PART I
The Holland Era, 1870â1881
Dr. Josiah Gilbert Holland
(1819â1881)
GOD GIVE US MEN!
GOD, give us men! A time like this demands
Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and ready hands;
Men whom the lust of office does not kill;
Men whom the spoils of office can not buy;
Men who possess opinions and a will;
Men who have honor; men who will not lie;
Men who can stand before a demagogue
And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking!
Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog
In public duty, and in private thinking;
For while the rabble, with their thumb-worn creeds,
Their large professions and their little deeds,
Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps,
Wrong rules the land and waiting Justice sleeps.
Josiah Gilbert Holland (1873)
Today, few recall the âDr. Hollandâ who the New York Times called âone of the most celebrated writers which this country produced.â1 The words of Josiah Gilbert Holland appealed to a wide array of Victorian Americans who avidly sought his counsel and reassuring analyses in an era of political and economic upheaval, changing social mores, and rapid advances in science and technology. In his fiction and journalism he consistently expounded a civil religion with an emphasis on âstrong mindsâ (conviction and moral probity), âgreat heartsâ (sympathy for fellow man), âtrue faithâ (Christian piety), and âready handsâ (resourcefulness).
âGod Give Us Men!â reveals the exhortatory style characteristic of so much of Hollandâs writing. Written during the Grant administration, when political scandals proliferated, the poem calls out for men of character who would serve the public rather than look to their private needs. Believing that democracy needed its noble leaders lest âthe rabbleâ tear apart the social fabric, the editor-poet urges putting high ideals into everyday political practice. In contrast to modern faith in personality as the key to success, Gilded Age reformers believed in âcharacter, willpower, and manhoodâ as the means to self-improvement and, ultimately, a better, more just society.2 In the 1870s there was no stronger advocate of this view than Holland.
Hollandâs extended poem âJeremy Train: His Drive,â which opened the inaugural issue of Scribnerâs Monthly in 1870, also warns against moral transgressionâthis time in the private sphere. In this representative work, we learn that the eponymous hero has grown bored with his wife and now pines for a fellow farmerâs young wife, Maggie Mackay. At breakfast, Jeremy announces he must take leave to bargain for a heiferâwhen in fact it is Maggie that he plans on visiting and seducing. The Mackays, however, quickly see through Jeremyâs intentions and set a snare of their own for him. They ply him liberally with alcohol and then trick him into buying their cow at an exorbitant price. Humorously, the offended farmer also puts a harness on the cow to pull Jeremyâs wagon. Found by his wrecked vehicle the following morning, Jeremy is brought home and remains bedridden for weeks. But rather than ending unhappily, the poem concludes with a thoroughly reformed, and contented, husband:
While exhibiting the quaint charm that typifies so much of Hollandâs fiction, the poem also imparts a serious message. Americans, he gently yet firmly insists, need to be dutiful and sensible not just in the public realm of politics but in the home as well. In particular, they must revere the domestic sphere as sanctified space, discountenancing vices such as intemperance and extramarital affairs. As he reiterates in the essay âCharacter, and What Comes of Itââa distillation of his guiding principleââAbove all other things in the world, character has supreme value. A man can never be more than what his characterâintellectual, moral, spiritualâmakes him.â3 Never an authentic literary artist like those he and fellow editor Richard Watson Gilder showcased in Scribnerâs Monthly and The Century, Holland, in his moralistic writings, nonetheless touched the heartstrings and minds of a substantial national audience.
To a large extent, Hollandâs popular touch and republican principles stemmed from his upbringing in western Massachussetts. Born into severe poverty, as a young man he helped support his family by working in a textile mill, earning enough to eventually attend Berkshire Medical College. The medical profession, however, did not fully engage his interest, and he began contributing to Knickerbocker Magazine and other periodicals. In 1847 he quit the medical field altogether, pinning his hopes on a ânew family newspaperâ called the Bay State Weekly Courier. As sole proprietor and editor, Holland strove to âelevate the standard of literary tasteâ and to âtell the truth boldly and freely on all things which concerned Patriotism, Philanthropy, and Religion.â Though its openness to such a wide variety of topics was innovative for journalism at the time, the newspaper lasted only six months.4 Without employment, and now married to Elizabeth Chapin, Holland took the next jobs that were offered: a teaching post in Richmond, Virginia, and, subsequently, the superintendency of a public school in Vicksburg, Mississippi. It is during this time that he developed a strong sympathy for the South (a stance he would retain and use to his full advantage as editor of Scribnerâs Monthly). With an eye for a larger field, he also began submitting his own literary work to northern newspapers, including âPlantation Sketches,â which he placed with an enthusiastic Samuel Bowles at the Springfield Republican.
In 1849 he moved back to New England to become Bowlesâs assistant, a collaboration that increased the newspaperâs already formidable national reputation. For his part, Bowles was one of the eraâs most influential and respected journalists, one who spoke out fervently on public issues of the day. Holland, in turn, wrote on domestic themes, like those found in âJeremy Train.â As Edward Eggleston wrote in his obituary for Holland, âIf Bowles made the Republican esteemed and feared in Massachusetts and the nation, Holland made it loved in ten thousand homes.â5 From Hollandâs pulpit also came a series of moralistic essays entitled Timothy Titcombâs Letters, which made quite a national stir when Scribnerâs published them in book form in 1858. Even more successful, however, were his dramatic poems Bitter-Sweet (1858) and Katrina (1867), sales for which made him the best-known and best-paid poet in America.
In 1868, when Charles Scribner asked him to take over the domestic journal Hours at Home, Holland made a counteroffer. He suggested that, with his friend Roswell Smith, he would start a new magazine. Holland made his conditions clear:
Scribner accepted Hollandâs conditions and Scribnerâs Monthly: A Magazine of the People was born. Accordingly, in 1870 Holland relocated from Springfield to New York City, a move reflecting Americaâs own general procession from rural to urban during this era. By the end of his eleven-year reign as editor, Holland had earned the right to be included âin any list of the half-dozen greatest American magazine editors.â7
âMoney Did Itâ
Scribnerâs Monthly and the Incorporation of Culture
Emily Dickinson to Dr. Josiah G. Holland:
âDoctorâHow did you snare Howells?âEmilyâ
Dr. Hollandâs reply:
âEmilyâCase of BriberyâMoney did itâHollandâ
Scribnerâs Monthly was founded during the âmania of magazine-startingâ by three men from the newly emerged professional managerial class, each representing a particular area of expertise.1 Charles Scribner offered extraordinary industry experience, brand-name recognition, and key contacts in the publishing world. Dr. Josiah G. Holland represented the literary end of the venture, with twenty-six-year-old Richard Watson Gilder, the future editor of The Century, his able assistant. And Roswell Smith, a lawyer by training and proprietor of coal-rich lands in Indiana, offered exceptional business acumen as well as deep pockets.
At first Scribner had been reluctant to take on Smith as a third party who would share in the magazineâs profits, but his impeccable business credentials and high ethical standards based on Christian principles convinced the publisher that the magnitude of the new magazineâs vision would command a âgreat successâ that âwe will be more likely to secure if we have an efficient business organization.â Scribnerâs decision to employ Smithâs organizational talents and financial acuity was prescient. Running a successful business in the emerging industrial order of the postâCivil War era could no longer be accomplished by individuals on a âcasual, freewheeling basisâ; instead, historian Maury Klein notes, âthe more specialized and complicated activities became, the more they required planning and coordination to operate efficiently. Improvisation, which Americans had elevated to an art form, still had its place, but not in a complex industrial system. Grudgingly, it gave way to systemization and integration.â2
Smith, it turned out, was a master of systematizing the operations of Scribnerâs and planning its strategies. His introduction of prepaid postage and inexpensive, large-scale advertising, insistence on numerous illustrations, and willingness to spend huge sums of money for visionary projects such as Edward Kingâs âThe Great Southâ quickly propelled Scribnerâs Monthly into a dominant position in family magazine publishing.3 The successful strategies produced by the coordinated efforts of Holland, Scribner, and Smith strongly influenced how almost every mass distribution magazine publisher would come to do business by the turn of the century.4
Helping Scribnerâs rise to dominate the field of periodical publishing was the fact that the magazine was a joint-stock venture, or corporation. Although the three primary shareholders were Smith, Holland, and Scribner, Scribner & Company made it seem like its readers were shareholders as well.5 At the end of its first decade, the magazine published an index to its published writings with a preface that reads like a Wall Street annual report.
This preface to the index is revealing. From it we learn that behind Scribnerâs success in winning readers as well as the works of famous writers is lots and lots of money. In almost every other sentence, the Scribner & Company founders emphasize the enormous cost of their venture and the relatively low cost of each issue to the reader-shareholder. Having spent nearly $100,000 on illustrations, well over $100,000 on contributions and editing work, $125,000 on printing costs, and $250,000 on paper, the publishers want their readers to know how much they care about their interests. Not just standard magazine fare, the reader is told, Scribnerâs offers literature and images worth permanently preserving in a library. In return for its efforts and expenditures, the magazine quietly yet insistently asks only for continued support, implying that such would be the rational decision of any intelligent reader.
Tasteâor, rather, tasteful articles, essays, and imagesâwas precisely the commodity for sale in Scribnerâs pages. By 1881 the connection between art and commerce was already tightly intertwined. Beginning with their inaugu...