In American literature Mrs. Stowe stands as its chief woman representative before the Civil War, taking high place by right among the novelists whose sphere is the presentation of national life.
CHAPTER XV
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
1819-1892
James Russell Lowell was born on the 22d of February, 1819, at Cambridge, Mass. Fate had willed that he, beyond all other writers, was to preserve a certain phase of Yankee life and make it the treasure of futurity, and the Cambridge of his early boyhood was the best training he could have received for such a mission.
The then unpretentious village, with its quiet streets shaded with elms, lindens, and horse-chestnuts, was revered throughout New England as the home of Harvard College, but it was much more than that. It was a little world in which still lingered all the quaintness and simplicity of early New England life, and Lowell, imbibing these influences unconsciously in childhood, was able afterward to reproduce their flavor in his literary work and thus preserve them from oblivion. The birthplace of Lowell was Elmwood, a charming country-seat formerly occupied by a Tory tax-collector, who had emigrated on the outbreak of the Revolution. It had a large, comfortable house shaded by some of the Cambridge elms, which Lowell characteristically remarks were unable fortunately to emigrate with the tax-collector, and the grounds were beautified by the trees and flowers which were the delight of Dr. Lowell, the poet's father.
In Cambridge streets were to be seen many of the sights characteristic of New England village life, suggesting still the village life of England when Shakespeare was a boy. The coach rumbled on its way to Boston, then a little journey away, and old women gathered around the town spring for their weekly washing of clothes. At the inn were discussed all those questions of law, religion, and politics that had not been settled at the town-meeting, and the village barber-shop, with its choice collection of rarities, had the dignity of a museum. So fascinating was this place that the boy who had to have his hair cut was considered in luck, and was usually accompanied by several of his play-fellows, who took this means of feasting their eyes upon the barber's treasures. Here were tomahawks, Indian bows and arrows, New Zealand paddles and war-clubs, beaks of albatrosses and penguins, and whales' teeth; here were caged canaries and Java sparrows, and one large cockatoo who, the barber asserted, spoke Hottentot. Old Dutch prints covered the walls, and the boys were barbered under the pictured eyes of Frederick the Great and Bonaparte. Perhaps the choicest treasure was the glass model of a ship which the young patrons valued at from one hundred to a thousand dollars, the barber always acquiescing in these generous valuations.
Once a year Cambridge celebrated a curious festival called the Cornwallis, in which, in masquerade, the town's people and country people marched in grotesque processions in honor of the surrender of Cornwallis. There was also the annual muster, when the militia were drilled under the eyes of their admiring wives, mothers, and daughters. But the great event of the year at Cambridge was Commencement Day. The entire community was aroused to do its best in the celebration of this festival, the fame of which had spread to every corner of New England. The village was turned into a great fair, where came every kind of vender and showman to take the places assigned them by the town constable; the gayly decorated booths extended in an orderly row along the streets, and the entire population gaped unrestrained at the giants, fat women, flying horses, dwarfs, and mermaids, only taking their eyes away long enough to regale themselves with the ginger-beer and egg-pop, sold on the stands or wheeled through the streets in hand-carts by the enterprising venders. The college exercises were dignified and grave, as suited the traditions of its classic halls, but to the boys who, like Lowell, had but this one opportunity in the year, the marvels of the booths and peep-shows made Commencement a red-letter day.
Another charm of old Cambridge was found in the river, which to the boyish imagination led to fairy realms beyond. Once a year the sloop Harvard, owned by the college, voyaged to the Maine coast to carry back the winter supply of wood. Her going and coming was an event in the life of the Cambridge schoolboy, who watched the departure with wistful eyes, filled the time of absence with romantic imaginings of adventure in the perilous seas, and welcomed her return with eager thirst for the news she might bring. This humble little craft held no secondary place in the interests of Lowell and his mates. The heroic adventures of her crew inspired the boys to bold ventures on the duck pond, the admiral of the home-made fleet being the young Dana, who delighted an after-generation of boys by the story of his actual adventures at sea in the fascinating book, Two Years Before the Mast.