Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920 -- Childhood and youth
The deluging which our streets got from these tempests was the only
cleaning which I can recollect seeing them given. There was indeed a
chain-gang which intermittently hoed about in the gutters, but could not
be said to clean them, while it remained the opprobrium of our
civilization. It was made up mostly of negroes, but there were some
drink-sodden whites who dragged a lengthening chain over the dust or
hung the heavy ball which each wore over the hollows of their arms when
urged to more rapid movement. Once I saw, with a peculiar sense of our
common infamy in the sight, a quite well-dressed young man, shackled
with the rest and hiding his face as best he could with eyes fastened on
the ground as he scraped it. Somehow it was told me that he had been
unjustly sentenced to this penalty, and the vision of his tragedy
remains with me yet, as if I had acted his part in it. I dare say it was
not an uncommon experience by which when I used to see some dreadful
thing, or something disgracefully foolish, I became the chief actor in
the spectacle; at least I am certain that I suffered with that hapless
wretch as cruelly as if I had been in his place. Perhaps we are always
meant to put ourselves in the place of those who are put, or who put
themselves, to shame.
Municipal hygiene was then in its infantile, if not in its embryonic
stage, and if there was any system of drainage in Columbus it must have
been surface drainage, such as I saw in Baltimore twenty-five years
later. After the rain the sun would begin again its daily round from
east to west in a cloudless sky where by night the moon seemed to
reflect its heat as well as its light. They must still have such summers
in Columbus, and no doubt the greatest part of the people fight or faint
through them as they do in our cities everywhere, but in those summers
even the good people, people good in the social sense, remained, and not
merely the bad people who justly endured hardship because of their
poverty. I had become accustomed to the more temperate climate of the
Lake Shore, and I felt the heat as something like a personal grievance,
but not the less I kept at work and kept at play like the rest. Once
only I was offered the chance of escape for a few days (it was in the
John Brown year of 1859) when I was commissioned to celebrate the
attractions of a summer resort which had been opened a few hours away
from the capital. I had heard much talk of the coolness of White
Sulphur, as it was called, and I expected much more than I had heard,
but I now got much more than I had expected.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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