He could stay there till h_ll froze over

At the beginning of a new century, Charles W. Chesnutt headed South and visited the Tuskegee Institute and met with W. E. B. Dubois, then visited Atlanta University. He wrote of his experience for the Boston Evening Transcript, which published his account on March 20, 1901 as "The White and the Black." Chesnutt was particularly interested in race relations in the South, now four decades after the Civil War and was researching for a novel. He learned, as he wrote, "The Negroes of the South are not yet free, and social odium at the North is preferred, by many, preferable to the same thing at the South, with oppressive and degrading legal enactments superadded."

But, typical for Chesnutt, even that generalization was too simplified. "I have said that the Southern Negro is not free," he continued. "The same may be said of the Southern white man, for the laws which seek the separation of the races apply to him as well." He notes, for example, that even in the nation's capital passengers on a train have to choose their seat based on their skin color. "A white man is never allowed to forget that he is white; lest he forget, a large sign is fastened at either end of the car, keeping him constantly in mind of the fact."

Though, Chesnutt writes, these social laws were passed with the ideal of equality (or at least claimed to be), it was never possible. Because the "colored" travelers are more often poor and, therefore, their cars are "invariably less comfortable... [and] less ornate." It is the least desirable section and those forced to sit there are "passively submissive to the inevitable."

Of course, Chesnutt questions the train conductor about the practicality of the law. This white man from Virginia ("the old-time mother of presidents and breeder of slaves") insists the law works just fine, and he is happy to enforce it no matter the race. But what if a white-faced man is found in the colored car, Chesnutt asks, and insists he is of African descent?

"I'd let him stay there," replied the conductor, with unconcealed disgust, which seemed almost to include the questioner who could suppose such a case. "Anyone that is fool enough to rather be a nigger than a white man may have his choice. He could stay there till h_ll froze over for all I'd care."

Little did the conductor know that he was talking to a white-faced man of African descent who identified himself as black. Chesnutt also relates the story of a dark-skinned white woman forced to sit in the colored car, despite protests. She promptly sued and won $25,000. Incidentally, the byline on this article when it was published noted it was by the author of "The Wife of His Youth."

Chesnutt: the very best short story

Otelia Cromwell was a graduate of Smith College and the first African American woman to receive a PhD from Yale University (English literature, 1926). Five years later, she was compiling a textbook, eventually titled Negro Readings for Schools and Colleges (some editions list it as Readings from Negro Authors). In February 1931, she contacted Charles W. Chesnutt for permission to use his short story "The Wife of His Youth." Chesnutt responded in a letter dated February 26, 1931:

I think the enterprise is a very worthy one, and I think you have selected for it the very best short story that I have ever written... [I] shall be glad if I shall help to make your worthy venture successful.

Originally published in 1899 in his collection of Stories of the Color Line, "The Wife of His Youth" remains one of Chesnutt's most well-known stories. The story tells of a social organization coincidentally made up of "colored persons" who were "more white than black" (much like Chesnutt himself). The joke was that membership was only granted to those whose skin tone was light enough to show blue veins — hence their nickname, the Blue Vein Society. Mr. Ryder, the de facto leader of the group, organizes a ball with the hope of proposing to a beautiful (and much, much younger) woman. But, just before the event begins, he is visited by a strange, dark-skinned elderly woman, a remnant of the days "before the war."

In typical Chesnutt fashion, the story carefully carves up racism with a scalpel. The most positive qualities recognized in the story are those which make black people seem more white (nearly straight hair, in addition to pale complexion, as well as a prejudice against people who were not born free). The struggle for the black population, including those who were partly white, was to either maintain their separate identity, or fully assimilate into white culture. In presenting this dilemma, Chesnutt also asks the question: Can African Americans ever forget their collective past of enslavement?

Birth of Charles W. Chesnutt

Though he was born in Cleveland, Ohio on June 20, 1858, Charles W. Chesnutt was raised in his parents' home town. His parents were free blacks (both were half-white) from Fayetteville, North Carolina, where his father was a grocer. After continuing his education elsewhere in the state, Chesnutt returned to teach there (he soon became the principal). There, he married and had two children. He soon recognized, however, that he was not easily categorized, lamenting in early 1881 that he was "neither fish, flesh, nor fowl," that he was not truly white nor truly black, nor even mulatto. "Too 'stuck up' for the colored folks, and, of course, not recognized by the whites," he wrote.

Chesnutt was determined to make a name for himself: "I want fame; I want money; I want to raise my children in a different rank of life from that I sprang from." Optimistically, he determined that "literature pays the successful." He moved to New York City for a short time before raising the money to move his family back to Ohio. He began as a court reporter before publishing his first literary work in 1885, "Uncle Peter's House." Like Chesnutt himself, the narrator of the short story is determined to rise in the world.

Ever since abolition left Southern blacks "free" but "destitute," Peter has believed his success will be measured by owning "a two-story white house, with green blinds," much like the master's house on the North Carolina plantation where he was born. After emancipation, Chesnutt writes, "the freed people learned to assume the burdens as well as enjoy the sweets of liberty." After difficulty with procuring land, incurring debt, being taken advantage of by whites, and legal troubles, Peter's dream almost comes true — until a gang of racists burns down the unfinished house, claiming blacks don't deserve two-story homes. In rebuilding, the now-elderly Peter falls off the roof and lies dying. The family calls for a black priest:

"Elder," said Peter faintly to the preacher, "I did n' finish dat house."

"My brudder," said the preacher, "you shall have a better house on de udder sho'."

"Yas, bless de Lo'd," murmured the old man, "a house not made with hands, but etarnal in de hebbens." Then, after a pause, to his younger son, "Primus, it's de las' thing I kin ax yer to do; take care o' yer po' ole mammy, and finish dat house, dat de good Lo'd didn' 'low me to finish."

Chesnutt: the whole race situation

In Wilmington, North Carolina, Charles W. Chesnutt took to the podium to read some of his Stories of the Color Line. His February 14, 1901 reading was the first of several that month throughout the South, mostly North Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama. Chesnutt, an activist for civil rights and a writer of some renown, also used the tour for research for a novel which he published later that year.

The Marrow of Tradition fictionalized the so-called "race riots" in Wilmington in 1898. More than 20 black people were killed in a successful takeover of the town government by white supremacists. At the time, Chesnutt (who was only about 25% black) referred to it as "pure, malignant and altogether indefensible race prejudice." He was particularly disappointed because he believed North Carolina had "superior fairness and liberality in the treatment of race questions."

Feeling the need "to sketch in vivid though simple lines the whole race situation," Chesnutt changed the setting to the fictitious "Wellington." The Marrow of Tradition plot follows two middle-class mulattoes as their first child is born. Though ostracized by Southern society, Chesnutt emphasizes their potential for social good. On the other hand, white characters in the novel begin their plans for takeover:

"Jerry, now, is a very good negro. He's not one of your new negroes, who think themselves as good as white men, and want to run the government. Jerry knows his place, — he is respectful, humble, obedient, and content with the face and place assigned to him by nature."

"Yes, he's one of the best of 'em... He'll call any man 'master' for a quarter, or 'God' for half a dollar... They're all alike, — they're a scrub race, an affliction to the country, and the quicker  we're rid of 'em all the better."

In writing the novel, Chesnutt believed it would be his most important to date and hoped that it "might create sympathy for the colored people of the South in the very difficult position which they occupy." He hoped the book would "become lodged in the popular mind as the legitimate success of Uncle Tom's Cabin... as depicting an epoch in our national history."

*Further reading: Charles W. Chesnutt: Stories, Novels, and Essays (Library of America). Much of the information for this post comes from The Literary Career of Charles W. Chesnutt (1980) by William Andrews.

Chesnutt: Much love and best wishes

Being the son of Charles W. Chesnutt can't be easy. Through short stories, novels, essays, lectures, and biography, Chesnutt explored race issues in the United States. Born in Cleveland, Ohio to two freed black parents, his efforts to improve race relations earned him much respect nationwide and beyond (though, most historians admit he could have easily passed for white). His son Edwin J. Chesnutt became particularly sensitive to racism; after the turn of the century, he tried to escape to Europe.

In one of the earliest letters to his son during that trip, Charles Chesnutt wrote on February 5, 1906: "Have as good a time as you like, within the limits of strict economy, remembering that I am not carrying you, but merely boosting you along." Edwin, a recent Harvard graduate, was having difficulty finding employment.

"We missed you very much for a day or two," Chesnutt's letter continues, "but are getting a little bit adjusted to your absence. The whole family has become wonderfully fond of you since you left... Much love and best wishes."

Less than 20 years later, in 1923, Chesnutt heard that his son's alma mater was trying to exclude blacks from its dormitories and dining halls. A local newspaper in Cleveland reported flippantly about the discrimination. Chesnutt responded to the editor in an angry letter that he expected more from a Cleveland man, "educated in the public schools where he went to school with colored children." The letter, which elicited an apology from the editor, continued:

Colored students have always lived in the dormitories and eaten in the dining halls at Harvard; I have paid the bills of one of them and ought to know. The "living together" and "eating with white folks" involves no more intimacy than life in a hotel, and you know or ought to know that colored men are received as guests at some of the best hotels in Cleveland.