Showing posts with label Robert G. Anderson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert G. Anderson. Show all posts

Friday, January 25, 2013

Not pity but respect: Thomas Nelson Baker





Presented to the Club on Monday Evening, January 14, 2013 by Robert G. Anderson



We are celebrating the 150th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, Abraham Lincoln’s Presidential declaration that all slaves were no longer property but free. Lincoln shifted the justification for the civil war from preserving the union to liberating those enslaved. The proclamation began to undo the entanglement of the 1850’s when it was federal law to seize and return escaped slaves to their owners while abolitionists were extending the underground railroad and taking up arms to promote civil freedom in new territories. The contentious adoption of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution by Congress in the final months of the Civil War and the subsequent confirmation by the States, rendered the intent of the emancipation proclamation federal law.



I want to tell you about a person whose life as a 2 year old was dramatically altered by Lincoln’s proclamation, enacted January 1, 1863. His name was Thomas Nelson Baker, born a slave on August 11, 1860. His significance for us is that, at age 71, Baker was voted into membership of the Monday Evening Club, the first African American. The 1863 proclamation declared that he and his family were free. Since we each likely have tracked genealogy back to 1860, whether in the US or abroad, we might consider what impact the proclamation had on our ancestors, whether soldiers, slaveholders, merchants in the cotton trade, conductors in the underground railroad, victims of collateral war damage, or even those entrapped in oppressive countries where freedom from bondage was a dream.



Baker’s life is an extraordinary story which transpires the growth, struggle and transformation of our nation from the Civil War to the Great Depression and the brink of WW II. He grew up on the rural east shore of Virginia, spent his 20s and 30s in Massachusetts and New Haven and the remaining four decades of his life in Pittsfield. He is claimed by academics and historians of the civil rights movement as an unheralded prophet, a lesser known but important African American pioneer in ministry, philosophy, civil rights and public discourse. He lived here as a church and community leader, respected citizen and family man. He was a learned man of faith, principle and vision who was controversial in his day. He wrote and spoke of enduring themes about our common life.



The Early Years

T. Nelson Baker, first known as Tom, was born to Thomas Shadrack Baker and Edith Nottingham Baker, slaves on Robert Nottingham’s east shore Virginia plantation in Northampton County, an area known as Eastville. His father would become a Union soldier. His mother was the daughter of Southey and Sarah Nottingham, a woman with scars on her back from whippings. All ancestors were slaves, in his words, “Negroes of unmixed blood.” After the end of the war, when learning to read was no longer punishable, Baker recalled:


My mother taught me my letters, although I well remember when she learned them herself. My first reading lesson was the second chapter of Matthew, the Bible being the only book we had. I never read a bad book in my life which is one of the blessings I got by being poor. I began to attend the common schools at eight and learned to love books passionately. I used to read through my recesses. Evenings I read the Bible to my parents and grandparents, while they listened with weeping eyes, thankful that I had the great blessing of being able to read.

When Baker was 12 his father, against the wishes of his mother, took him out of school to plow on the grandfather’s farm to help meet payments for the family home. For nine years he lived what he called “a bookless life." “On becoming of age, I was again seized with a burning desire to get an education.”



At 21, he entered Hampton Normal School in Hampton, VA for four years, his tuition paid in part by the Rev. John Dennison of Williams College. His ties with the north had begun. After teaching for a year in a wild Virginia marshland region known as the Dismal Swamp, in 1886 at age 25 he was awarded a scholarship to study at Mt. Hermon School in Northfield, Mass founded in 1879 by the evangelist Dwight L. Moody. Dennison, “particularly struck by Baker’s intelligence and drive to educate himself as well as his interest in ministry,” continued to support him.



Mt. Hermon was unique for accepting students of color and different nationalities. Baker headed north against the advice of some Hampton teachers. At age 25 he was one of two Negro students, became a drill master and substitute summer principal, graduating in June 1889 at age 28. His academic and intellectual gifts were recognized, his determination and leadership abilities grew. He had fulfilled a dream to study Greek and Latin and thrived in a racially mixed school atmosphere , stating later that “the people of Northfield were color blind.”



Opportunities in New England continued with the assistance of white patrons, including Mrs. Moody, also impressed with his intellect and maturity. Baker, a youngster during Reconstruction, had left the south as a young adult just as the Jim Crow era was emerging and the wounded pride of Dixie was being born.



Public Discourse in Post Civil War America

Let us set the context of his early life. The years of Reconstruction, the military occupation of the South and post war federal initiative to implement rights and opportunities for former slaves was an effort to create a new normalcy for all citizens and ended in 1876. The ensuing 25 years could be characterized as a return to black subordination through the restoration of political and economic power into the hands of the local white population.



Characteristic too was the migration of blacks to the north at a time of dramatic industrialization, even though in the 1880s 80 percent of all blacks lived in the rural south. Under the Jim Crow era “the colored” were to know and keep their place, segregated in private and public life. The Supreme Court issued the Plessy vs. Ferguson ruling in 1896 instituting the validity of “separate but equal” travelling train arrangements for blacks in Louisiana, setting a principle that ruled all elements of public life for over 60 years, such as separate drinking fountains and educational systems.



Negro leaders, focusing on the south, emerged with differing views as to how new citizenship might be claimed in such diabolical and oppressive conditions. Poll taxes and other discriminatory qualifications rolled back newfound voting rights and basic public education for poor children of color was amiss. Vigilante lynchings, the terror of night, totaled 900 between 1893 and 1899. Black subservience was institutionalized once again.



Many former slaves were conscripted to economic slavery, bound to the land as farm tenants or sharecroppers. Racial identity was drawn sharply. One third of all former slaves had both white and black lineage but even those who formerly had a distinctive identity as “mulattoes” no longer had status. One drop of Negro blood made you colored. Questions of pride and shame as to racial color were daily troubles. The Congressional election in 1900 of the first black man since Reconstruction, George A. White from North Carolina, sent a shock wave through the country and a steely resolve in the south to initiate local and state laws to redeem the south for whites and reclaim total control as a one party system. The Jim Crow culture was becoming law.



A notable division in the black community developed between two national leaders, Booker T. Washington and by W. E. B. Du Bois. Washington, born into slavery in 1856 and founder of the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, emphasized economic development and gradual conciliatory action by Negroes in the post civil war era, to exhibit cooperation and advancement through self development and industrious actions. Moving too fast to claim the right to vote would be destructive.



Washington, emphasizing mobilization through economic action, founded the National Negro Business League in 1900. His autobiography, Up From Slavery, published in 1901, described his quest for an education, the founding of Tuskegee, the dignity of work and his civic efforts to promote constructive race relations and harmony. National outrage erupted, however, when President Teddy Roosevelt invited him to lunch at the White House. Du Bois on the other hand emphasized political mobilization and action and the claiming of civil rights, even forms of public protest to fulfill the strivings and yearnings of black folk.



Du Bois, born in 1868 in Great Barrington, emerged as an academician, sociologist, civil rights leader, writer and spokesperson, the first African American to be granted a Ph.D. at Harvard, in 1896. The Souls of Black Folk, published in 1903, a series of 14 essays, became the 20th century’s most foundational statement for black identity and political action, influencing political consciousness and the civil rights movement. Washington was seen as too accommodating by Du Bois, while Dubois was viewed as too radical and oppositional by Washington. Du Bois co-founded the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People in 1909, fostering a civic and political agenda. There was a strong divide between perspectives originating in the south and in the north with regard to the progress and strategy for blacks in society.



An Academic and Minister

Baker entered Boston University in 1890 and in 1893 at age 33 received a Bachelors of Liberal Arts, graduating as valedictorian and one of two commencement speakers. Described by another in this period as cautious and shy, he began socializing in co-ed gatherings and gaining confidence. Older than his peers, he was experiencing tolerance and respect as an unusually gifted black person. Upon graduation he declared that he would seek further education to enter the Methodist ministry and work among his people in the south.



His quest brought him, against the advice of friends, to Yale University for the study of ministry and philosophy. “I had learned by this time that no one knows enough except a fool. “ He received a Bachelor of Divinity degree in 1896 and continued at the Graduate School in the fields of Philosophy and Psychology. Baker shifted affiliation to New Haven’s Dixwell Avenue Congregational Church, became the minister in 1896 and was ordained there at age 37 on February 9, 1897, succeeding a pastor who had caused strife. The Congregational Church of the north, having served as a bastion of abolition, was ordaining blacks to serve in separate churches.



His life took hold in the new century as he reached 40. I will give you an overview and return to the narrative. He left New Haven for Pittsfield to become the minister at Second Congregational Church August 1, 1901, a position he held for 37 years. He succeeded The Rev. Dr. Samuel Harrison, also born a slave, recognized for his service as chaplain in the Massachusetts 54th Regiment, the first all black infantry to fight in the civil war. Upon the church’s founding on First Street in 1846, Harrison served as pastor almost continuously from 1850 until his death in 1900 at age 82. Baker arrived to find the church in trouble following the death of Harrison. He began with a message of hope and an ethical approach to religion that would have a practical impact on people’s lives. He was warmly received by the Pittsfield Minister’s Club when he spoke at their October meeting. It was at this time that he became known as T. Nelson Baker.






Baker's business card (W. E. B. Du Bois papers, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, Mass.)

Meanwhile, Baker’s family ties with Virginia remained strong. On September 18, 1901 he married Elizabeth (Lizzie) Baytop in Cappahosic, Glouster County, Virginia, along the York River, a Tidewater peninsula to the west of the east shore. She had been born in 1865, had also attended Hampton, graduated in 1884 and taught in public and private schools for 15 years. They would have known each other as students at Hampton but were, in the words of another student, not familiar.



Completing his Yale dissertation, Baker graduated with a Ph.D. in 1903, the second African American at Yale with that distinction and the first in the nation with a doctorate in philosophy. Mrs. Baker was an accomplished musician and soloist, having taught music at Tuskegee Institute and served as librarian at Hampton. Their four children were musical and studious, all eventually graduating from Oberlin College and pursuing significant careers in music, academics and education. It is curious that Baker was admitted to the club in 1931, his 30th year in Pittsfield. He may have been regularly attending as a guest since 1926. At the time of his retirement from Second Congregational eight years later, in July 1939, he was the dean of Pittsfield ministers and at one time or another had spoken in every Protestant church in town.



So now, let’s double back to Yale. His dissertation was entitled “The Ethical Significance of the Connection Between Mind and Body,” an impressive document I read at the Yale Archives. Having studied classical philosophy, the search for wisdom and truth, and the new science of psychology, the study of human personality, his thesis identified the essential tie between the mind and the body. The body is the locale where the mind gains moral and ethical victories and suffers moral and ethical defeats. There is not a dual realm of body and mind but one realm with essential interaction. The mind is never known apart from the body.



Socrates, for example, said “know thyself” but would not walk in the country because he professed there was nothing to be learned from the fields and the trees. Baker underscored the interconnection of the natural and spiritual realm of life where the body and mind lives. As a student of William James, of phenomenology and observation, Baker discussed the importance of hygiene, attending to the body and mind as the locale where health, ethics and religion meet. The body is a prime factor in the ethical struggle, wherein the mind as the soul must seek self mastery. Baker cited the importance of heredity, what one inherits from parents physiologically, such as diseases, traits and mental disorders, combining the influence of what we refer to as nature and nurture. He called for the study of real life as a basis for philosophy, concluding that the primary ethical obligation is not first to God, nor to one’s fellowman, nor to his soul but to his body. A life of nutrition, sensation, reason and soul development produces better men, for bodily habits shape mental habits. It is worth noting that Baker does not acknowledge or cite explicitly a perspective as a black man, the innovation lies in tying psychology and philosophy, what one sees, experiences and knows as bodily reality. Baker brought his research findings to Pittsfield in 1901 where he completed his dissertation as a newlywed and minister, graduating as Doctor of Philosophy from Yale in 1903.



Baker’s first decade in Pittsfield



What did Baker find in Pittsfield? Our city in the 1900’s was a small industrial town of textile and fabric mills and burgeoning enterprises in quality paper products, including currency, and electrical equipment such as high voltage transformers. Park Square was a traffic problem despite trolleys, complicated by horseless carriages. The population was 22,000. Plans were in place for public parks and play grounds. The African American community was a few hundred, comprised of long standing citizens, the males having the right to vote, and folks migrating from the south seeking jobs along with other immigrants.



In his early years in Pittsfield, Baker claimed his views in the division between Booker T. Washington and W. E. B. Du Bois. As a religious leader in a small community, Baker had conciliatory, controversial and radical views. He was a son of the rural south, where conciliation was essential to survival and then a student of the north, where one could voice views and claim the liberties offered to all men. Baker stood in a unique place between Washington and Du Bois.



During his first years in Pittsfield, Baker wrote numerous articles that were published in civic and religious magazines. His article, “A Negro’s View of the Race Problem” was published April 1903 in the Congregationalist and Christian World, in response to an earlier article on snap shots of the south, written by a northern white clergyman, impressions critical of separate schools for the colored, laws to disenfranchise the Negro, and the embarrassment of white features and fair skin for some Negroes .  Baker affirmed separate schools in the south as positive for both races, particularly to foster Negro children overcoming inferiority by having Negro teachers. He advocated a slow pace in becoming enfranchised, based upon his belief that it should not be instituted disruptively. In the very volatile issue of skin color brought about by the mingling of the races through births outside of marriage, he professed that Negroes with lighter skin need not feel inferior or ashamed of their parentage, that “the consummation to be wished for the Negro is not to make him a white man but a fully developed black man, with all his racial possibilities raised to their highest powers.” Baker was calling for patience and self respect along the lines of Booker T. Washington.



An article by Baker entitled “Not Pity but Respect” appeared February 1906 in Congregationalist and Christian World and led to strong opposition by W. E. B. Du Bois. Baker criticized the activities the summer of 1905 at the Student Volunteer Movement Convention in Nashville, Tenn., indicating that evangelization in the south needed to be directed to Caucasians and not Negroes. He was not outraged by the actions taken during the convention to designate separate seating for Negro delegates and called for facing self pity, a plight stemming from inferiority. “When the Negro really feels as proud of being black as the white man does of being white he will no longer feel humiliated by being seated by himself.” Baker stated that focus ought to be on destroying the “Jim Crow Negro” instead of the “Jim Crow Car.” He critiqued the Negro students at the convention who, when learning they were to be seated separately from whites, chose to stay outside. He referred to this as, “whining and pouting like children over their real and imaginary wrongs and losing their place” to participate where respect might be gained.



He went on to address the multi-colored aspect of the American Negro, how protest based upon pity, exemplified by demonstrations at the convention, correlated with the degradation of Negro women by white men. This is “made easy through the perverted aesthetical taste of the Negro woman, perversion which made her willing to sacrifice her virtue that her child might be made a little more beautiful by having good hair, thin lips, light skin and a pretty nose.” The forced sexual abuse by white men upon black women birthing children of mixed color and often ambiguous identity brought unnecessary humiliation in the black woman’s soul. Baker ended with his contention that the young Negro, whatever skin color, needs to view the name Negro not as a sign for tender sympathy and pity but a sign of manhood and womanhood which always and everywhere demands respect. Not pity but respect were his watch words.



Du Bois wrote a letter to Baker and to the editor of the magazine on April 14, 1906 with a condemnation of Baker’s critical statement of the protesting Negro delegates attending the Nashville convention. In his letter to Baker he opened with mention that he had read his writings with interest and sympathy as a fellow soul striving for the light, hoping that sometime they might work together, since Baker was working in the area of western Massachusetts where Du Bois’ family lived for more than two centuries. He proceeded to call the article a wanton and vicious attack on educated Negro womanhood, a nasty slur on the chastity of Negro women, the most cowardly and shameless thing he has recently read. He stated his indignation and righteous contempt for maligning the very class of women to which Baker’s own wife and mother belonged.



Du Bois’ letter to the magazine was more restrained. He contended that Baker’s statement implied that educated Negro women including such delegates are, “little better than ‘public prostitutes."  Du Bois would not settle for Baker’s example of pity based upon self demeaning perversion. He called upon Baker and the magazine to issue an apology to his wife, the young women delegates of Fisk and Atlanta and the all the colored delegates, who he said in every single case are chaste and decent. I found no record of a reply by Baker.



Baker’s example and use of the word perversion seemed to distract from his main theme of calling upon the Negro to demand not pity but respect through cooperative participation in public settings. Here Baker favored Washington’s methods of gradualism and accommodation but spoke of a racial pride based upon self respect which aligned him with Du Bois’ principles. This, in our time, came to be known as black pride. The themes of respect and fortitude guided Baker’s life and ministry.



I did not find any additional material regarding interaction between Baker and Du Bois. Other writers have unsuccessfully sought such evidence. I did learn that the Du Bois Archives at U Mass, Amherst has a copy of Baker’s dissertation, which could be why Du Bois mentioned being familiar with Baker’s writings. They both stood out in their day with Ivy League Ph.D.’s. The Archives makes reference to a course of lectures offered by Baker entitled, “The Ethical and Religious Meaning of the Body.”



Baker’s two-part article in Alexander’s Magazine September and October 1906, a Boston based monthly journal devoted to spreading of information and the improvement of the Negro race in the US, demonstrated the evolution of his public voice as philosopher and theologian. Entitled “Ideals,” he discussed two foundations for race relations through the ages. The first is the right ethical ideal of justice, with Greek and Christian roots, the recent civil war an example of the battle between conflicting ethical ideals. Justice prevailed, “doing unto others as he desires others to do unto him.” He described how “Slavery, oppression and race prejudice cannot live in peace with such an ideal.” The great need for mankind is not to be racially one but to be ethically one.



The second foundation is the right aesthetical ideal, appealing to feelings, where the right and good become the beautiful. What is ethical is united with aesthetics and religion. Baker called for the Negro to see the beauty of one’s own skin, not to be ashamed, and for the white not to degrade or defame the Negro for racial differences, or each race to cast aside a view of the other as ugly but to embrace an aesthetic ideal of beauty, thereby assuring the possibility of justice. When such perversion is cast aside, the mulatto will not see beauty in one racial type. Baker was speaking again to a very volatile and emotional identity crisis alive in every black family and community. How he was heard is unclear but the posture from which he lived his adult life is clear, built on a firm rock of intellect and experience.



All the known published writings of Baker fell within the first 8 years of his ministry in Pittsfield. He wrote three additional articles in Alexander’s Magazine. By 1910 his focus was as a Congregational pastor with a growing family and a commitment to preaching and teaching. Baker in his early years of ministry hoped to be able to relocate to teach in a southern Negro college. If that was a dream, it was never fulfilled, even though others advocated for him. Early in life he had said, “My purpose is to teach. I hope to come into touch with thinking youth of my race and help them lay a foundation for a thoughtful and ethicized religion.” He did so through his ministry in Pittsfield. He was remembered as instrumental in leading 25 young people to college.



Baker is Recognized as a Leader in Pittsfield

The Thursday, October 30, 1919 issue of The Berkshire Evening Eagle, with the headline, "Says Hampton Institute is Doing a Miraculous Work," had Baker reporting on a visit to his alma mater, known then as the Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute for Negro and Indian Students, where he had graduated in 1885. Baker, aged 59, described how southern white people were learning to be kind to black people but that did not mean they were just. The Rev. James E. Gregg was the new director at Hampton and likely instrumental in Baker’s visit his first year there. Gregg was the former assistant pastor of the First Church of Christ in Pittsfield, Congregational where he served from 1912 to 1918, joining the Monday Evening club in 1916.



Baker, who surely knew him in Pittsfield, cited him as a northern white man who understood justice. Baker elaborated on hunger for justice as the message of Uncle Tom in Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin or Life Among the Lowly. Tom would settle for “poor food, poor clothes, and poor everything and have them mine.” Baker observed systemized, legalized injustice, what he called “an ethical and moral stench in the nostrils of the Almighty.” He reported that “the colored people of the south are not seeking to associate with the white people; they are glad not to associate with them in their social life for they do not know how to have a good time.” Negroes want equal return for their money in travel and just treatment. Separate but equal was tolerable to Baker, yet he indicated a hopefulness that God would rectify injustice. Teachers and preachers need to tell the people to wait on God. Baker seemed to be speaking as someone who had settled in the north.



On Memorial Day 1926, Monday, May 30th Baker, aged 65, delivered a notable and stirring address at the annual observance of war dead held at Pittsfield Cemetery. In attendance were 18 veterans of the Civil War, 12 from the Spanish American War and over 100 from the World War. The day began with a parade up South Street, 21 units unfurling their colors in tune with bands and Scottish pipers. Baker stated to the gathered assemblage:


Memorial Day is not to teach the rising generation that the boys in Blue were better men than the boys in Gray. It took the boys in Gray to make the boys in Blue show the stuff that was in them. The boys in Blue were not better soldiers than the boys in Gray but they were engaged in better business. They died defending the Union and the constitution… they were engaged in saving the life of the nation and did not have time to save their own lives…Abraham Lincoln was not a blood thirsty war tyrant, seeking whom he could destroy – Abraham Lincoln was a man of peace – but he found himself where he was obliged to fight or lose his right to be called a man. Many of them right out of slavery stood up with the boys in Blue. Among those black boys in Blue who came right out of slavery were my father, his brother, their three cousins, my mother’s four brothers and their six cousins. They are gone all but one of them and they sleep in the soil in which lies the ashes of seven generations of their ancestors whose “ two hundred years of unrequited toil” educated seven generations of their master’s children. 


The black man loves this nation – not her little prejudices – not her ingratitude – not her racial injustice but the thought that underlies the life of the nation – justice and the equal chance for all, regardless of race, color, creed or previous condition of servitude. The black man loves this nation with a love that blind and foolish prejudices have not been able to crush – and never shall! For life is strong as death. “Many waters cannot quench love. Neither can floods drown it.” The floods of prejudice and injustice have never been able to drown the love and loyalty of the black man for this nation. No other race has ever yet stood such a test and come out of it loyal and loving.

Baker’s address was received with much applause. He had the fire of a preacher who took his listeners to uncharted waters; he had mastered his craft and could speak with clarity and distinctiveness. The message had been quoted at length in the next day’s issue of The Berkshire Evening Eagle.



Second Congregational Church celebrated Baker’s 26th year of ministry in Pittsfield on Sunday, August 28, 1927, with two worship services and a dinner in his honor. The guest preacher was the Rev. Gregg from the Hampton Institute who told of Baker’s patient hope with the small congregation. He was praised for “upholding the highest gospel standards, strengthening the bond of fellowship, sharing the social and civic responsibilities of our city which owes much to the consecrated and scholarly minister, the dean of ecclesiastical forces in our midst.” Daughter Edith Baker, student at Oberlin, offered a piano selection and greetings were read from a representative of the Pittsfield Federation of Churches.






Baker with The Rev. George W. Hinton in a photo labeled as being taken in 1923 at a conference of the American Missionary Association in Pittsfield. Hinton was the longtime pastor of the Corona Congregational Church, Corona, N. Y. (Tulane University Digital Library, American Missionary Association Photographs, 1839-1954)







When Baker Joins the Club

Baker was voted into Monday Evening Club membership in 1931 together with Dr. Modestino Criscitiello, a local physician in his late 30’s who had been born in Italy, graduated from Johns Hopkins Medical School and had come to Pittsfield as a physician five years before, distinguishing himself in his local practice. As you are aware, we have no record of the Club’s activity at the time, no topics of papers read. The backdrop of the town in the 30s might give us a context to speculate upon the club’s decision to admit Baker.



Pittsfield was a bustling small city of 55,000 in 1930. The 300th anniversary of the founding of the Massachusetts Bay Colony was a big event, especially for those with colonial lineage. The Presidential election of 1928 between Herbert Hoover and Al Smith generated nasty local political accusations and outright prejudice. Smith was defamed by the anti-saloon league and the local chapter of Ku Klux Klan, “Berkshire Klan, No. 9.” Crosses were burned in Pittsfield as a warning to “undesirables” but no violent clashes occurred in Pittsfield as was the case in three other towns in the commonwealth. The nameless Klan members were castigated in the local press and by a former state senator, Thomas F. Cassidy, who publicly attacked them as casting the “menace of a moron.”



Unemployment increased slowly after the first few years of the depression. It was a dire time for the poor. Local municipal relief increased continuously. In 1932 there was a run on the banks and the disappearance of a prominent banker, William Adam, shocking the community. Civilian Conservation Corps camps were 8 in number, a labor source for paving roads, cutting trails and campsites. Over 900 men worked for the CWA on public projects. The depression would deepen in 1934 with no work, many foreclosures, work stoppages and serious labor union organizing, those with jobs walking to work. By the end of the decade, economic conditions were slowly improving and Pittsfield would gradually grow in prosperity as the Second World War began. The club drew new members from the increasingly diverse community. Baker, at first a colleague and friend of The Rev. Gregg, a former member, since at least 1912, was a well known public figure and remained a member until his death.



The Family and the Pursuit of Education

All of Baker’s four children graduated from Oberlin College. The archives there provided some basics. Edith Elizabeth was born on July 12, 1902, received her BA in 1926 and BSM in 1928. She went on to receive an MA at Columbia University becoming a music teacher at high schools and colleges including Fisk University. She was the director of a NYC based foundation dedicated to African American community music. Harry Baytop was born on February 14, 1904 received a BA in Music Theory in 1928 and a BM from Syracuse University in 1935. He was a music teacher and a professor at Kentucky State University, chairman of the music department and a music minister. In his life he was a GE employee, was married and had an adopted daughter. Ruth, the third child, birthdate not given, received her BA in 1933 and BSM in 1934, having previously received a diploma at the Berkshire Business College in 1928. She was a music teacher in the NYC public school system, serving in Harlem. Thomas Nelson Jr. , the fourth, received his BA in 1929 and MA in 1930, completing his Ph.D. in chemistry at Ohio State University in 1941. He became a chemistry professor and department chair at Virginia State College, Petersburg VA and had two sons, Thomas Nelson III and Newman Taylor, a renowned jazz drummer and percussionist who performs internationally and in his bios claims slave ancestry and a rich family musical heritage.



The Final Years

On the front page of The Berkshire Evening Eagle of Thursday, January 5, 1939 along with the announcement of FDR’s appointment of Felix Frankfurter to the Supreme Court, a headline read: "T. Nelson Baker Resigns as Pastor of Local Church." Baker indicated that he was resigning at the annual church meeting the next day not because he wanted to but because he ought to; a hearing impairment also was making it increasingly difficult. He stated that he wanted to see a younger man serving the church and the city. He retired in July just before his 79th birthday and was succeeded by The Rev. Harold Leslie Nevers, also a Yale Divinity School graduate who would join the Club in 1944. Under his leadership, the church relocated in 1941 from First Street to Onota Street where it remains to this day. The years leading up to Baker’s decision to retire were gloomy; Lizzie, his wife had died June 26, 1937.



His subsequent death on February 22, 1941 was also front page news. He died tragically at home of gas poisoning, found by son Harry slumped in a chair in his study at 256 Robbins Avenue. A victim of fumes, he apparently fell asleep before the flame of the open gas heater went out, the medical examiner calling the death accidental. Harry was living with his father at the time. Arrangements were made with the Wellington Funeral Home and Baker was buried in the Pittsfield Cemetery next to his wife. Her headstone reads, “Thou excellest them all,” a portion of Proverbs 31:29, “Many daughters have done virtuously, thou excellest them all.”



Still More to Learn

My search to learn more about T. Nelson Baker has been fascinating with information about him leading to many questions about the man, his journey, the racial struggles of the day and his impact upon others as a leader and minister. I found rich resources and most helpful staff at Yale Archives and Divinity School Library, The DuBois Archives at University of Massachusetts, the archives of Dixwell Congregational Church, New Haven, and Second Congregational Church, Pittsfield, the alumni offices of Boston University and Oberlin College and The Pittsfield Atheneum. I developed an opener — “I am researching the life of an African American, born a slave, awarded a Ph.D. from Yale, a distinguished congregational minister for over 40 years.“ In the last few weeks I shared resources with the researcher and writer who contacted Martin [Langeveld] back in November asking permission to use our website photo of Baker.



T. Nelson Baker left a legacy as a pioneer for civil liberties and justice and lived with the fulfillment of seeing his children each receive a solid education and contribute as pioneers in academic, educational and musical fields. He has been identified as a notable philosopher who looked outside classical European modes to propose a way of engaging in truth telling from a black perspective with pride in black identity and community.



He grew up in poverty in a family newly freed from slavery on the east shore of rural Virginia in the era of Reconstruction and Jim Crow, farming for years before resuming his education at age 21. He pursued academics at a Massachusetts boarding school, then in Boston and New Haven at the end of the 19th century. Ordained at age 37, the second half of his life was as a congregational clergyman, writer and community leader in Pittsfield. He wrote and spoke with a foundation in philosophy that acknowledged the struggles of humanity and the need for justice and beauty. In his early writings he pioneered in describing the essential connection between the mind and the body for development and health. He used that unity to underscore hunger for justice, a visceral image that coincides with his deep seated longing for racial equality and respect in our society, benefitting white and black alike. He called for “an ethicized religion.”



What I have garnered is but a glimpse of the man, events about him and words by him that light up key elements of his public life and thought. His words ring as succinct, clear and fiery. He grew in wisdom in his Pittsfield years and spoke from an embodied heritage as a black man. I would like to know more of how he interpreted his struggles, tragedies and setbacks, the fiber that shaped him as a man of strong faith and personal principles. I wonder about how he made it into the Monday Evening Club, how he was received and what papers he read in his 10 years with the club. But then I also respect mystery; not knowing enough is again where I end.

___________



Addendum, 2018: We have heard from Dr. George Yancy, Professor of Philosophy at Emory University, who has written two articles students of Thomas Nelson Baker may be interested in. They are:




  • Yancy, G. “Thomas Nelson Baker: The First African-American to Receive the Ph.D. in Philosophy,” in The Western Journal of Black Studies, 21, no. 4, 1997: 253–260.

  • Yancy, G. “On the Power of Black Aesthetic Ideals: Thomas Nelson Baker as Preacher and Philosopher,” The AME Church Review, vol. CXVII, no. 384 (Oct./Dec.), 2001: 50–67.





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Tuesday, February 8, 2011

"Nothing intelligent to say...": Servants and slaves in southern New England; the initial years for natives and settlers

Presented to the Club on Monday evening, January 23, 2011 by Robert G. Anderson



Last fall I began to search for material about slavery in 17th century southern New England with the hope that I would have something intelligent to say for my first endeavor as “reader.” No surprise, there is a richness, complexity and darkness to the history of natives and settlers, as differing peoples began to mix it up in this territory. I will describe some key events from 1620 to 1640, an incomplete narrative, after taking a look at the respective cultures that clashed once English settlers began to arrive on native land. My enigmatic title is part of a quote from the novelist Kurt Vonnegut which I will explain later.



I hope to explore how English settlers got here, how servitude evolved and slavery took hold as a significant economic, social and security development. The sources I found are almost exclusively based upon accounts of colonist history by colonists and accounts of native activity by colonists. Archeology has provided limited data regarding the lives of natives in the early 1600s. What we mostly have is one side of the story.



I. Backdrop of the Clash of Peoples



As far back as 7,000 years ago peoples inhabited our four season region of woodland, mountains and coastland. The migrating Algonquin people arrived 2,000 to 3,000 years ago, divided into nations, living a life of hunting, fishing, gathering and seasonal crop farming, with clustered villages along the coast in the warm months and inland by other waters during the coldest, following game. They lived in circular thatched dwellings easily moved with the seasons or in more permanent longhouses.





By the early 1600’s there were six Algonquin peoples residing in the region, each with populations of 10,000 to 20,000, a common language and distinguishing dialects and habits. They were traders and gifted in negotiation and diplomacy as a shifting balance of power forged alliances between them in the face of disputes and aggression. Each of the peoples was led by a sachem or pow-wow, a male head who was priest, medicine man and chief. Conflicts between native peoples might lead to violent skirmishes or raids, often resolved through diplomacy and concession. Slaves were a benefit of a war victory, traded as a commodity or often incorporated with standing into village life. There was no servant class per se, although women attended to the activities and burdens of family and village life.



Families were comprised of a man and a woman with children living in a round house that would include other families and generations, especially in the cold months. Women tended to home based work, child care and planting while men were hunters and warriors. The environment was revered and studied, viewed as alive with lessons, trusted for providing necessities. Deer, turkey, geese, fish, shell fish and berries were abundant. Fields and open spaces were burned off twice yearly to stifle growth and enhance crops, while swamps with thick forests, inhabited by the plenteous beaver served as refuge from danger.



We know much more about Elizabethan England in the early 1600s, estate, farm and village based. Nobility ruled as the landed aristocracy. A rising gentry sought to find fortune and land, fed by the economy of trade that began to reach to other shores. Working on the estates were yeomen, farmers who with good fortune were issued, loaned or sold modest plots of land for farms and herds. When the harvest was abundant, villages bustled with craftsmen, artisans and merchants.



A large servant class was estate based and included the unskilled, those bonded to service for stated years, a documented contract between parties. Children of the poor were often given over to the owners of estates, farms or shops to learn a trade or to creditors. Indentured servants, age 15 and over, could be bonded for seven years or more to work off a debt, for a minor crime, or for passage to other shores.

New settlements in Ireland, called plantations, as the migrants were known as planters, were founded beginning in the 1500s amidst natives viewed as heathen and uncivilized. There was opportunity, land and resources on the horizon.



During this volatile religious and political time under Charles I, separatists coalesced in many villages in search of freedom from the newly formed Church of England and rallied by a communal ideal based upon Christian scripture. Led by pious gentry, separatist communities met in homes, comprised of the families of artisans and yeomen of modest means. They sought to return to the purity of the early church, with no papist hierarchy and ritual. After being derided as puritans, they began to embrace the label. They viewed themselves as chosen by God to found a new Israel, a purified community where they would have the freedom from the influence of others. They were ready to venture as pilgrims to seek out a new land, where they might settle and prosper.



II. The Journey of Separatists



Such a community had developed by 1600 in the inland town of Scooby, half way between bustling London and the border with Scotland. “Come out from among them and be ye separate saith the Lord and touch not the unclean thing” (Christian Scripture II Cor. 6:17) was the holy covenant for the some 300 faithful who gathered under the leadership of John Robinson and the younger William Bradford. As self proclaimed “saincts” they separated themselves from and increasingly defied Anglican doctrine and bishop and congregated independently, centered on their hearing and learning from the authority of Holy Scripture. Any outside their circle were known as “strangers.”



Isolation in matters of faith brought day to day social and economic strife and hardship. After a few years of intense scrutiny and growing persecution, the Scooby community resolved in 1611 to migrate to Leyden and the tolerant Netherlands across the North Sea (Club member Al Easton provided us with a valuable description last year). They claimed to be pilgrims but the capital P did not appear until the 19th century as a primary designation.



During the 10-year sojourn in Leyden under John Robinson’s compassionate and wise leadership, the community struggled to adjust to the seduction of a more tolerant culture, the younger generation less willing to remain separate. Longing led to resolve to relocate to a distant shore where they might live untainted by strangers. Plans were made by wealthy members to venture to a new Dutch colony across the seas, an “unpeopled” land. Contracts were signed with a Dutch trading company and merchants to secure the Mayflower and the smaller Speedwell to depart in the spring of 1620, to transport some 120 members. By the early summer supplies had not been secured by the merchants, deposits had disappeared and the separatists could only pay for half of the passage leading to just as many non-separatist strangers signing on.



The Speedwell proved to be unseaworthy so those passengers were taken into the Mayflower, already a miserable arrangement with insufficient food, beer and supplies, doubled up quarters and a late start for a three month westerly sail into frightening gale force winds. There was hardly enough provisions, most was consumed before the trip was half over, starvation, disease and death was rampant. The Mayflower Compact was written in this desperate situation, to band together against foreboding elements, as separatists and non-separatists, “into a civil body politic. . . to enact, constitute and frame. . . just and equal laws. . . for the general good of the colony.” In exasperating hours better nature prevailed and groundwork was set among the adventurers for civil consent to be instituted.



Upon sighting land in late November, still short of their destination of New Amsterdam, they scouted for the best locale in the arm of an extended cape and settled amidst ice and snow to a formerly inhabited clearing near a swamp. They learned later that this opportune spot had been abandoned by natives just a year before, due to an epidemic which had killed most of the Pokanoket peoples who lived there. “A virgin soil plague”, likely smallpox or influenza, had been transmitted by European traders. No sachem had the power to stave off the disease which killed over 90 percent of the native settlement. When the migrants learned of the plague they attributed it to God’s preparing the way for their welfare at the site they named Plymouth Plantation, after the port of their departure. From its inception it was an armed fortress and every settler carried a weapon.



III. Clash of Peoples and Cultures



There were primarily six nations among the eastern Algonquin peoples who shared a common language: the Pokanoket (later Wampanoags), Massachusett, Naragansett, Pequot, Nipmuc and Mohegan. The more western Naragansett and Mohegan nations had evaded the rampage of recent epidemics. They were professing new might and strength from gods that had spared them, leaving their weakened neighbors fearful of aggression. Skirmishes between warriors, kidnappings and the enslavement of captured neighbors resulted from border hostility but the preference was diplomacy, negotiated concessions and treaties to resolve disputes and solidify peace, always culminated with extensive ceremonies.



European traders were known to the native peoples for over 15 years prior to the first English settlement. Provisions, beaver and animal pelts were traded for metal tools, weapons and pots. In 1614, the abduction by Thomas Hunt and crew of 27 warriors who came on his ship with gifts to trade quickly spread as a hateful tale about the men with firing weapons who travelled in big ships. Hunt’s captives were either sold into slavery to the Spanish or taken against their will to England as evidence of the new mysterious land. The notorious Hunt kidnappings led the following year, 1615, to natives reciprocating by capturing a group of unsuspecting French traders, killing most and trading three into slavery. One native, Squanto, brought to England in servitude by Hunt was taught English and remarkably returned with traders in early 1621 to become a trusted translator and diplomatic courier. His subsequent efforts to undercut Massasoit, the Pokanoket sachem in tribal negotiations with the pilgrims led to his poisoning and death.



Natives who observed the appearance of the Mayflower kept their distance for months, fearing abduction or death. The presence of women and children and efforts to build strange wooden homes in clusters led natives to reconsider. Why would they settle at the site of horrifying sickness, death and sorrow? Were their gods fearless? The migrants, meanwhile, hungrily dug up caches of stored native corn which did not trouble the observers since they had no sense of personal property. The Pokanokets were willing to share what they had to demonstrate goodwill. Massasoit, a sophisticated diplomat, weakened by the loss of most of his warriors to the epidemic, set to watch and wait. The new migrants fearfully knew they were being observed from a distance.



In March 1621, Squanto was sent to propose a meeting and hostages were exchanged leading to a face to face conference between Massasoit and the pilgrim’s Governor John Carver accompanied by William Bradford. They exchanged gifts and a libation and offered friendship. Massasoit upon drinking the aqua vit broke out in a cold sweat. Tensions were high but an agreement with six points was reached that day. Parties resolved not to injure or hurt each other, to send any offender for punishment, to restore tools, to aid each other in the event “any did unjustly war” against one of them, to deliver confederates, and to leave their weapons behind when visiting. In his nation’s weakened state Massasoit had found a new ally. When pilgrims carried their muskets to a follow up ceremony even as the natives laid down their bows, Massasoit’s brother called them to respect the treaty. Firearms were then set aside, the treaty tested in its first hours.



Other native peoples were wary of the new settlers and allied to watch developments. In 1623, when Massasoit became deathly ill with typhus and was reported to have already died, Edward Winslow volunteered to visit the village to pay respects, finding Massasoit still alive and petitioning for medicine to restore his health. Winslow cooked up a pottage and Massasoit remarkably improved and the alliance was saved. A civil and diplomatic approach with natives continued to calm the waters and Winslow’s ability was lauded.



A new settlement at Wassagusett, north of Plymouth, was a disaster of poor planning and starvation. The village’s intrusion had provoked the Massachusett tribe, English hostages were being held and a rumor arose that natives were mobilizing against all English settlers to wipe them out. Massasoit warned of the danger and advised an attack before hand, seemingly a way to diminish his neighboring enemies who had taken advantage of his people’s weakened state. The settlers, with no reliable intelligence of their own, agreed to attack.



Miles Standish, the colony’s military leader, led an armed party to Wassagusett in 1623 and was told by the settlers that though the situation was dire, the natives had in no way been threatening. Some settlers were even living in round houses with the native Massachusett. Challenged face to face in a meeting over a meal, Standish attacked two native emissaries and killed seven warriors who had come with them. This provocative incident, fed by rumor, became known as the Wassagusett massacre, the first military incident in the clash of cultures. Massachusett natives fled to the west, taking their stories to Mohegan territory. Conflict developed among Plymouth settlers about the use of military means. Word spread among the native peoples that murder and massacre could be expected; if you were not an ally you were an enemy. In the face of their intruders, native peoples came to refer to themselves as “original people” or ‘true people.” In Leyden, John Robinson, the Scooby community founder, was quite troubled when informed of the violent actions against natives.



IV. Various Migrations



Back in England, after almost a decade of heightened civil unrest and persecution of those opposed to the authority of the English throne and church, a significantly larger and more prosperous band of puritan believers crossed the sea in 1629 to the new found land of promise. A royal charter as the Massachusetts Bay Company had been secured and a fleet of 11 ships with 1,000 migrants, hundreds of livestock and chickens, departed from England led by John Winthrop in the ship Arabella, landing in summer to what would become Boston harbor. During the 1630s over 20,000 migrants would follow to the eastern shore of the colony, fanning out to enclaves in the circle of the harbor and to outposts beyond the eastern plains to inlets and along a steady river running north to south to a large sound. The 1630s became known as the decade of the great migration, the first land stampede of our history. Plymouth plantation with its tiny harbor became a backwater, little more than 300 as thousands of new arrivals reached these shores. By 1638 settlers outnumbered natives.



Various forms of servitude in colonial New England stemmed from the culture and mores of both natives and settlers. Neither were slaving societies that relied upon mass labor for military, agriculture or public works. As noted, natives had slaves primarily as the benefit of a war victory, often incorporating those captured into their family units, especially women and children. Men who were slaves might also be given standing after some years of demonstrated trustworthiness and hard work.



The settlers brought with them lifelong servants as well as bonded servants in a contractual form of servitude. Slavery in the new settlements, as a justified form of property, grew out of political, social and economic developments, first as a result of outright war and then by colonial laws and judicial edicts. Later in the century slavery would become a major commodity in trans-Atlantic trade between England, the Americas and Africa. While the English settlers came with reliance upon a white servitude class, they readily accepted both servants and slaves of other races primarily for household labor in the new land. Settlers looked upon natives, marked by racial difference, as uncivilized savages living in an untamed wilderness who held heathen and magical beliefs. They would benefit as a servile class by civilizing Christian benefactors.



The constant flow and migration inland of settlers in the 1630s brought curiosity, wariness, consternation and fury within and among the native peoples of the area. Natives learned about the baffling notion of land ownership and sachems negotiated sales with eager settlers, at first for a few household items of trade and later for firearms and clothing, with little understanding of land value. Efforts by natives to stave off and concede to new arrivals did not stem the tide. The elders of the Bay and Plymouth colonies encouraged ( and evicted) newly arriving non-separatist strangers to move on to settlements west and south, leading to direct contact with all nations by the late 1630s. Recognition of the distinguishing characteristics between native peoples was evident but skin color was the defining reality. Natives were outsiders. Courts and laws began to define forms of social control and privileges in land purchases.



V. Violent Clashes and Slavery



The Pequot War of 1637 was the major development in the acceptance of slavery. Trade by the Bay Colony was extending to Dutch and other English colonies to the south and west. Clashes by new settlements in the west along the Connecticut River with native peoples included disputes over property and hunting rights, destruction of native crops by settler livestock, selling of alcohol and dishonest traders. In 1634, scores of the Pequot people, inhabiting what is now eastern Connecticut, died in a smallpox epidemic. The election of a new sachem led to a split with the Mohegans who then quickly allied with English settlers. Weakened to half their numbers, the Pequots felt cornered. A trader and founder of Wethersfield, John Oldham was killed in July of 1636, a killing attributed to Pequot natives and settlers called for punishment.



As tensions and rumors increased on the expanding frontiers, the role of separatist Roger Williams is valuable for our discussion (Harold Salzman in his recent Club paper cited Williams’ crucial role in fostering religious freedom). Expelled from the Bay Colony in 1636 for his heretical pronouncements, Williams ventured south with his followers to land purchased from Massasoit, adjacent to the land of the Pequots and Narragansetts. He had privately professed the necessity of what he referred to as “friendship” with natives as well as “civility and courtesy” since in his eyes they were not heathen. Williams was learning their language and seeking to understand their way of life and point of view. When it came to land issues, he claimed that they were more Christian than many settlers. Soon after his expulsion, however, he was petitioned by Bay Colony leaders to mediate their competing claims with natives, to seek an alliance with the Naragansetts and to convince the Pequots to lay down their arms, to cease raids and the taking of prisoners. The Pequots refused Williams’ offer of negotiated peace but the Naragansetts agreed to the alliance with the English, creating another significant division between the native peoples.



When the captains of several trading vessels were killed by natives in spring 1637, a united military party of the various settlements was sent south along the coast to attack the isolated Pequot tribe. Once again unconfirmed reports and rumors were fed by fear of the wilderness.



Coming upon the main Pequot settlement and fortress in May of 1637 near what is now Mystic, Connecticut, the united troops of the colonies, together with native allies, attacked and set them ablaze, shooting men, women and children who attempted to flee. At the end of the day over 500 Pequot natives had been massacred. Upon hearing the news Bradford wrote, “It was a fearful sight to see them frying in the fire… and horrible was the stink and scent thereof; but the victory seemed a sweet sacrifice, and they gave the praise thereof to God.”



Nothing intelligent can be said about a massacre. Settlers came to regard these actions not only as collateral to a just war but as a final way to solve the threat of the enemy.



The Pequot War brought new precedents. Justification about what to do with captives was acted on by the governing Bay colony court, namely as property to be sold into slavery for war expenses. Over 180 surviving women and children were sold within the colony and 124 men were sold and shipped out to Bermuda and the West Indies, lest they rise up and attack settlers. The surviving Pequot, some 2,000 in number, fled west and sought refuge with the Mohegan peoples though they were allies with the English. A fear of natives on the widening English frontier grew. Decades later courts were still ruling on runaway servants, now adults, bonded from the Pequot War.



With the onset of war, slavery became justified as a permanent and perpetual form of servitude. No contract or form of indenture was needed. Judicial edict began to solidify special colonial laws, joining Negroes and Indians as a different class, as property, deeded or otherwise. Such became an essential preface to the role of New England traders in the enslavement and transport of Africans to these shores. The civil contract was first and foremost for the settlers.



More extensive atrocities of war took place in the second generation, King William’s War in 1675-1676, pitting settlers with their native allies against other native peoples, losses by both sides in the thousands, the destruction of countless settler towns and a tragic diaspora of natives from our area. The prevailing rules of engagement had been set in the war of the first generation, the Pequot War. If we see our region’s heritage as the clash of peoples, one could surmise that our first civil war began within years of the settler’s arrival to these shores, more pointedly a series of wars and genocidal retaliations, which along with slavery has been lost in a darkened corner of our common history.



VI. Concluding Remarks



Historians have described three basic motives of European zeal to colonize the Americas in these early years: elements of fame, fortune and faith. Our English ancestors, separatists and non-separatists, were driven by a combination of destiny and righteousness, based on a covenant with God and a search for prosperity. What it meant to be a civil people, to provide for welfare in the face of an unnumbered enemy, to shape the common good, a commonwealth was being forged. We find formulations about just war, justified military action and the killing of civilians taking hold from the onset. Property rights came long before human rights in this civil contract.



One cultural historian described this period not as “good pilgrims and savage natives or dastardly pilgrims and innocent natives.” In the first decades of English arrival to our region migrants and natives could not peacefully live in the same territory due to divergent world views and ways of living, especially when an imbalance of populations and civil power increased.



Settlers had come with a quest to subdue an uninhabited wilderness. As colonies took root, a racial bias against darker skinned and uncivilized native peoples emerged. In the second generation, settlers founded what came to be known as praying towns where agreeable natives were clothed, their hair cut, a trade and domestic life taught as well as the ability to read and converse in English. They were to be civilized with the hopes that they would convert to and be matured in the Christian faith. The yoke of Christ was cited as a civilizing and humbling form of servant hood and social control.



In 1629, the Massachusett Bay Colony adopted a seal for the charter granted by King Charles I. Around the circumference were Latin words stating the “seal of the Society of Massachusetts Bay in New England.” The center depicts a native, clothed with leaves for a loin cloth holding a bow in the left hand and an arrow pointed downward in his right, depicting a gesture of peace. He stands on the land, two tiny pine trees to either side. The trail from his mouth read “Come over and help us.” The intent of the seal was to underscore the religious and economic benefits of colonization of the natives and land which the settlers were civilizing and creating into a commonwealth. Until recently this represents the prevailing interpretation of our history. The words stem from Christian scripture (Acts 16:9), where the Apostle Paul entreats missionaries to come over to Macedonia, crossing from what would be known as Asia Minor to Europe, to bring words of deliverance. The seal and subsequent revisions depict a native offering peace and seeking aid from the commonwealth.



In Slaughter House Five, Kurt Vonnegut, a US Army prisoner of war, recounts his survival of the bombing of Dresden in World War II and his effort to make sense of a world where massacres, on whatever scale, continue to occur. He exclaims to Sam, the publisher offering him the contract for his book, “there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre.” The passionate impulse or strategy to finish off the enemy, to wipe them out, is a feature of war. All that might be said finally is that such an impulse and strategy is part of our earliest history, a legacy to be held in the light of day.

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