Celebrate Poe
Celebrate Poe
Sojourn in the South
Welcome to Celebrate Whitman - My name is George Bartley, and this is episode 391 Sojourn in the South.
Greetings,
Hello, Mr. Whitman.
As a Youth, you worked in the printing industry in New York at the Eagle - a connection that lasted throughout 1847. But, as I understand it, you made an extremely memorable shift. Could you tell us about it in your own words?
Certainly, - Now remember - I was the hard-working editor of a publication by the name of the Eagle and “for two yeas had one of the pleasantest sits of my life — a good owner, good pay, and easy work and hours - the workday ended about three every afternoon.. The troubles in the Democratic party broke forth about those times -
:And what time was that?
Ah, between 1848 and 1849. And I split off with the Radicals wing, which led to rows with the boss and 'the party’ and I lost my place. Being now out of a job, I was rather desolute and went to the theatre. It happened that I met a man at the theatre by the name of McClure. He planned to establish a newspaper called the Crescent in New Orleans. By the way, it is said that we met between acts one night in the lobby of the old Broadway Theatre near Pearl Street in New York.
Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Poe.
Walt Whitman - Italics
George Bartley - plain
Welcome to Celebrate Whitman - My name is George Bartley, and this is episode 391 Sojourn in the South.
Greetings, Hello, Mr. Whitman.
As a yhouth, you worked in the printing industry in New York at the Eagle - a connection that lasted throughout 1847. But, as I understand it, you made an extremely memorable shift. Could you tell us about it in your own words?
Certainly, - Now remember - I was the hard-working editor of a publication by the name of the Eagle and “for two yeas had one of the pleasantest sits of my life — a good owner, good pay, and easy work and hours - the workday ended about three every afternoon.. The troubles in the Democratic party broke forth about those times -
:And what time was that?
Ah, between 1848 and 1849. And I split off with the Radicals wing, which led to rows with the boss and 'the party’ and I lost my place. Being now out of a job, I was rather desolute and went to the theatre. It happened that I met a man at the theatre by the name of McClure. He planned to establish a newspaper called the Crescent in New Orleans. By the way, it is said that we met between acts one night in the lobby of the old Broadway Theatre near Pearl Street in New York. And this Mr. McClure was one of the owners of the newspaper. By the way, the daily had a great deal of capital behind it.
How did you feel, Mr. Whitman?
Naturally, I was quite excited - imagine that such an offer would come my way when I needed it most! In fact, the job was offered between acts one and two in the lobby of the Broadway Theatre!
Do you know if there was much capital behind it!
That was the exciting part! The publication DID have a great deal of capital behind it. It is only happenstance that Mr. McClure was visiting the north for the purpose of buying some assorted material.
I am sure that you know that you were quite fortunate.
Yes, - imagine, I entered the theatre that night without employment, made the acquaintance of Mr. McClure, talked for approximately 15 minutes, and Mr. McClure paid me $200 down to bind the contract and bear my expenses to New Orleans to begin a promising position.
So now you had employment in your field of interest.
One factor that was most fortuitous was the reality that the current paper wasn’t to be out for three or four weeks. So therefore I simply relaxed, and enjoyed my journey on my Louisiana venture very much.”
Mr. Whitman, it is good that you did not have the pressure on you to have a paper out within the week!
This is definitely true. And my companion upon the journey was my favorite brother "Jeff," then fifteen years of age. We went by way of Pennsylvania and Virginia, crossing the Alleghenies, and taking a steamer down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers - a distance of 2,400 miles.
Did you have any apprehensions?
I certainly was excited, but on one level the idea of the southern states of the United States were as strange to me as the shores of the Mediterranean to a Londoner.
Oh, Mr. Whitman - I am sure that you were able to fit in immediately.
Yes, - I was most enthusiastic - and constantly amazed by the images I experienced.
Sounds like a fascinating journey.
And the best part was that the Mexican war had just ended, and New Orleans was full of the bustle and color of returning soldiery. In the St. Charles Theatre. I had the opportunity to see General Zachary Taylor :" a jovial, old, rather stout, plain man, with a wrinkled and dark yellow face.”
And I must admit that in my memoranda of my New Orleans experiences, my editorial duties have no mention except that the situation was a rather pleasant one.
But Mr. Whitman, what exactly WERE your duties at the New Orleans Daily Crescent?
Ah, , I was tasked with clipping general news items from other newspapers received in the mail and compiling them to make up the day's edition of the Crescent. I also occasionally contributed original writings, including poems like "The Mississippi at Midnight" published on March 6, 1848, as well as a regular column called "Sketches of the Sidewalks and Levees, With Glimpses into the New Orleans Barooms" where I wrote about characters who I met in the city.
For example, from the sketch "A Characteristic Convocation of Carters" published April 15, 1848, I wrote
"A few rods from the St. Charles hotel, at the corner of Common and Carondelet streets, is a great rendezvous, every morning, of carters with their horse-teams and vehicles of all aquatic and nautical descriptions...It is a society of hard-fisted, weather-beaten 'fellows of the road,' who have very little idea of the supremacy of the law over their own club-usages and regulations.”
And from "A Working Chap's Monologue" published April 22, 1848,
"I'm a working chap, as you see—a stevedore, a porter, a jack-at-all-trades. I make my living by my hands and the sweat of my brow...I've been in New Orleans about three months, and I've seen a good deal of life here.”
Interesting, Mr. Whitman. But what did you think of New Orleans as a city?
Ah, , I quickly came to the conclusion that the New Orleans of 1848 must have been the most romantic and perhaps the most prosperous city in the Union. To me, it was the centre of Western commerce, as well as of Mexican filibustering : its great hotels, the St Charles and the St. Louis, were the rendezvous of planters and merchants, politicians and adventurers, and of the proudest aristocracy in the States. It was a most exciting city, with its Creole women and Spanish men, its dancing and its play, its masks and dominoes, its duels and carnivals ; gay as only an old city can be gay, with a dramatic contrast between age and youth.
Yes, Mr. Whitman, it appears that New Orleans has always been an exciting city.
And there were the Bohemians of New Orleans, the artists, journalists like myself, and actors of a centre of fashion. Opera had found its flrst American home at Kew Orleans, and was presented at the famous Orleans Theatre four times a week.
Mr. Whitman - I know that you were quite an Opera aficionado - a fascinating topic that this podcast will delve into later.
Ah, - And sometimes, in the ceaseless quest for new sensations, I went on Sundays to the old Catholic Cathedral in the French quarter, a district where I was in the habit of promenading.
Just the activity of walking on the streets and observing others engaged in the same activity was most agreeable.
Yes, , but one event definitely made an impression upon my mind and senses. I will always remember regretfully the old French markets on Sunday mornings, where a great mulatto woman used to give me coffee more delicious than I ever drank afterwards. I wrote most affectionately, and with the sensuousness of a naive nature, upon the " exquisite wines," " the perfect and mild French
brandy.” I was also most impressed by the "splendid and roomy and leisurely barrooms" of the St. Charles and St. Louis hotels. I loved to wander upon the levees and to talk with the boatmen.
Apparently, you did enjoy the act of walking it and of itself.
Yes, - I was most definitely influenced by the French literary concept of the flâneur and incorporated it into my poetry and writings about city life. I celebrated the act of leisurely walking and observing the crowds and scenes of the city.
The idea of the flâneur can also be traced back to one of my contemporaries, Edgar Allan Poe. In his short story "The Man of the Crowd" from 1840, he depicts an anonymous narrator who spends an evening following and observing a particular man through the streets of London.
May I quote from the story?
Certainly. Please proceed with an excerpt from Mr. Poe’s tale.
As the night deepened, so deepened to me the interest of the scene; for not only did the general character of the crowd materially alter (its gentler features retiring in the gradual withdrawal of the more orderly portion of the people, and its harsher ones coming out into bolder relief, as the late hour brought forth every species of infamy from its den,) but the rays of the gas-lamps, feeble at first in their struggle with the dying day, had now at length gained ascendancy, and threw over every thing a fitful and garish lustre. All was dark yet splendid.
The wild effects of the light enchained me to an examination of individual faces; and although the rapidity with which the world of light{g} flitted before the window, prevented me from casting more than a glance upon each visage, still it seemed that, in my then peculiar mental state, I could frequently read, even in that brief interval of a glance, the history of long years.
With my brow to the glass, I was thus occupied in scrutinizing the mob, when suddenly there came into view a countenance (that of a decrepid old man, some sixty-five or seventy years of age,) — a countenance which at once arrested and absorbed my whole attention, on account of the absolute idfosyncracy of its expression. Any thing even remotely resembling that expression I had never seen before. I well remember that my first thought, upon beholding it, was that the. Fiend had he viewed it, would have greatly preferred it to his own pictural incarnations of the fiend. him. Hurriedly putting on an overcoat, and seizing my hat and cane, I made my way into the street, and pushed through the crowd in the direction which I had seen him take; for he had already disappeared. With some little difficulty I at length came within sight of him, approached, and followed him closely, yet cautiously, so as not to attract his attention.
So in summary, the French term "flâneur" refers to the practice of walking around the city as an observer and experiencing urban life, a concept popularized by 19th century French writers that influenced American authors such as Edgar Allan Poe and myself. But please excuse me, I digress.
That is fine, Mr. Whitman.
Sometimes something seems to overcome my being, and my emotions control me.
No need to apologize, Mr. Whitman.
But do allow me to continue - During the three months of my stay. I attempted to see New Orleans thoroughly. As I believe I have said, often on Sunday mornings I would go to the cathedrals. I frequented the huge barrooms of the two hotels, where most of the business of the city seems at that time to have been transacted; and then there was the French Market - where a stout mulatto woman stood with her shining copper kettle. There all
the races of the world seemed to be gathered to idle or to bargain.
So it seems that you have learned to really enjoy the town of New Orleans - and you had only been there for several months.
Yes, - unfortunately, reality interfered. You see, after a few months my brother"Jeff" grew homesick and found the climate unfavorable. I was extremely devoted to Jeff and realized that the climate with its malarial tendencies did not suit him. And I had always been especially devoted to my young brother, who had been my companion on many a Long Island holiday. Others have written that due to a contentious relationship with the owners of the Crescent, I resigned on 25 May. In any case, my brother and I returned to New York.
We took passage northward by a Mississippi steamer, and made a roundabout journey homeward by way of Chicago and the Great Lakes, stopping at Niagara Falls, and finally reaching New York in June.
Mr. Whitman, did you feel the journey to New Orleans changed you?
Ah, most definitely. The sojourn in the South and the glimpse of what was then the West widened my outlook in many ways, and confirmed in me in pride of American nationality. If a man is at heart a nomad it makes little difference to him whether he wanders over a Concord pasture, returning to his home at nightfall, or gazes upon the Father of Waters and upon our vast inland seas. But for my future role of poetic interpreter of American life in its totality, the long journey away from Manhattan was extremely significant.
Mr. Whitman - it sounds like you are saying that there were other changes in you, too, that must now be noticed, — new horizons opening in your inner life.
Yes, - in summary, I had been away from home four months, had travelled thousands of miles, and had made acquaintance with seventeen of the States of the Union. In New Orleans I had learnt the meaning of the South, from St. Louis I had looked into the new West while in Indiana, Wisconsin, Michigan, and the coasts of Ontario, I had seen the rich cornIands of the Northwest under their first tillage. And I had felt the meaning of the Mississippi, that great river whose tributaries, from the Alleghanies to the Rockies, drain and fertilize half the arable land of America. I came home filled with a true sense of my American citizenship. It was years before I feel that my feelings truly found expression through a body of words that were to take possession of my life.
Thank you, Mr. Whitman. And those feelings have made all the difference.
I quite concur, Mr. Bartley. Farewell until the next podcast episode.
Goodbye Mr. Whitman.
Join celebrate Poe for episode 392 I Sing the Body Electric
Sources include: The Complete Works of Walt Whitman, especially Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, From Noon to Starry Night: A Life of Walt Whitman by Ivan R. Dee, Walt Whitman: A Life by Justin Kaplan, Walt Whitman: The Song of Himself by Jerome Loving, and Walt Whitman by James E. Miller.
Thank you for listening to celebrate Poe.
