The Conquest: The Story of a Negro Pioneer

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  EAST OF STATE STREET

  I had in due time heard from Orlean saying she and Mrs. Ewis had arrivedsafely home. She wrote: "When I came into the house mama grabbed me andheld me for a long time as though she was afraid I was not real. She hadbeen so worried while I was away and was so glad I had returned beforefather came." They had received a telegram from her father saying thathe had again been appointed presiding elder of the Cairo district andwould be home within a few days.

  I judged from what Mrs. Ewis had told me that the Reverend was not muchof a business man and a hard one to make understand a businessproposition or to reason with. He had only two children, and Orlean, asMrs. Ewis informed me, was his favorite. She had always been an obedientgirl, was graduated from the Chicago high school and spent two years ata colored boarding school in Ohio that was kept up by the African M.E.Church, had taught two years, but had not secured a school that year.

  She had saved a hundred dollars out of the money she had earned teachingschool. The young man who married her sister worked for a trading-stampcorporation and received thirteen dollars a week, while the Reverend wassupposed to receive about a thousand dollars a year as presiding elder.There were some twelve or fifteen churches on his circuit, wherequarterly conference was held every three months, and each church wasexpected to contribute a certain amount at that time. Each member wassupposed to give twenty-five cents, which they did not always do.

  In a town like M--boro, for instance, where the church had one hundredmembers, not over twenty-five are considered live members; that is, onlytwenty-five could be depended upon to pay their quarterly duesregularly, the others being spasmodic, contributing freely at times ornothing at all for a long time.

  Orlean often laughed as she told me some of the many ways her father hadof making the "dead ones" contribute, but with all the tricks and turnsthe position was not a lucrative one, there being no certainty as to theamount of the compensation. Mrs. Ewis told me the family had always beenpoor and got along only by saving in every direction. I could see thisas Orlean seemed to have few clothes and had worn her sister's hat toDakota.

  Her sister was said to be very mean and disagreeable, and if anyone inthe family had to do without anything it was never the sister. She wasquarrelsome and much disliked while Orlean was the opposite and wouldcheerfully deprive herself of anything necessary. Her mother, Mrs. Ewiswent on to tell me, was a "devil, spiteful and mean and as helpless as ababy." I believed a part of this but not all. I had listened to Mrs.McCraline, and while I felt she was somewhat on the helpless order, Idid not believe she was mean, nor a "devil." Meanness and deviltry areusually discernible in the eyes and I had seen none of it in the eyesof either Mrs. McCraline or Orlean, but I did not like Ethel, and fromwhat little Miss Ankin told me about the Reverend I was inclined tobelieve that he was likely to be the "devil," and Mrs. Ewis' informationregarding Mrs. McCraline was probably inspired by jealousy.

  I remembered that back in M--pls the preachers' wives were timidcreatures, submissive to any order or condition their "elder" husbandsput upon them, submitting too much in order to keep peace, never raisinga row over the gossip that came to their ears from malicious "sisters"and church workers. As long as I could remember the colored ministerswere accused of many ugly things concerning them and the "sisters,"mostly women who worked in the church, but I had forgotten it until Inow began hearing the gossip concerning Rev. McCraline.

  Orlean, her father and her brother-in-law had begun buying a home onVernon avenue for which they were to pay four thousand, five hundreddollars. Of this amount three hundred dollars had been paid, one hundredby each of them. It was a nice little place, with eight rooms and with astone front. Ethel had not paid anything, using her money in preparationfor her wedding, which had taken place in September. Claves and herfather had spent two hundred on it, which seemed very foolish, and werepinched to the last cent when it was done.

  Claves had borrowed five dollars from his brother when they went on thewedding trip, to pay for a taxi to the depot. The wedding tour andhoneymoon lasted two weeks and was spent in Racine, Wisconsin, sixtymiles north of Chicago. They had just returned when I went to Chicago.When I first called, Mrs. Claves did not come down but when we returnedto the house she condescended to come down and shake hands. She put onenough airs to have been a king's daughter.

  With the three hundred dollars already paid on the home, they figuredthey should be able to pay for it in seven years in monthly installmentsof thirty-five dollars, paying the interest upon the principal at thesame time, excepting two thousand which was in a first mortgage and drewfive per cent and payable semi-annually. The house was in a quietneighborhood much unlike the south end of Dearborn street and Armouravenue where none but colored people live.

  The better class of Chicago's colored population was making a strenuouseffort to get away from the rougher set, as well as to get out of theblack belt which is centered around Armour, Dearborn, State andThirty-first. Here the saloons, barbershops, restaurants and vaudevilleshows are run by colored people, also the clubs and dance houses. Eastfrom State street to the lake, which is referred to by the coloredpeople of the city as "east of State," there is another and altogetherdifferent class. Here for a long while colored people could hardly rentor buy a place, then as the white population drifted farther south, toGreenwood avenue, Hyde Park, Kenwood and other parts now fashionabledistricts, some of the avenues including Wabash, Rhodes, Calumet, Vernonand Indiana began renting to colored people and a few began buying.

  Chicago is the Mecca for southern negroes. The better class continued todesert Dearborn and Armour and paid exorbitant rent for flats east ofState street. Some lost what they had made on Armour avenue where rentwas sometimes less than one-half what was charged five blocks east, andhad to move back to Armour. As more colored people moved toward the lakemore white people moved farther south, rent began falling and realestate dealers began offering former homes of rich families first forrent then for sale, and many others began buying as Rev. McCraline haddone, making a small cash payment, and in this way otherwise unsalableproperty was disposed of at from five to ten per cent more than it wouldhave brought at a cash sale.

  The place they were buying could have been purchased for three thousand,eight hundred dollars or four thousand dollars in cash. After movingeast of State street, these people formed into little sets whichrepresented the more elite, and later developed into a sort of localaristocracy, which was not distinguished so much by wealth as by theairs and conventionality of its members, who did not go to public danceson State street and drink "can" beer. Here for a time they were securefrom the vulgar intrusion of the noisy "loud-mouths," as they calledthem, of State street. The last time I was in Chicago State street, the"dead line," had been crossed and a part of Wabash avenue is almost asnoisy and vulgar as Dearborn. Beer cans, rough clubs and dudes werebecoming as familiar sights as on Armour, and a large part of that partof the east side is so filled up with colored people that it is only aquestion of time until it will be a part of the black belt.

  Orlean's brother-in-law had come to Chicago several years previous froma stumpy farm in the backwoods of Tennessee. He was the son of ajack-legged preacher and was very ignorant, but had been going with thegirl he married some six years and she had trained him out of much of itand when he finally figured in the two hundred dollar wedding referredto, he felt himself admitted into society and highly exalted. He thoughtthe Reverend a great man, Mrs. Ewis had told me, referring to him as aSimian-headed negro who tried to walk and act like the Reverend. TheMcCralines, especially Ethel, referred to themselves as the "bestpeople." I thought they were. They were not wicked, and I also guessedthat Ethel felt very "aristocratic," and I wondered whether I would likethe Reverend. He seemed to be regarded as a sort of monarch judging fromthe way he was spoken of by the family, but I had a "hunch" that he andI were not going to fall in love with each other. Still I hoped not tobe the one to start any unpleasantness an
d would at least wait until Imet him before forming an opinion. I received a letter from him when hereturned from the conference. He did not write a very brilliant letterbut was very reasonable, and tried to appear a little serious when hereferred to my having his daughter come to South Dakota and file onland. He concluded by saying he thought it a good thing for coloredpeople to go west and take land.

  I received another letter from Orlean about the same time telling mehow her father had scolded her about going to the theatre with me theSunday night I had taken her, and pretended, as he had to me, to be veryserious about the claim matter, but she wrote like this: "I know papa,and I could see he was just pleased over it all that he just struttedaround like a rooster." She wanted to know when I was going to send thering, but as I had not thought about it I do not recall what answer Imade her, but do remember that my trip to get her and Mrs. Ewis and sendthem home again, including my own expenses, amounted to one hundredsixty dollars, besides the cost of the land, and having had to pay mysister's and grandmother's way also and get them started on theirhomesteads had taken all of the seven thousand, six hundred dollars Ihad borrowed on my land; that I was snow-bound with my corn in the fieldand my wheat still unthreshed. I began to write long letters trying toreason this out with her. She was willing to listen to reason but seemedso unhappy without the ring, and I imagined as I read her letters that Icould see tears. She said when a girl is engaged she feels lost withouta ring, "and, too," here she seemed to emphasize her words, "everybodyexpects it." I was sure she was telling the truth, for with girls "eastof State street," and west as well, the most important thing in anengagement is the ring, sometimes being more important than the manhimself.

  When I lived in Chicago and since I had been living in Dakota and goingto Chicago once a year, I knew that Loftis Brothers had more mortgageson the moral future and jobs of the young society men, for the diamondsworn by their sweethearts or wives, than would appear comforting to thecredit man. It made no difference what kind of a job a man might have,as all the way from a boot-black or a janitor to head waiters andpost-office clerks were included, and their women folks wore some sizeof a diamond. I asked myself what I was to do. I could not hope to beginchanging customs, so I bought a forty dollar diamond set in a smalleighteen-karat ring which "just fit," as she wrote later in the sweetestkind of a letter.

  I had written I was sorry that I could not be there to put it on (such astory!). I had never thought of diamond rings or going after my wifeafter spending so much on preliminaries. What I had pictured was what Ihad seen, while running to the Pacific coast, girls going west to marrytheir pioneer sweethearts, who sent them the money or a ticket. They hadgone, lots of them, to marry their brawny beaux and lived happily "everafter," but the beaux weren't negroes nor the girls colored. Still thereare lots of colored men who would be out west building an empire, andplenty of nice colored girls who would journey thither and wed, if theyreally understood the opportunities offered; but very few understand thesituation or realize the opportunities open to them in this westerncountry.

  I had expected to get married Christmas but the snow had put a stop tothat plan. Besides, I was so far behind in my work and had no place tobring my wife. I had abandoned my little "soddy" and was living in ahouse on the old townsite, where I intended staying until spring. Then Iwould build and move onto my wife's homestead in Tipp county. WhenChristmas came grandma and sister came down from Ritten and stayed whileI went to Chicago. I could scarcely afford it but it had become a customfor me to spend Christmas in Chicago and I wanted to know Orlean betterand I wanted to meet her father. I had written her that I wasn't comingand when I arrived in the city and called at the house her mother wassurprised, but pleasantly. I thought she was such a kind little soul.She promised not to tell Orlean I was in the city, (Orlean had secured aposition in a downtown store--ladies' furnishings--and receivedfive-fifty per week) but couldn't keep it and when I was gone she calledup Orlean and told her I was in the city. When I called in the evening,instead of surprising Orlean, I was surprised myself. The Reverendhadn't arrived from southern Illinois but was expected soon.

  Orlean had worked long enough to buy herself a new waist and coat, andMrs. Ewis, who was a milliner, had given her a hat, and she was dressedsomewhat better than formerly. The family had wanted to give her a nicewedding, like Ethel's, but found themselves unable to do so. Thesemiannual interest on their two-thousand-dollar loan would be due inJanuary and a payment also, about one hundred and fifty dollars in all.The high cost of living in Chicago did not leave much out of eighteendollars and fifty cents per week, and colored people in southernIllinois are not very prompt in paying their church dues, especially inmid-winter; in fact, many of them have a hard time keeping away fromthe poorhouse or off the county, and when the Reverend came home he wasvery short of money.

  As the people were now all riding in autos. (Page 182.)]

  I remember how he appeared the evening I called. He had arrived in townthat morning. He was a large man standing well over six feet and weighedabout two hundred pounds, small-boned and fleshy, which gave him around, plump appearance, and although he was then near sixty not awrinkle was visible in his face. He was very dark, with a mediumforehead and high-bridged nose, making it possible for him to wearnose-glasses, the nose being very unlike the flat-nosed negro. The largesquare upper-lip was partly hidden by a mustache sprinkled with gray,and his nearly white hair, worn in a massive pompadour, contrastedsharply with the dark skin and rounded features. His great height gavehim an unusually attractive appearance of which he, I later learned, waswell aware and made the most. In fact, his personal appearance was hispride, but his eye was not the eye of an intelligent or deep thinkingman. They reminded me more of the eyes of a pig, full butexpressionless, and he could put on airs, such a drawing-up andspreading-out, seeming to give the impression of being hard to approach.

  When introduced to him I had another "hunch" we were not going to likeeach other. I was always frank, forward and unafraid, and hisceremonious manner did not affect me in the least. I went straight tohim, taking his hand in response to the introduction and saying a fewcommon-place things. They were very home-like for city people, invitingme to supper and treating me with much respect. The head of the tablewas occupied by the Reverend when he was at home and by Claves when theReverend was away. I could readily see where Ethel got her airs. It tookhim about thirty minutes to get over his ceremonious manner, after whichwe talked freely, or rather, I talked. He was a poor listener and,although he never cut off my discourse in any way, he didn't listen as Ihad been used to having people listen, apparently with encouragement intheir eyes, which makes talking a pleasure, so I soon ceased to talk.This, however, seemed still more awkward and I grew to feel a trifledispleased in his company.

  On the following Sunday we went to morning service on Wabash avenue at abig stone structure. It appeared to be a rule of the household that thegirls should go out together. This displeased me very much, as I hadgrown to dislike Ethel and Claves did not interest me. Both talked ofsociety and "swell people" they wanted me to meet, putting it in such away as to have me feel I was meeting my betters, while the truth of thematter was that I did not desire to meet any of their friends nor tohave them with us anywhere we went. When church services were over wewent to spend the time before Sunday School opened, with some friends oftheirs named Latimer, who lived on Wabash avenue near the church, andwho were so nearly white that they could easily have passed for whitepeople.

  The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Latimer and Mr. Latimer's sister,and were the most interesting people I had ever met on any of my tripsto Chicago. They inquired all about Dakota and whether there were manycolored settlers in the state, listening to every word with carefulattention and approving or disapproving with nods and smiles. While theywere so deeply interested, Claves, who had a reputation for "butting in"and talking too much, interrupted the conversation, blurting out hisopinion, stopping me and embarrassing them, by stating that coloredpeo
ple had been held in slavery for two hundred years and since theywere free they did not want to go out into the wilderness and sit on afarm, but wanted to be where they could have freedom and convenience,and this was sanctioned by a friend of Claves's who was still moreignorant than he. This angered Orlean and when we were outside evenEthel expressed her disgust at Claves' ignorance.

  They told me that the Latimers were very well-to-do, owning considerableproperty besides the three-story building where they lived. To me thisaccounted for their careful attention, for it is my opinion that whenyou find a colored man or woman who has succeeded in actually doingsomething, and not merely pretending to, you will find an interestingand reasonable person to converse with, and one who will listen to adescription of conditions and opportunities with marked intelligence.

  Orlean and I attended a few shows at the downtown theatres during theweek, the first being a pathetic drama which our friends advised us tosee entitled "Madam X". I did not like it at all. The leading characteris the wife of a business man who has left her husband and remains awayfrom him two years, presumably discouraged over his lack of affection;is very young and wants to be loved, as the "old story" goes, and thehusband is too busy to know that she is unhappy. She returns after twoyears and asks forgiveness and love, but is turned away by the husband.Twenty years later, in the closing act, a court scene decorates thestage; a woman is on trial for killing the man she has lived withunlawfully. She had been a woman of the street and lived with manyothers before living with the one murdered. The young lawyer who has hercase, is her son, although he is not aware of this fact. He has justbeen admitted to the bar and this is his first case, having beenappointed to the defense by the court. He takes the stand and deliversan eloquent address on behalf of the woman, who appears to be sosaturated with liquor and cocaine as to be quite oblivious of hersurroundings. She expires from the effect of her dissipations, but justbefore death she looks up and recognizes her son, she having been theyoung wife who left her home twenty-two years before. The unhappyfather, who had suffered as only a deserted husband can and who hadprayed for many years for the return of the wife, is present in thecourt room and together with the son, are at her side in death. As theclimax of the play is reached, suppressed sobs became audible in thebalcony, where we had seats. The scene was pathetic, indeed, and I hadhard work keeping back the tears while my betrothed was using herhandkerchief freely.

  What I did not like about the play was the fact of her going away andtaking up an immoral life instead of remaining pure and returning laterto her husband. The husband, as the play goes, had not been a bad manand was unhappy throughout the play, and I argued this with Orlean allthe way home. Why did she not remain good and when she returned he couldhave gathered her into his arms and "lived happy ever after." Not onlymy fiancee but most other women I have talked with about the playcontend that he could have taken her back when she returned and beengood to her. The man who wrote the play may have been a tragedian butthe management that put it on the road knew a money-maker and kept itthere as long as the people patronized the box office.

  The next play we attended suited me better as, to my mind, it possessedall that "Madam X" lacked and, instead of weakness and an unhappyending, this was one of strength of character and a happy finale. It was"The Fourth Estate," by Joseph Medill Patterson, who served hisapprenticeship in writing on the Chicago Tribune. It was a newspaperplay and its interest centered around one Wheeler Brand, who, throughthe purchase of a big city daily by a western man, with the bigness tohand out the truth regardless of the threats of the big advertisers,becomes managing editor. He relentlessly goes after one Judge Bartelingwhose "rotten" decisions had but sufficed to help "big business" andwithout regard to their effect upon the poor. The one really squaredecision was recalled before it took effect. To complicate matters theyoung editor loves the judge's daughter and while Brand holds a highplace in Miss Barteling's regard, he is made to feel that to retain ithe must stop the fight on her father. Brand pleads with her to see themoral of it but is unable to change her views. One evening Brand securesa flashlight photo and telephone witnesses of an interview with thejudge, the photo showing the judge in the act of handing him aten-thousand-dollar bribe. Late that night Brand has the articleexposing this transaction in type and ready for the press when theproprietor, who has heretofore been so pleased with Brand's performance,but whose wife has gained an entrance into society through the influenceof Judge Barteling, enters the office with the order to "kill thestory."

  This was a hard blow to the coming newspaper man. The judge calls andjokes him about being a smart boy but crazed with ideals, but is shockedwhen he turns to find his daughter has entered the office and has heardthe conversation. He tells her to come along home with papa, but shedecides to remain with Brand. She has thought her father in the rightall along, but now that she has heard her father condone dishonesty shecan no longer think so. Wheeler disobeys orders and sends the paper topress without "killing the story," and "all's well that ends well."

  In a week or so I was back in Dakota where the thermometer registeredtwenty-five below with plenty of snow for company. I received a letterfrom the Reverend shortly after returning home saying they hoped to seeme in Chicago again soon. I did not know what that meant unless it wasthat I was expected to return to be married, but as I had been toChicago twice in less than four months and had suggested to Orlean thatshe come to Megory and be married there, I supposed that it was allsettled, but this was where I began to learn that the McCraline familywere very inconsiderate.

  I had not claimed to be wealthy or to have unlimited amounts of money tospend in going to and from Chicago, as though it were a matter of eightymiles instead of eight hundred. I had explained to the Reverend that itwas a burden rather than a luxury to be possessed of a lot of raw land,until it could be cultivated and made to yield a profit. I recalled thatwhile talking with the Reverend in regard to this he had nodded his headin assent but with no facial expression to indicate that he understoodor cared. The more I knew him the more I disliked him, and was verysorry that Orlean regarded his as a great man, although his immediatefamily were the only ones who regarded him in that light. I had learnedto expect his ceremonious manner but was considerably tried by hisapparent dullness and lack of interest or encouragement of practicalideas.

  I put volumes into my letters to Orlean, trying to make clear why sheshould condescend to come to Megory and be quietly married instead ofobliging me to return to Chicago. I had no more money, as it wasexpensive to keep my grandmother and sister on their claims. They had nomoney and I had no outside support, not even the moral support of mypeople nor of Orlean's, who all seemed to take it for granted that I hadplenty of ready money. I had not taken a cent out of the crop I hadraised, the corn still standing in the field, with a heavy snow on theground and my small grain still unthreshed.

  However, my letters were in vain. Miss McCraline could see no other waythan that if I cared for her I'd come and marry her at home, which shecontended was no more than right and would look much better. I sighedwearily over it all and began to suspect I was "in the right church, butin the wrong pew."