Part 1 (1/2)

Walking-Stick Papers.

by Robert Cortes Holliday.

FOREWORD

These little records of some excursions made by what Mr. James called ”a visiting mind” first saw the light of public countenance in the pages of various publications. ”On Going to Art Exhibitions” has been much expanded since its appearance in _Vanity Fair_. In _The Unpopular Review_ the original t.i.tle of ”That Reviewer 'Cuss'” was brought into harmony with the dignity of its setting by being changed to ”The Hack Reviewer.” ”A Clerk May Look at a Celebrity” was printed in the New York _Times_ under the head ”Glimpses of Celebrities.” This paper has been included in this collection at the request of several distinguished gentlemen who have been so unfortunate as to lose their newspaper clippings of the article. That several of the personages figuring in this and one or two other of these papers have pa.s.sed away since these papers were written seems to be thought an additional reason for reprinting these essays here. _The Bellman_ fell for ”Caun't Speak the Language”; the New York _Tribune_, ”Humours of the Bookshop”; _The Independent_, ”Reading After Thirty,” ”You Are an American” appeared in the New York _Sun_; where the head ”An American Reviewer in London” was subst.i.tuted for the t.i.tle of ”Literary Levities in London.” The following papers were contributed to the New York _Evening Post_: ”The Fish Reporter,” ”On Going a Journey,” ”A Roundabout Paper,” ”Henry James, Himself,” ”Memories of a Ma.n.u.script,”

”Why Men Can't Read Novels by Women,” ”The Dessert of Life,” ”Hunting Lodgings,” ”My Friend, the Policeman,” ”Help Wanted,” ”Human Munic.i.p.al Doc.u.ments,” ”As to People,” ”A Town Const.i.tutional,” and ”On Wearing a Hat.” ”On Carrying a Cane” appeared in _The Bookman_. I thank the editors of the publications named for permission to reprint these papers here. R. C. H.

New York, 1918.

PROLOGUE

ON CARRYING A CANE

Some people, without doubt, are born with a deep instinct for carrying a cane; some consciously acquire the habit of carrying a cane; and some find themselves in a position where the matter of carrying a cane is thrust upon them.

Canes are carried in all parts of the world, and have been carried--or that which was the forefather of them has been carried--since human history began. Indeed, a very fair account of mankind might be made by writing the story, of its canes. And nothing that would readily occur to mind would more eloquently express a civilisation than its evident att.i.tude toward canes. Perhaps nothing can more subtly convey the psychology of a man than his feeling about a cane.

The prehistoric ape, we are justified in a.s.suming, struggled upright upon a cane. The cane, so to speak, with which primitive man wooed his bride, defended his life, liberty and pursuit of happiness, and brought down his food, was (like all canes which are in good taste) admirably chosen for the occasion. The spear, the stave, the pilgrim's staff, the sword, the sceptre--always has the cane-carrying animal borne something in his hand. And, down the long vista of the past, the cane, in its various manifestations, has ever been the mark of strength, and so of dignity. Thus as a man originally became a gentleman, or a king, by force of valour, the cane in its evolution has ever been the symbol of a superior caste.

A man cannot do manual labour carrying a cane. And it would be a moral impossibility for one of servile state--a butler, for instance, or a ticket-chopper--to present himself in the role of his occupation ornamented with a cane. One held in custody would not be permitted to appear before a magistrate flaunting a cane. Until the stigma which attaches to his position may be erased he would be shorn of this mark of n.o.bility, the cane.

Canes are now carried mostly by the very youthful and the very aged, the powerful, the distinguished, the patrician, the self-important, and those who fancy to exalt themselves. Some, to whom this privilege is denied during the week by their fear of adverse public opinion, carry canes only on Sundays and holidays. By this it is shown that on these days they are their own masters.

Custom as to carrying canes varies widely in different parts of the world; but it may be taken as a general maxim that the farther west you go the less you see of canes. The instinct for carrying a cane is more natural in old civilisations, where the tradition is of ancient growth, than in newer ones, where frequently a cane is regarded as the sign of an effete character. As we have been saying, canes, we all feel, have an affinity with the idea of an aristocracy. If you do not admit that the idea of an aristocracy is a good one, then doubtless you are down on canes. It is interesting to observe that canes have flourished at all especially chivalrous periods and in all especially chivalrous communities. No ill.u.s.trator would portray a young planter of the Old South without his cane; and that fragrant old-school figure, a southern ”Colonel,” without his cane is inconceivable. Canes connote more or less leisure. They convey a subtle insinuation of some degree of culture.

They always are a familiar article of a gentleman's dress in warm climates. The cane, quite strictly speaking, in fact has its origin in warm countries. For properly speaking, the word cane should be restricted in its application to a peculiar cla.s.s of palms, known as ratans, included under the closely allied genera _Calamus_ and _Daemonorops_, of which there are a large number of species. These plants, the Encyclopedia tells us, are found widely extended throughout the islands of the Indian Archipelago, the Malay Peninsula, China, India and Ceylon; and examples have also been found in Australia and Africa. The learned Rumphius describes them, under the name of _Palmijunci_, as inhabitants of dense forests into which the rays of the sun scarce can penetrate, where they form spiny bushes, obstructing the pa.s.sage through the jungle. They rise to the top of the tallest trees and fall again so as to resemble a great length of cable, adorned, however, with the most beautiful leaves, pinnated or terminating in graceful tendrils. The plants creep or trail along to an enormous length, sometimes, it is said, reaching five hundred feet.

Two examples of _Calamus verus_, measuring respectively two hundred and seventy feet and two hundred and thirty feet, were exhibited in the Paris exhibition of 1855.

The well-known Malacca canes are obtained from _Calamus Scipionum_, the stems of which are much stouter than is the case with the average species of _Calamus_. Doubtless to the vulgar a Malacca cane is merely a Malacca cane. There are, however, in this interesting world choice spirits who make a cult of Malacca canes, just as some dog fanciers are devotees of the Airedale terrier. Such as these know that inferior Malacca canes are, as the term in the cane trade is, ”shaved”; that is, not being of the circ.u.mference most coveted, but too thick, they have been whittled down in bulk. A prime Malacca cane is, of course, a natural stem, and it is a nice point to have a slight irregularity in its symmetry as evidence of this. The delicious spotting of a Malacca cane is due to the action of the sun upon it in drying. As the stems are dried in sheaves, those most richly splotched are the ones that have been at the outside of the bundle. What new strength to meet life's troubles, what electric expansion of soul, come to the initiated upon the feel of the vertebra of his Malacca cane!

The name of cane is also applied to many plants besides the _Calamus_, which are possessed of long, slender, reed-like stalks or stems, as, for instance, the sugar-cane, or the reed-cane. From the use as walking-sticks to which many of these plants have been applied, the name cane has been given generally to ”sticks” irrespective of the source from which they are derived.

Our distinguished grandfathers carried canes, frequently handsome gold-headed ones, especially if they were ministers. Bishops, or ”Presiding Elders;” when, in those mellow times, it was the custom for a congregation to present its minister with a gold-headed cane duly inscribed. Our fathers of some consequence carried canes of a gentlemanly pattern, often ones with ivory handles. Though in the days when those of us now sometime grown were small one had to have arrived at the dignity of at least middle-age before it was seemly for one to carry a cane. In England, however, and particularly at Eton, it has long been a common practice for small aristocrats to affect canes.

The dandies, fops, exquisites, and beaux of picturesque and courtly ages were, of course, very partial to canes, and sometimes wore them attached to the wrist by a thong. It has been the custom of the Surgeon of the King of England to carry a ”Gold Headed Cane.” This cane has been handed down to the various inc.u.mbents of this office since the days of Dr. John Radcliffe, who was the first holder of the cane. It has been used for two hundred years or more by the greatest physicians and surgeons in the world, who succeeded to it. ”The Gold Headed Cane” was adorned by a cross-bar at the top instead of a k.n.o.b.

The fact is explained by Munk, in that Radcliffe, the first owner, was a rule unto himself and possibly preferred this device as a mark of distinction beyond the k.n.o.b used by physicians in general. Men of genius now and then have found in their choice of a cane an opportunity for the play of their eccentricity, such a celebrated cane being the tall wand of Whistler. Among the relics of great men preserved in museums for the inspiration of the people canes generally are to be found. We have all looked upon the cane of George Was.h.i.+ngton at Mount Vernon and the walking-stick of Carlyle in Cheyne Walk. And is each not eloquent of the man who cherished it?

Freak canes are displayed here and there by persons of a pleasantly bizarre turn of mind: canes encased in the hide of an elephant's tail, canes that have been intricately carven by some Robinson Crusoe, or canes of various other such species of curiosity. There is a veteran New York journalist who will be glad to show any student of canes one which he prizes highly that was made from the limb of a tree upon which a friend of his was hanged. In our age of handy inventions a type of cane is manufactured in combination with an umbrella.

Canes are among the useful properties of the theatre. He would be a decidedly incomplete villain who did not carry a cane. Imaginative literature is rich in canes. Who ever heard of a fairy G.o.dmother without a cane? Who with any feeling for terror has not been startled by the tap, tap of the cane of old Pew in ”Treasure Island”? There is an awe and a pathos in canes, too, for they are the light to blind men.

And the romance of canes is further ill.u.s.trated in this: they, with rags and the wallet, have been among the traditional accoutrements of beggars, the insignia of the ”dignity springing from the very depth of desolation; as, to be naked is to be so much nearer to the being a man, than to go in livery.” J. M. Barrie was so fond of an anecdote of a cane that he employed it several times in his earlier fiction. This was the story of a young man who had a cane with a loose k.n.o.b, which in society he would slyly shake so that it tumbled off, when he would exclaim: ”Yes, that cane is like myself; it always loses its head in the presence of ladies.”

Canes have figured prominently in humour. The Irishman's s.h.i.+llelagh was for years a conspicuous feature of the comic press. And there will instantly come to every one's mind that immortal pa.s.sage in ”Tristram Shandy.” Trim is discoursing upon life and death:

”Are we not here now, continued the Corporal (striking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea of health and stability)--and are we not (dropping his hat upon the ground) gone!

in a moment!--'Twas infinitely striking! Susannah burst into a flood of tears.”