere sunlight should gladden the sky, His soul would be mantled in glory. Under cover of darkness from Atlanta that night. Rode a band of white fiends bold and daring ; Bent upon killing the innocent and weak, For justice and right little caring. Let Satan return from earth unto hell. And call back his imps from their revels ; And tell them that deeds done by innocent men, O'ershadow the cunning of devils. Hark ! o'er the hills comes the tramping of feet ; The old man arouses from slumber ; Looks out and behold ! there is wending in sight A band more than fiftv in number. 38 Then rose the bold hero and shouldered his gun^ And called to his aid his brave daughter ; '* Back ! back ! ye white cowards ; we sell our lives deiir^ Just give us a show ere ye slaughter." Not heeding the order, " come out and be whipped/' He raised his old rifle and fired ; The leader, now chilled by the cold hand of death. Soon fell from his horse and expired. You know the story ; for freedom they fell, These Spartans, so brave and so daring ; But yonder in glory they've found it at last, And no one need ask how they're faring. " They ivere lovely and pleasant in their lives and in their death they were not divided. They loere sivifter than eagles ; they were stronger than lions." What is the greatest drawback of this people ? I say, the press of this country. No newspaper pub- lishes anything in praise of them. If a student has graduated with honors, or a physician or lawyer among them has done a deed worthy of commenda- tion, it is whispered, but never gets into print. But let there be a felony committed, and on the first page of the paper will be seen in large letters, '' Bukly Negro!" How cowardly. Let the men see perfection in themselves, for others will not see it in them. Let them see virtue and true womanhood in their own women, for in these attributes the American colored women will compare favorably with those of any other nationality. 39 Compare the two, white and colored. The one lias everything to encourage her. She is flattered and 'Cajoled. Every act is worthy of praise, every crime a mi»stake. The other, her good deeds spoken of with bated breath, her evil deeds the show and gaze of the world. The whitewashed hypocrite who turns his back rather than assist her from a car, waits until night sets in, and '*with Tarquin's ravishing strides, on to his design he speeds like a ghost." He knows her weakness ; it is that of any other w^oman. Wealth is the monarch before whom Poverty casts her shield and broken sword, and he would spend it freely to humiliate her. It seems as if the entire country were a detective, watching the steps of this people, ready to publish to the winds all the evil they do. I was sitting in the ferryboat one morning, going from Jersey City to New York, when there entered a lady, faultlessly gowned. Everything was tastily ar- ranged. She was, indeed, a perfect type of woman- hood. Yet two newly imported asses sat and giggled and whispered till the boat landed and the lady passed out of the saloon. Ask those women the cause of their mirth, and they will say it was a colored woman, and we thought it the best thing to do. There boarded the south-bound train at Philadel- phia, one night, a little girl about ten years of age, having a through ticket direct to St. Augustine, also a letter to all train conductors requesting them to 40 look out for her. She was a comical little thing, with ahead as bare of hair as a boy's. I paid but little attention to her until the following night. The train had stopped on account of a wreck just north of Golds- boro', N. 0. Passing toward the front of my car, I heard loud talking in the coach, and stopping to learn the cause, found that the young men were throwing water on her and otherwise amusing themselves, and in fact everybody on the car, much to her discom- fiture. There sat a car-full of ladies (?) and gentle- men (?) and not a single man or tvoman, for no one said a word in her favor. But I tell you that little creature held her own. With a glass of water in one hand and a shovel in the other, she was like a lion at bay when I entered and told them to desist. I was her slave from that hour, for she had grit enough to build a fort. After that I was constantly beside her, doing all in my power to make her comfortable. She had been taken to New Jersey when four years old, and the good people having decided to go West to live, thought it best to send her home. She was a lovely little thing, with that free, rollicking dis- position, resident only in colored children raised in the North and West. The train being several hours late at Jacksonville, I arranged for her to stop over night with a lady, and, on the following morning, to- gether we went to the ferry, which at that time took passengers bound for St. Augustine across the river. Here my little heroine, loath to leave me, clung about 41 my neck and made me promise that if ever I came to her home, to try and find " Little Sarah," for that is all of her name I remember. VIII. I do not mean by the preceding chapters to im- press the reader with the idea that there are no pleasures in the South land. We find colored people cultured and refined, in spite of odds ; wealthy, in spite of almost insurmountable barriers. In the church, in the school-house, in the dive and dance hall, as well, one can be entertained to one's satisfac- tion. What person can do them justice, who only sees a portion of the rough element that stands about the way stations ? They .are not to be found at such places. These good thinking colored people forego the pleasure or displeasure of a journey by rail, when they consider the humiliation of being hustled about by uniformed lackeys, who say to all colored passen- gers : " That's yo' kyar ; that's yo' kyar." Students going to and returning from college, who are obliged to take such accommodation, are subjected to insult by these lackeys. Even among the most lowly of these Southern colored people can be found that docility which makes a stranger feel at home. At Charleston, one night, I sallied forth with a crowd of light-hearted young men and maidens who were going over to James Island to a ball. I am no dancer, but as my partner insisted, I yielded. Arriving at the 43 house, the fiddler was already on hand ** tunin' up." When the neighbors had all gathered, the old fiddler perched himself upon the back of a chair, his feet resting upon the seat, and said : " Git yer pardners, gem'n. I want you Jeems Island boys to try your- selbs ternight. I doan' want dese Charleston darkeys go home and say yo' can't dance. Yo' bar'foot boy in de corner, da stop whisp'rin' while I talk. You dat got on high heel boot, shoe and tings, don't scrape yo' foot, but go smoothly. Balance all!" So the ball commenced. It seemed as though the young people would never tire, and the old fiddler was patting his foot as vigorously at three A. M. as at nine P. M.. Two evenings afterward found me amid the jost- ling throngs of New York, but with the wailing sound of that violin ringing in my ears. I will not close this, my story, without saying something concerning the great metropolis — ^New York. A few words are all that I can truthfully say, although a resident for over five years. Pass through lower Broadway, with its jostling crowds and immense business activity, or into Fifth Avenue, with its stately mansions, or into Central Park, with its limitless resources for pleasure, recrea- tion, and instruction; climb to the elevator, thunder over the heads of the surging multitudes, back to the City Hall ; walk to the highest point upon the great bridge, and look southward upon the great harbor with its innumerable craft. 44 Then stand at night at the entrance to one of the many magnificent theatres and see the gay, the blithe, the prond, in silken robes ; hear the merry peals of laughter as they enter. To witness all this, one would say truthfully that New York is all that can be desired. But truth is many sided. To go from the New York terminus of the Brooklyn Bridge up Park Eow, through Chatham Square to the Bowery, and turn east or west into the many little crowded streets, one whose eyes have been dazzled by beauty and wealth will find wretchedness and misery indiscribable. Here Magdalene wallows in her sin and shame, curses God, despairs, and dies. Here the rich can provide themselves ^' bags which wax not old." And those who desire to lead perishing souls to Christ can find a wide field. Often, in passing through this portion of New York, have I seen in the gin mills and dives members of that greatest of Christian bands, the Sal- vation Army, struggling to reclaim some fallen woman, some miserable drunkard, who is wasting away body and soul. Also, I have seen the redeemed wretch stand forth before a scoffing multitude and speak boldly of the reedeeming love of Christ. Here the beggar pleads loudly for " two cents to cross the ferry," " ten cents to secure lodgings," etc. This is New York, also ; and to look at this side of the painting. New York is not very desirable. These are a few of my recollections. So, like the beloved Brutus, I ask *'Whom have I offended?" Who is here so base that he does not, wherever he 45 goes, note above all things, that which is to the in- terest of his race. Let him speak, '' for him have I offended." Who is here so vile that would not be an American citizen, with a full enjoyment of a citizen's rights ? Let him now speak, "■ for him have I of- fended." I pause for a rej^lj. None? Then none have I offended. With this I depart. I started out with the in- tention of giving my readers a glimpse at the life of a car service man, and if in this I have failed, I invoke your sympathies and claim your tears. . "Jack Thorne." LOUIS G. BULL06H, mm mmim Jeisey Gltg. BETWEEN Washington and Greene Streets, Glv© 4 ^^m^^i^ + DOAN & PILSON, * 54 MONTGOMERY STREET, £^ i Ut 1 ■^9 V .^'^^ ' .f' V . ADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION * ^ 't 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive fc ^ Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 -* *• (724)779-2111 t^ • .0^"'^,. *^^ 4 C> . . « * ^0' .*'% _^o^ .iv- -> "Pa. a 4 O • . k" "^ a"^ ^i •^..i'- .