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 AMERICA

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 20°E 40°E 60°E 80°E 100°E 120°E 140°E 160°E
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213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 6 10/28/15 1:37 AM
 •
b r ie f te nth e dition
volu m e 2

AMERICA
A Narrative History

David Emory Shi

George Brown Tindall

n
W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC.
New York • London

213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 7 10/28/15 1:37 AM

 W. W. Norton & Company has been independent since its founding in 1923,
when William Warder Norton and Mary D. Herter Norton first published
lectures delivered at the People’s Institute, the adult education division of
New York City’s Cooper Union. The firm soon expanded its program beyond
the Institute, publishing books by celebrated academics from America
and abroad. By midcentury, the two major pillars of Norton’s publishing
program—trade books and college texts—were firmly established. In the 1950s,
the Norton family transferred control of the company to its employees, and
today—with a staff of four hundred and a comparable number of trade, col­
lege, and professional titles published each year—W. W. Norton & Company
stands as the largest and oldest publishing house owned wholly by its
employees.

Copyright © 2016, 2013, 2010, 2007, 2004, 1999, 1996, 1992, 1988, 1984 by W. W. Norton &
Company, Inc.

All rights reserved

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Jon Durbin

Associate Editors: Justin Cahill and Scott Sugarman
Project Editors: Melissa Atkin and Linda Feldman
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Managing Editor, College Digital Media: Kim Yi
Production Manager: Ashley Horna
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Composition: Jouve North America
Manufacturing: Quad Graphics Taunton

Permission to use copyrighted material is included on page A151.

The Library of Congress has cataloged the full edition as follows:

Shi, David E. Tindall, George Brown.

America: a narrative history / David Emory Shi, George Brown Tindall.
Tenth edition. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2016.
Includes index.
LCCN 2015036484
ISBN 9780393265934 (hardcover)
LCSH: United States—History—Textbooks.
LCC E178.1 .T55 2017 DDC 973—dc23 LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015036484

This edition: 9780393265989 (pbk.)

W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 500 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10110-0017
wwnorton.com
W. W. Norton & Company Ltd., Castle House, 75/76 Wells Street, London W1T 3QT
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0

213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 8 10/28/15 1:37 AM

 FOR
MY WIFE,
ANGELA HALFACRE SHI

213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 9 10/28/15 1:37 AM

Visit https://textbookfull.com
now to explore a rich
collection of eBooks, textbook
and enjoy exciting offers!
213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 10 10/28/15 1:37 AM
 DAVID E. SHI is a professor of history and the
president emeritus of Furman University. He is the
author of several books on American cultural history,
including the award-winning The Simple Life: Plain
Living and High Thinking in American Culture and
Facing Facts: Realism in American Thought and
Culture, 1850–1920.

GEORGE B. TINDALL, recently of the University of

North Carolina, Chapel Hill, was an award-winning
historian of the South with a number of major books
to his credit, including The Emergence of the New
South, 1913–1945 and The Disruption of the Solid
South.

213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 11 10/28/15 1:37 AM

213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 12 10/28/15 1:37 AM
 CONTENTS

List of Maps • xix

Preface • xxi
Acknowledgments • xxix

16 The Era of Reconstruction,

1865–1877  578
The War’s Aftermath in the South 580 • Debates over Political
Reconstruction 582 • Blacks under Reconstruction 593 • The Grant
Administration 601 • Reconstruction’s Significance 610

PART FIVE GROWING PAINS 615

17 Business and Labor in the Industrial Era,

1860–1900  618
Industrial and Agricultural Growth 620 • The Rise of Big Business 630 •
The Alliance of Business and Politics 638 • An Industrial Society 640 •
The “Dreadful Chill of Change” 645

xiii

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 xiv  Contents

18 The New South and the New West,

1865–1900  658
The Myth of the New South 660 • The Failings of the New South 662 • Race
Relations during the 1890s 666 • The Settling of the New West 673 • Life in
the New West 680 • The Fate of Western Indians 685 • The End of the
Frontier 694

19 Political Stalemate and Rural Revolt,

1865–1900  698
Urban America 699 • The New Immigration 704 • Cultural Life 707 •
Gilded Age Politics 714 • Hayes to Harrison 717 • Farmers and the “Money
Problem” 727

PART SIX MODERN AMERICA 741

20 Seizing an American Empire, 1865–1913  744

Toward the New Imperialism 746 • Expansion in the Pacific 747 •
The Spanish-American War (The War of 1898) 750 • Consequences of
Victory 755 • Roosevelt’s “Big-Stick” Diplomacy 763

21 The Progressive Era, 1890–1920  776

The Progressive Impulse 778 • The Varied Sources of Progressivism 779 •
Progressives’ Aims and Achievements 786 • Progressivism under Roosevelt and
Taft 793 • Woodrow Wilson: A Progressive Southerner 804

22 America and the Great War, 1914–1920  816

An Uneasy Neutrality 818 • Mobilizing a Nation 826 • The American
Role in the War 831 • The Politics of Peace 837 • Stumbling from War to
Peace 845

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 Contents   xv

23 A Clash of Cultures, 1920–1929  852

A “New Era” of Consumption 854 • The “Jazz Age” 860 • The Modernist
Revolt 870

24 The Reactionary Twenties  878

Reactionary Conservatism and Immigration Restriction 879 • A Republican
Resurgence 888 • The Rise of Herbert Hoover 898 • The Causes of the Great
Depression 901 • The Human Toll of the Depression 905

25 The Great Depression, 1929–1939  912

From Hooverism to the New Deal 914 • Roosevelt’s New Deal 919 •
The New Deal under Fire 929 • The Second New Deal 936

26 The Second World War, 1933–1945  948

The Rise of Fascism in Europe 949 • From Isolationism to
Intervention 952 • Arsenal of Democracy 965 • The Allied Drive toward
Berlin 973 • The Pacific War 985 • A New Age Is Born 991

PART SEVEN THE AMERICAN AGE 997

27 The Cold War and the Fair Deal,

1945–1952  1000
Truman and the Cold War 1002 • The Containment Policy 1004 •
Expanding the New Deal 1011 • The Cold War Heats Up 1022 • Another Red
Scare 1028

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 xvi  Contents

28 Cold War America, 1950–1959  1034

Moderate Republicanism 1036 • A People of Plenty 1041 • Cracks in the
Picture Window 1049 • The Civil Rights Movement 1052 • Foreign Policy in
the Fifties 1060

29 
A New Frontier and a Great Society,
1960–1968  1074
The New Frontier 1076 • Civil Rights 1087 • The Great Society 1098 •
The Tragedy of Vietnam 1108 • The Turmoil of the Sixties 1114

30 Rebellion and Reaction, 1960s and 1970s  1120

“Forever Young”: The Youth Revolt 1122 • Social Activism Spreads 1128 •
Nixon and the Revival of Conservatism 1137 • “Peace with Honor”:
Ending the Vietnam War 1143 • The Nixon Doctrine and a Thawing
Cold War 1150 • Watergate 1154

31 Conservative Revival, 1977–1990  1164

The Carter Presidency 1166 • The Rise of Ronald Reagan 1172 • The Reagan
Revolution 1176 • An Anti-Soviet Foreign Policy 1183 • The Changing
Economic and Social Landscape 1188 • The Presidency of George H. W.
Bush 1191

32 Twenty-First-Century America,
1993–Present  1202
America’s Changing Population 1204 • The Clinton Presidency 1205 • A
Chaotic Start to a New Century 1215 • Second-Term Blues 1224 • A Historic
New Presidency 1227

Glossary  A1

Appendix  A67
The Declaration of Independence A67 • Articles of Confederation A72 •
The Constitution of the United States A80 • Amendments to the

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 Contents  xvii

Constitution A92 • Presidential Elections A104 • Admission of States A112 •

Population of the United States A113 • Immigration to the United States,
Fiscal Years 1820–2013 A114 • Immigration by Region and Selected Country
of Last Residence, Fiscal Years 1820–2013 A116 • Presidents, Vice Presidents,
and Secretaries of State A125

Further Readings  A131

Credits  A151

Index  A155

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213004_00_i-xxxiii_Vol2_r4_ma.indd 18 10/28/15 1:37 AM
 MAPS

Reconstruction, 1865–1877 599

Transcontinental Railroad Lines, 1880s 630
Sharecropping and Tenancy, 1880–1900 665
The New West 676–677
Indian Wars 693
The Emergence of Large Cities, 1880 702
The Emergence of Large Cities, 1920 703
The Election of 1896 737
U.S. Interests in the Pacific 760
U.S. Interests in the Caribbean 766
Women’s Suffrage, 1869–1914 785
The Election of 1912 806
The Great War in Europe, 1914 820
The Great War, the Western Front, 1918 835
Europe after the Treaty of Versailles, 1918 841
The Election of 1932 919
Aggression in Europe, 1935–1939 955
Japanese Expansion before the Attack on Pearl Harbor 962
World War II in Europe and Africa, 1942–1945 980
World War II in the Pacific, 1942–1945 988
The Occupation of Germany and Austria 1011
The Election of 1948 1021
The Korean War, 1950 and 1950–1953 1026
The Election of 1952 1038
Postwar Alliances: The Far East 1065
Postwar Alliances: Europe, North Africa, the Middle East 1069
The Election of 1960 1079
Vietnam, 1966 1111
The Election of 1968 1116

xix

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Visit https://textbookfull.com
now to explore a rich
collection of eBooks, textbook
and enjoy exciting offers!
 xx  Maps

The Election of 1980 1177

The Election of 1988 1192
The Election of 2000 1216
The Election of 2004 1224
The Election of 2008 1229

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 PREFACE

T
his Tenth Edition of America: A Narrative History seeks to improve
upon a textbook grounded in a compelling narrative history of the
American experience. From the start of our collaboration in 1984,
George Tindall and I strove to write an engaging book focused on
political and economic developments but animated by colorful characters, in-
formed by balanced analysis and social texture, and guided by the unfolding
of key events. Those classic principles, combined with a handy format and low
price, have helped make America: A Narrative History one of the most popular
and well-respected American history textbooks. This brief edition, which I
have crafted by streamlining the narrative by nearly 20 percent, remains the
most coherent and lively of its kind.
This Tenth Brief Edition of America features a number of important
changes designed to make the text more teachable and classroom-friendly.
Chief among them are major structural changes, including the joining of
several chapters to reduce the overall number from thirty-four to thirty-two
as well as the resequencing of several chapters to make the narrative flow
more smoothly for students. Major organizational changes include:
• New Chapter 6, Strengthening the New Nation, combines Shaping a
Federal Union and The Federalist Era from previous editions to better
integrate the events after the Revolution.
• New Chapter 19, Political Stalemate and Rural Revolt, 1865–1900
combines The Emergence of Urban America and Gilded Age Politics and
Agrarian Revolt from previous editions to connect the clash of urban and
rural cultures.
In terms of content changes, the overarching theme of the new edition is the
importance of the culture of everyday life in understanding American history.
While an introductory textbook must necessarily focus on major political,
constitutional, diplomatic, economic, and social changes, it is also important
to understand how ordinary people managed everyday concerns: housing,
jobs, food, recreation, religion, and entertainment.
xxi

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 xxii  Preface

I have looked to broaden the political narrative by incorporating more

social and cultural history into the text, primarily using the refreshed and
expanded coverage of the culture of everyday life as the main vehicle for
doing so. Key new discussions include:
• Chapter 1, The Collision of Cultures, features new material about
Native American religious beliefs and practices as well as aspects of
everyday life.
• Chapter 2, England’s Colonies, provides additional insights into the status
of indentured servants and slavery in the colonies.
• Chapter 3, Colonial Ways of Life, includes a new portrait of Antonio, an
enslaved African brutalized by his Dutch owner in Maryland in the
mid-seventeenth century. There is also new material about colonial
houses, taverns, diets, and the competition among American colonists for
British luxury goods in the 1760s and 1770s.
• Chapter 4, From Colonies to States, has more material on the
nonimportation efforts (boycotts of British goods imported into America)
led by ordinary Americans. It also includes new material about the
conversion of farmers into soldiers after the shooting at Lexington and
Concord.
• Chapter 5, The American Revolution, 1776–1783, includes more material
about slaves who took advantage of the war to escape or join the British
forces, and about the ways in which women, Native Americans, and slaves
became engaged in the war effort.
• Chapter 6, Strengthening the New Nation, includes more about Shays’s
Rebellion and other expressions of agrarian discontent across the nation
that occurred after the Revolution, and more on how women, Native
Americans, and slaves figured into the thinking of the Founding Fathers
during the Constitutional Convention in 1787.
• Chapter 7, The Early Republic, 1800–1815, has new material on the way in
which the War of 1812 affected slavery/blacks.
• Chapter 8, The Emergence of a Market Economy, 1815–1850, includes new
discussions of the emergence of the cotton culture in the South, the
nature of farming, canals, boats, and steamship travel, and the plight of
the Irish fleeing the famine at home and heading to America.
• Chapter 9, Nationalism and Sectionalism, 1815–1828, more fully fleshes
out the role of labor advocates and unions in helping to forge what would
become the Jacksonian movement.
• Chapter 10, The Jacksonian Era, 1828–1840, describes the effects of the
Panic of 1837 and the ensuing depression on the working poor.

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 Preface  xxiii

• Chapter 11, The South, Slavery, and King Cotton, 1800–1860, has
substantial new material related to slavery, cotton, and everyday life
within African American society. There is also a new discussion of a New
Orleans slave uprising led by Charles Deslondes in 1811, the largest slave
revolt in American history.
• Chapter 12, Religion, Romanticism, and Reform, 1800–1860, includes
enriched treatment of the revivalism of the Second Great Awakening, a
rewritten discussion of Mormonism, and a new section on Sylvester
Graham and his health reform movement (Grahamism).
• Chapter 13, Western Expansion, 1830-1848, is enlivened by textured
portraits of John Fremont and Sam Houston and a much fuller profile of
James K. Polk.
• Chapter 15, The War of the Union, 1861–1865, includes new material
about the social history of the Civil War, including more material on the
everyday life of common soldiers, rioting in opposition to the military
draft, and backwoods violence rarely included in discussions of the war,
such as the summary of the execution of thirteen Unionists in Madison
County, North Carolina.
• Chapter 16, The Era of Reconstruction, 1865–1877, has more material
about former slaves—from their perspective. It also includes new
examples of the ways in which the Freedmen’s Bureau helped negotiate
labor contracts between white planters and freedmen.
• Chapter 17, Business and Labor in the Industrial Era, 1860–1900, discusses
the emergence of a new middle class during the Gilded Age, and includes
substantially revised material on women’s and labor history.
• Chapter 18, The New South and the New West, 1865–1900, includes a
rewritten section on the emergence of new racial segregation in the
South, and also new material about the everyday realities of Western
expansion.
• Chapter 21, The Progressive Era, 1890–1920, includes new sections on the
attitudes of Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson concerning race.
• Chapter 22, America and the Great War, 1914–1920, now discusses the
war’s social effects in the United States, with special attention to women,
blacks, and Mexican Americans. There is also new material about the
grim nature of trench warfare.
• Chapter 23, A Clash of Cultures, 1920–1929, includes new material on the
consumer culture, women’s history, and revised material on the Harlem
Renaissance with a new profile of Zora Neale Hurston. There are also
fresh treatments of the impact of the radio, automobiles, cinema, and
airplanes.

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 xxiv  Preface

• Chapter 26, The Second World War, 1933–1945, includes new material
about the social effects of the war at home, including the wartime
experience of Mexican Americans.
• Chapter 27, The Cold War and the Fair Deal, 1945–1952, includes new
coverage of George Kennan’s role in inspiring the containment doctrine,
women industrial workers, and also the efforts of Latinos to gain equal
rights in the aftermath of World War II.
• Chapter 28, Cold War America, 1950-1959, features enhanced treatments
of the emerging civil rights movement.
• Chapter 29, A New Frontier and a Great Society, 1960–1968, includes a
new portrait of Fannie Lou Hamer, a black Mississippi activist, in the
section on the early civil rights movements.
• Chapter 30, Rebellion and Reaction, 1960s and 1970s, includes new
material on the women’s movement, Mexican Americans, and Native
Americans.
• Chapter 32, Twenty-First-Century America, 1993–Present, features
developments in the twenty-first century—the presidency of Barack
Obama , the killing of al-Qaida leader Osama bin Laden, the emergence of
the Tea Party and the Occupy Wall Street movements—as well as the
stagnant economy in the aftermath of the Great Recession.
In addition, I have incorporated throughout this edition fresh insights from
important new scholarly works dealing with many significant topics. Whether
you consider yourself a political, social, cultural, or economic historian, you’ll
find new material to consider and share with your students.
As part of making the new editions even more teachable and classroom
friendly, the new Tenth Brief Edition of America: A Narrative History also
makes history an immersive experience through its innovative pedagogy and
digital resources. Norton InQuizitive for History—Norton’s groundbreaking,
formative, and adaptive new learning program—enables both students and
instructors to assess learning progress at the individual and classroom level.
The Norton Coursepack provides an array of support materials—free to
instructors—who adopt the text for integration into their local learning-
management system. The Norton Coursepack includes valuable assessment
and skill-building activities like new primary source exercises, guided
reading exercises, review quizzes, and interactive map resources. In addition,
we’ve created new Office Hours videos that help students understand the
Focus Questions and make history relevant for them (see pages xxv–xxvii for
information about student and instructor resources).

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Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
to them bashfully—
“Oh, you have no idea how nervous I was at first! My poor little
knees were actually shaking under me.”
“Were they? I did not notice them,” rejoined Mrs. Brande in her
severest manner; and listeners allowed that on this occasion “old
mother Brande had scored!”
Mrs. Langrishe the next morning, having first fortified herself with a
glass of wine, entered her niece’s bower, in order to administer a
really sound scolding, the gist of which was (as repeated by the
listening Ayah to other deeply interested domestics, as she took a
pull at the cook’s huka)—
“As long as you are in my house, and under my care, you must
behave yourself properly. If this is impossible, as I fear it is, I shall
send you straight home. The Ayah will take you to Bombay, and see
you off second-class, though the class that best suits your manners
is really the steerage. Your acting, and, to a certain extent, your
dancing, was all very well; but I do not wonder that Mrs. Brande was
shocked at your dress, or rather the want of it—scarcely below your
knees!”
“Mrs. Brande is a narrow-minded old toad!” cried Lalla
contemptuously. “I don’t believe she was ever in an English theatre
in her life. She should see some of the dresses at home!”
“This is not the way to get yourself settled, and you know it,”
pursued her aunt. “It was most fortunate that Sir Gloster was not
present—he is a man with very correct ideas.”
“That stupid, sluggish bumpkin! what are his ideas to me?” scoffed
Lalla, with a maddening smile.
“I wish he had an idea of you,” retorted her aunt. “I’m sure I should
be most thankful. However, you are aware that we go down in four
months, and remember, that this is your last chance!”
Hereupon, according to the Ayah, Miss Sahib “plenty laugh.”
But Miss Sahib evidently laid the advice to heart. For a few days
she was extremely piano and demure, accepting her recently-won
honours and the appellation of “Miss Taglioni” with an air of meek
protest that was simply delightful.
The play was soon succeeded by a concert at the club; and here
Miss Gordon, with her violin, put Miss Paske completely in the shade
for once. What a contrast they presented. The little smirking, bowing,
grimacing figure in pink, with clouds of fluffy hair, and banjo,
streaming with gay ribbons, who made up for lack of voice, by
expression, chic, and impudence, and threw Tommy Atkins, in the
four anna seats, into a delirium of enthusiasm.
Then came the tall young lady in white, with statuesque arms, who
gradually cast a spell of enchantment over her listeners, and held the
emotions of her audience in the hollow of the small hand that guided
her bow.
For once Mrs. Brande felt conscious that Honor had quite, as she
mentally expressed it, “snuffed out that brazen little monkey,” and
though personally she preferred the banjo and nigger melodies, the
audience in the two rupee places apparently did not, for they
applauded enthusiastically, and stamped and shouted, “Encore!
encore!” and seemed ready to tear the house down. And even young
Jervis, usually so retiring and undemonstrative, had clapped until he
had split his gloves.
Mrs. Langrishe was not behindhand with her plaudits. She would
not leave it in any one’s power to declare that she was jealous of
Miss Gordon’s overwhelming success, but to herself she said—
“Oh, if Honor Gordon was but her niece! How thankfully would she
exchange relations with Mrs. Brande. Here was a simple, well-bred
girl, who could shine anywhere, and was quite thrown away in her
present hands. It was true that Sir Gloster seemed much struck;
everyone saw that, except the girl herself, and her old bat of an aunt.
He had never taken his eyes off her, as she stood before the
footlights, and she had made an undeniably charming picture, slim
and graceful, with an old-fashioned air of maidenly dignity, and how
she played!”
 She glanced at her own special young lady, now coming forward
to sing yet another ditty, amidst the uproarious encouragement of the
back benches.
Lalla was pretty, her fair soft hair was wisped up anyhow (a
studied art), her eyes were bright, her style piquante, but her
expression was everything, and oh, what a little demon she was!
And then she sang—certainly she was the most successful
cantatrice who ever sang without a voice.
“What a charming inmate your niece must be, Mrs. Langrishe,”
observed a lady next her. “So amusing and bright, quite a sunbeam
in the house.”
To which the poor martyr rejoined with a somewhat rigid smile, “Oh
yes, indeed, quite delightful.”
She envied Mrs. Brande her treasure still more, when, as they
were leaving the club, she noticed Honor affectionately wrapping up
her aunt—for it had turned out a wet night—and making some playful
joke as she tied a hood under her ample chin. Her niece had helped
herself to the only mackintosh, and had rolled away in her rickshaw,
among the first flight, with a young man riding beside her.
“She went off with Toby Joy! I really am astonished that Mrs.
Langrishe allows her to be so independent,” said a voice (a
woman’s) in the dark, close beside that ill-used lady, and happily
unaware of her vicinity.
Miserable Mrs. Langrishe, if they only knew all, the most stony-
hearted would surely commiserate her.
She returned home alone, firmly resolved to give Lalla a talking to,
but when she arrived—her anger had ebbed. She discovered the
culprit reclining in an easy-chair, smoking a friendly cigarette with
Granby, and entertaining him with inimitable mimicry of some of her
fellow performers.
“Oh, so you have appeared at last!” cried Lalla, with languid
surprise. “Fie, fie, how late you are, darling! I’ve been home ages. I
took the waterproof to cover up my beloved banjo—I ‘wrapped it up
in its tarpaulin jacket,’ you know the song. I was sure, as I did not
see you, that some horrible bore had got hold of you, and I knew you
would hate to keep me waiting in the rain, so I dashed off home at
once.”
 CHAPTER XXI.
THE GREAT STARVATION PICNIC.

The “picnic” season at Shirani set in with unexampled severity.

There were tea picnics—an inexpensive form of entertainment, dear
to the economically disposed, who flattered themselves that they
could wipe out all social debts by a table-cloth spread on a mossy
slope (within an easy ride from cantonment), and to this they bid
their friends in order to partake of cheap fruit, bazaar-made cake,
and smoked tea—the selected “view” supplying every deficiency.
There were snug little select tea-parties, where the viands were
dainty and luxurious, and to match the company—appetizing
luncheons, carried off to be discussed miles away under pine trees,
and facing indistinct blue valleys and brilliantly white peaks; and of
all these expeditions, the “Noah’s Ark” picnic was indisputably the
most popular.
In June the climate, society, scenery of Shirani all pointed to
picnics, with again picnics, and more picnics. They were
unceremonious, easily enjoyed, easily declined. New-comers from
below, after a month among dim cool pine woods, or a critical study
of a deep valley, clothed with gorgeous forest trees, blazing with red,
pink, and white rhododendrons, found it difficult to believe that there
was such a place far beneath them as tawny-coloured hard-baked
plains, over which, instead of a delicate fragrant breeze, roared the
brazen-mouthed blast of the fire-eating hot winds. The al fresco
season culminated in a “married ladies’” picnic—chiefly got up by
Mrs. Langrishe and Mrs. Brande. There had been a committee
meeting at the ladies’ room at the club; Mrs. Langrishe was voted
secretary—being very capable with her pen. The conference had
been held with closed doors—solemn—and secret.
All the same, some of the motions and arrangements had leaked
out. It was known that Mrs. Brande had volunteered to provide the
champagne—also fowls, hams, and raised pies. Mrs. Sladen was
down for afternoon tea, cups and saucers, milk, sugar, and cake.
Mrs. Dashwood provided cheroots, cigarettes, and pegs.
Mrs. Loyd, the sweets, tarts, jellies, and méringues.
Mrs. Clark, the soup.
Mrs. Glover, the ices. The thing was to be done in style.
Mrs. Paul, the Padré’s wife (having a large family), was let off with
coffee.
“Your own cups and spoons of course,” added the secretary
imperatively.
Mrs. Langrishe—there was a long-drawn breath of expectancy, as
she read out her own name, “Well, she would provide the
appointments, table-cloths, and napkins, plates, knives and forks,
bread, salad—and water.” There was a pause, and she continued
impressively—
“It was not every one who would care to risk their nice things” (she
would borrow from Manockjee, the Parsee shop); “but she would
venture,” and her meek coadjutors accepted her contribution just as
gratefully as Mrs. Brande’s champagne and ham. It was one of her
usual master strokes, and the picnic would cost her nothing, beyond
the use of some house linen and a few loaves of bread.
All the station were to be invited; the place selected was five miles
from Shirani; the guests were to assemble at Mrs. Langrishe’s
house. With her usual ability, she took the entire honours upon
herself, and got the whole credit of the entertainment in anticipation.
Of course it was to be a Noah’s Ark affair.
The company met at half-past eleven at “St. Germain’s” (Major
Langrishe’s Bungalow), and Mrs. Brande, who was supplying the
most expensive portion of the feast, felt it a little hard to be received
as a guest by the woman who was only bringing crockery and table-
cloths,—indeed all the hostesses were secretly restive and
displeased. The ladies dipped their hands into a basket and each
drew out a man’s name (their fate) on a slip of paper, and although
Lalla believed that she had thrust him well down to the bottom—with
a little twist in the paper, so that she could recognize it herself—
Honor drew the prize, in the shape of Sir Gloster Sandilands, to that
gentleman’s transparent delight. Subsequently Honor offered to
exchange him, or draw again, when Lalla sharply assured her that
“there was some mistake—that his name had been written twice,
and that she had also drawn the baronet.” Finally it was arranged
that Honor and Lalla should divide—Honor to ride to the picnic with
Mr. Jervis, and Lalla with Sir Gloster, and to exchange cavaliers on
the return journey. Thus the affair was amicably settled. Honor would
have been thankful to have avoided the baronet altogether: she had
more than a dim idea that he liked her, and he was always talking to
her about his place at home, and his mother, and saying how much
he wished that he could introduce her to both. Mrs. Brande could not
complain that he did not call: on one pretext or other, he came every
day, bringing a book, or a paper, or looking in to ask the name of
some wild flower, or for a cup of tea, or without any excuse at all, but
simply to sit and stare at Honor Gordon.
Mrs. Brande was not quite such a blind bat as some people
supposed. This possible match had some advantages. It would all
but be the death of Mrs. Langrishe! her niece would be Lady
Sandilands; but, on the other hand, she could not bear to lose
Honor! Shirani had its eyes wide open also, and Mrs. Daubeny had
countermanded her daughter’s two new dresses.
At last the cortège set out for the scene of their next meal, some
riding, some on foot, many ladies in dandies. The distance was five
miles, through leafy dells, green glades, and steep paths cut out
through the forest. Captain Waring had drawn the heiress, and was
happy; Sir Gloster was with Lalla, who was radiant. There was a
considerable distance between some couples, whilst others kept as
close together as a girls’ school.
“I did not know that dogs were invited to picnics!” exclaimed a
querulous voice from a dandy, coming up behind Miss Gordon, Mr.
Jervis, and Ben.
 “Ben had a special card of invitation all to himself, Mrs.
Dashwood,” replied his owner.
“Well, I trust he is the only one of his species that has been thus
honoured, and that it is not going to be a precedent.”
“Don’t you like dogs?” inquired Jervis.
“No, I’m desperately afraid of them, and they seem to know it. The
only dog I could possibly bring myself to tolerate would be a dog
without teeth! Well, I must be pushing on—I hope you are making
yourself very agreeable to Miss Gordon, Mr. Jervis?” she added
playfully.
“I’m afraid not. My stock of ideas is rather low; perhaps you can
suggest some novel and interesting topic.”
“Your own life and adventures,” cried the lady, as she passed
ahead of them; “try that.”
“What were we talking about?” said Jervis. “Shall we go back to
the last remark but six?”
“Easier said than done,” rejoined his companion gaily; “we must
start a fresh subject.”
“Well, I doubt if my life and adventures would be of thrilling
interest,” he continued, turning to Honor, and it struck her that she
had never once heard her present companion allude in any way to
his home or his belongings. This was a beautiful opening, if he would
but avail himself of it.
“Mrs. Dashwood has set me a stiff task—it is not every one’s
fortune to have an adventurous career.” (If all tales were true,
sensational events had largely punctuated the lady’s own history.)
“Now, which would you rather have—interesting falsehoods, or very
dull truths?”
“Neither, I think.”
“And what about your life and adventures?”
“Oh, I have spent most of my days in a quiet little village, and can
scarcely recall a single incident, except that I once upset a donkey
cart!”
“I can go one better, as they say, for I have upset a coach!” then
he coloured and added hastily, and as if he deprecated any
questions, “I too have led a common-place life. I was born out here,
and was not sent home until I was six, for which reason I find my
native tongue has come back to me.”
“It has indeed—I have often been amazed at your extraordinary
fluency in talking Hindostani; I thought that you had a marvellous
talent for languages.”
“Which I have not, nor indeed for anything.”
“Miss Paske says that you have a talent for silence,” said Honor
demurely.
“Miss Paske’s sayings are being quoted all over the place, with the
weight of so many proverbs! She says women do all their thinking in
church. She declares that her sex lie from timidity—and nothing else.
Shall I continue?”
“No; I should prefer your own original remarks, to Miss Paske at
second hand,” said Honor, “though I confess that I am responsible
for introducing her into the conversation. After you came from India,
what did you do?”
“I went to school—from school to college—then I lived in London,
off and on, till I came out here. Our joint lives and adventures don’t
amount to much! I am always longing for some uncommon
experience, but such things seem to fight shy of me.”
“Look! There is poor Mrs. Sladen on that horrid pulling pony,”
interrupted Honor suddenly; “she is dreadfully afraid of it, but dare
not say so——”
“Being between the devil and the deep sea?”
“Which is the deep sea? Colonel Sladen or the Budmash?” asked
the young lady with an air of innocent inquiry.
“Whichever you please. I believe ages ago, when he was young
and active, Sladen was a first-class man on a horse, and rode races.
Who would think it to look at him now? he weighs about seventeen
stone!”
“And completely upsets the old theory, that fat people are always
good-natured!”
“He is keen enough about horses and ponies still; you may notice
that he has always good animals.”
“Good to look at,” amended Miss Gordon quickly.
“Yes, and to go as well; and as he cannot ride them to sell, as he
used to do once, he now thrusts poor unfortunate Mrs. Sladen into
the saddle. The Noah’s Ark animals have not been so badly paired,”
continued the young man. “Please look at the Dâk Bungalow fowl
walking with the European ham! Do you think the combination was
premeditated?”
“No, purely accidental, I should imagine. I must say that I think it is
a shame, the way people are given nick-names!”
“I suppose it is an idle amusement for idle minds. I believe that I
have been honoured with one or two new names myself—I don’t
mind in the least—and I happen to know for a fact that Waring is
extremely pleased with his!”
“Which is more than would be the case with most people. For
instance, do you suppose that Miss Cook would be pleased to hear
that she is known as ‘good plain Cook’?”
“Well, you know our nurses used to tell us, that it is better to be
good than beautiful! And here we are!”
The rendezvous was now reached, Honor and her companion
being almost the last to arrive. There was a superb and
uninterrupted view of the snows, but the sight of something to eat
would have been preferred by some folk. What had become of the
coolies and the tiffin? The table-cloths were spread (and even
decorated), but save for some bowls of salad, and a meagre
allowance of rolls, nothing eatable was to be seen.
Inquiries were made, and at last the dreadful news began to
circulate, at first by degrees, and was then officially confirmed. The
luncheon had been lost!
Mrs. Langrishe and Mrs. Brande’s khansamahs—who were at the
head of affairs—were deadly rivals. Mrs. Langrishe’s man wished to
be leader (like his mistress); he laid down the law, and he ordered
every one’s coolies and servants to place themselves under his
directions. “Instead of being quiet and shamed, as he ought to have
been, the—the nouker” (i.e. servant) “of a mem sahib who only sent
empty plates.” This was the idea of Mrs. Brande’s khansamah, and
to his opinion he gave loud and angry utterance. A desperate quarrel
ensued. He said the lunch was to be sent to one place—Mrs.
Brande’s man declared as emphatically that it was to be despatched
to another. The latter was the most powerful, and carried his point,
and what was worse, carried all the other servants and coolies away
with him! At this moment they were carefully laying out a really
excellent repast, at a favourite rendezvous, exactly seven miles on
the other side of Shirani, and twelve from the present hungry
company.
Mrs. Langrishe’s fare—yes, it had leaked out—was all that was to
be set before them!
Some people were extremely angry. Colonel Sladen, who had
valued his thirst at ten rupees—not that any one was anxious to
purchase it—was really almost beside himself! Sir Gloster, though he
was in love, looked desperately glum. “Ben” Brande, I must honestly
confess, was visibly disappointed. Dry bread and salad were not in
his line, and he had affectionate recollections of a delicious smell
from his mistress’s cook house. Some people laughed—Honor and
her companion were amongst the most hilarious.
Mrs. Langrishe was shown in her true colours for once, and had
retired into somewhat mortified retreat under a neighbouring rock.
Mrs. Brande was overwhelmed. “Where,” she asked with tears in her
voice, “was her khansamah? Where were her raised pies, her
Grecian salad, her iced asparagus?” But though her hospitable soul
was vexed, she was not sorry that her rival’s generous share should
be thus set forth before every eye.
 The party, on the whole, took this unparalleled catastrophe
uncommonly well. They ate dry bread (with or without salt), drank
water, and wound up with lettuces. Afterwards the men smoked
themselves into complete serenity. If there had only been tea, but,
alas! the tea had followed the infamous example of the champagne.
Naturally such a lunch had not taken long to despatch. What was
to be done? How was the next empty hour to be put in?
And here Miss Lalla Paske came forward, and threw herself into
the gap. In after days, her aunt always credited Lalla with one good
action.
Rising, without waiting to catch any one’s eye, she slowly
sauntered off with her little swaggering air, and mounting a mossy
rock, and arranging herself in a picturesque attitude, despatched a
cavalier for her banjo, which she presently began to thrum, and had
soon (as she desired) collected a crowd. When she had assembled
a sufficiently large audience, she struck up a nigger melody, with
admirable art and liveliness, and instantly every male voice was
joining in the chorus. Mrs. Langrishe and Mrs. Brande arrived
together upon the scene, and beheld the sprightly Lalla, the centre of
attraction, mounted on an impromptu throne, surrounded by
admirers. Such moments were some of her unhappy aunt’s few
compensations. Oh! if one of these admirers would but come forward
and ask for the delicate, wiry little hand, now so skilfully thrumming a
ranche melody.
The fair songstress made a charming picture, she had the family
instinct for effect,—her supple figure was thrown into delightful relief
by a dense green background, and one pretty little foot dangled
carelessly over a slab of rock—such a pretty little foot, in such a
pretty little shoe!
And where was Mrs. Brande’s niece? Standing among the crowd,
a mere spectator of her rival’s success. All at once Lalla suddenly
handed her banjo to Sir Gloster, and said briskly—
“Now, who would like their fortunes told? Please don’t all speak
together.”
 “Lalla is really marvellous,” whispered Mrs. Langrishe to her
companion. “She has made quite a study of palmistry, and is most
successful.”
Mrs. Brande looked severely incredulous, but she could see that
Lalla was now closely invested by a circle of outspread palms, and a
clamouring crowd of would-be clients. (Some people declared that
this accomplishment was merely an excuse on Miss Paske’s part for
holding men’s hands, and that she knew absolutely nothing of the
gipsy’s art, but was a shrewd judge of character, and made up
cleverly as she went along.) Also another notable and highly
suspicious fact—she invariably meted out the most alarming fortunes
to those she did not like. She appeared to take a vindictive pleasure
in calmly expatiating on their impending calamities, and made the
most sinister announcements with a smile.
At present she was examining Mrs. Brande’s hand, with a
puckered, thoughtful brow.
She had not time to do all the hands, she declared, and those she
did undertake must be entirely of her own selection.
“You have had an unexpected share of this world’s goods,” she
stated at last, raising her voice, so that every syllable was audible.
“You will always be well-to-do, but your present hopes will be
disappointed. In the course of time, your life will undergo a change.
You are threatened with softening of the brain—yes! your head line
runs down upon the moon—you will probably be an incurable idiot,
and bed-ridden for many years.”
“Thank you,” cried Mrs. Brande, snatching away her fat hand.
“That will do me for the present;” and she fell back among the crowd,
muttering disjointed sentences, that sounded like “London—had up
in police-court, fortune-telling against the law—six months’ hard
labour.” But Mrs. Brande’s terrible fate and smothered indignation
failed to dissuade others, in answer to Miss Lalla’s clear—
“The next.”
Miss Ryder, a pretty girl, with fair hair, and pathetic blue eyes,
came timidly forward, and gazed pleadingly at the oracle.
 “Yes—humph,” critically examining Miss Ryder’s pink palm. “Your
head is entirely governed by your heart, and oh dear me! there is a
dreadful cross on the heart line, a broken marriage. No,” turning the
hand sideways, “I see no marriage line on your hand, but a great
many small worries; truthfulness is not an attribute—no; you will live
long, and enjoy fairly good health.”
Miss Ryder shrank back, with a distinctly sobered countenance,
and in answer to the fortune-teller’s desire, Mark Jervis was pushed
forward. He tendered his hand reluctantly, and only for the
Englishman’s usual hatred of a fuss, would have withheld it
altogether. Miss Paske disliked Mr. Jervis with his cool, ambiguous
manner—he was a mere hanger on, scarcely worth powder and
shot, but he was a friend of Honor Gordon’s, and she would make
him ridiculous for her benefit!
“Oh, what a hand!” she exclaimed, with a scornful laugh. “A fair
enough head line, a great capacity for holding your tongue,
especially on any subject concerning yourself. You do not think it
necessary to tell the whole truth on all occasions.” This was a
palpable home-thrust, for in the face of half Shirani, Mark Jervis
coloured visibly. “Secret, clear-headed, with great self-command.
Yes; you would make a fine conspirator, and I think you are a bit of
an impostor.” Again the colour deepened in the subject’s tan cheek.
“Line of heart nil. Fate much broken, I see—the mark of some kind of
imprisonment; a life solitary and apart,” and holding the palm nearer
to her eyes, “there is a great and unexpected change of fortune in
store for you, which entails trouble. And there is the mark—of a
violent death, or you will be the cause of another person’s death—
the lines,” dropping his hand with a hopeless gesture, “are really too
faint to read anything more with success.”
“Thanks awfully; it is very good of you to let me down so easily. I
know you see a halter in my hand, but have wished to spare my
feelings.”
Lalla looked at him indignantly—he was laughing. How dared he
laugh at her?
“Now, Sir Gloster, it is your turn”—beckoning to him graciously.
 Sir Gloster thrust out a very large, soft, white hand, and said, “This
is worse than the stool of repentance. If you discover anything very
bad, I implore you to whisper it in my ear, my dear Miss Paske.”
“Now, this really is a hand!” she exclaimed, looking round as if she
was surprised to find that it was not a foot! “You have a splendid
head line.”
Sir Gloster coloured consciously, and glanced surreptitiously at
Honor, as much as to say, “I hope you heard that!”
“Quite a commanding intellect—you could do almost anything you
chose—and are likely to be successful in your aims. A strong will; a
magnificent line of fate—yes, yes, yes, all the good things! You will
marry a fair wife; you will meet her in India—in fact, you have met
her already. You had some illnesses before you were ten——”
“That’s safe,” scoffed Mrs. Brande from the background; “teething
and measles—I could have told that!”
“You have really a splendid hand,” pursued Lalla. “I should like to
make a cast of it.”
“She would like to have it altogether,” grunted Colonel Sladen to
his immediate neighbours.
“Now, Captain Waring, for you?” cried the oracle, invitingly.
Captain Waring, smiling, prosperous, perfectly ready to be
amused, stepped forward with alacrity.
“A fine broad palm! A magnificent line of fate; great riches are
strongly marked—rather susceptible to our sex; a wonderful power of
drawing people to you; you will not marry for some years.” As he
stood aside, Lalla said, “Last, but not least, Miss Gordon. Oh, come
along, Miss Gordon”—beckoning with an imperious finger.
“Thank you, I would rather not be done,” she answered stiffly.
“What?” inquired young Jervis, in an undertone. “Not be butchered
to make a station’s holiday?”
“Oh, nonsense!” persisted Lalla rather shrilly. “Your aunt has been
‘done,’ as you call it, and I am anxious to see what type your hand
belongs to—it’s sure to be artistic.”
“There is a nice little bait for you,” whispered Jervis. “Surely you
cannot refuse that.”
“Oh, Miss Gordon, we all want to hear your fortune,” cried several
voices; and, in spite of her unwillingness, Honor soon found herself
in Miss Paske’s clutches.
“Ahem! Artistic, yes. A dark hand; a little deceitful; not much heart;
very ambitious. I see some disease, like small-pox, or a bad
accident, in store for you; you will marry when you are about forty.
Let me look again. No, you and your husband will not agree. You will
live long, and die suddenly.”
“How I wish some one could tell Miss Paske’s fortune!” cried
Captain Waring, with unusual animation. “Shall I try?” suddenly
seizing it. “Great vivacity; despotic will; love of admiration; line of
heart nil; and the girdle of Venus—oh—oh——”
“Oh, nonsense!”—wrenching it away impatiently. “Here is Mr. Joy,
who knows something far more interesting—a new and much shorter
way of going home.”
This was seemingly an important piece of intelligence. Yes, there
was a decided alacrity about getting under way. Hunger is a vulgar,
but a very human weakness, and soon every one set off in the wake
of scatter-brained Toby and Miss Paske; and nothing but a few
scraps of newspaper and cigar-ends marked the conclusion of what
is known to this day in Shirani as the “Great Starvation Picnic.”
 CHAPTER XXII.
TOBY JOY’S SHORT CUT.

Honor Gordon and Sir Gloster sent their ponies on ahead—as the
path was all downhill—and elected to walk. To tell the truth, the
gentleman was a nervous rider, and greatly preferred pedestrian
exercise. It was an ominous fact, that whereas Sir Gloster had
closely accompanied Miss Gordon and her escort on their way to the
picnic—so much so, indeed, as to be almost always within earshot—
he now brusquely shook off any of the party who evinced a desire to
attach themselves to him and his companion.
“Miss Paske was most amusing as a fortune-teller and all that sort
of thing,” he remarked, “but were you not rather uneasy about your
future?”
“Not a bit”—contemptuously kicking a little cone downhill; “she
made it up as she went along.”
“She was awfully down on young Jervis. What a career she
painted for him, poor beggar!”
“The wish was doubtless father to the thought. She does not like
him.”
“And the idea of her saying that you would not be married till you
were forty! As if you could not marry to-morrow, if you chose!”
Honor began to feel uncomfortable and to long for the presence of
a third person: she made a lively gesture of dissent as she prepared
to scramble down an exceedingly steep and greasy footpath.
“You know you could,” pursued Sir Gloster, seizing her hand, by
way of giving her assistance, and nearly precipitating her to mother
earth. “For example, you might marry me.”
 Miss Paske had just assured him that he would succeed in his
aims, and he was resolved to test her prophecy without delay.
“Oh, Sir Gloster!” exclaimed the young lady, vainly trying to
release her fingers.
“You will let me keep this dear little hand for ever? I fell in love with
you almost from the first. You are beautiful and musical, and would
understand at once the fitness of things. My mother would like you.
Do you think you could care for me, and all that sort of thing?”
“Oh, Sir Gloster,” she repeated, pausing on the path, a sudden red
suffusing her cheeks, and looking at him with real dismay, “I like you
—but not in that way.”
“Perhaps I have been too sudden. If I were to wait a week or two.
Let me talk to your aunt?”
“No, no, please”—with anxious repudiation. “It would make no
difference. I am sorry, but I never, never could care for you as you
wish.”
Mrs. Sladen and Mark Jervis, who were behind, descending the
same zigzag path, happened to be immediately above the pair.
Sounds ascend, and they were at the moment silent, when suddenly,
through the leaves, and the cool evening air, a voice seemed wafted
to their feet, which said—
“I have been too sudden. If I were to wait a week or two. Let me
talk to your aunt.”
Mrs. Sladen and her companion looked straight at one another,
and became guiltily crimson. There was a moment’s pause, ere the
man exclaimed—
“There is no use in our pretending we are deaf! We have just
heard what was never meant for other ears, and I’m awfully sorry.”
“So am I,” she answered; “sorry in one way, glad in another.”
“I doubt if Mrs. Brande would share your joy,” he retorted with a
significant smile.
“Of course we will keep it a dead secret.”
 “Of course”—emphatically. “On the whole,” with a short laugh, “I
am not sure that it is not safer to write.”
“Is this what you will do?” she inquired playfully.
“I don’t know, but I certainly have had a lesson not to try my fate
coming home from a crowded picnic. What a dismal walk those two
will have! Can you imagine a more unpleasant tête-à-tête? What can
they talk about now?”
“Their walk, and every one’s, seems ended here,” remarked Mrs.
Sladen, pointing to a crowd of coolies, dandies, men, ladies, and
ponies who were all jammed together and making a great noise.
“Of course, this is Toby Joy’s short cut, and most likely a practical
joke,” exclaimed Jervis. “I believe he was at the bottom of the lost
lunch too.”
The much-boasted short cut was likely to prove the proverbial
“longest way round,” and now afforded a very disagreeable surprise
to the company of merry pleasure-seekers. They had been
descending a densely wooded shoulder of a hill, with the cheery
confidence of ignorance, to where at one point an artificially banked-
up and stone-faced road crossed a deep gorge.
The path, owing to the action of the rain, had slipped down, and
there was now but a precarious footing across the breach, barely
wide enough for a single pony—and that a steady one. Above,
towered the hill, almost sheer; below, lay the blue shale precipice,
clothed in fir trees, bushes, and brambles. To a hill coolie, or a
person with a good head, it was passable; at least twenty had gone
over, including Mrs. Brande in her dandy, who waved her hand
jauntily as she was carried across. She was a plucky woman, as far
as precipices were concerned.
Some who were nervous hesitated on the brink—they were torn
between two conflicting emotions, hunger and fear; many were
actually beginning to retrace their steps. Toby Joy, on his hard-
mouthed yellow “tat,” was riding backwards and forwards over the
chasm to demonstrate how easy it was, and bragging and joking and
making himself so conspicuous that some of his misguided victims—
including Colonel Sladen—would not have been at all sorry if he had
vanished down the Khud.
Colonel Sladen’s hunger stimulated his temper. The traditional
bear with a sore head was a playful and gentle animal, in
comparison to him, at the present moment. He had been a noted
horseman in his day, but being now much too heavy to ride, he was
fond of bragging of his ponies, and thrusting that light weight, his
unhappy wife, into positions that made her blood run ice, and then
he would boast and say, “Pooh! the pony is a lamb! My wife rides
him, rides him with a thread, sir;” and he would straddle his legs, and
swagger about the club, and subsequently sell the animal at a high
figure.
“A nasty place to ride across! Not a bit of it—it’s safer than doing it
on foot. These hill ponies never make mistakes.” This he had
remarked in his gruffest tone to Captain Waring, whose fair
companion was literally trembling on the brink. “Wait—and just you
watch how my wife will do it, on the Budmash—she will show you all
the way. Milly,” he bellowed, looking up the hill, “come along, come
along.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, turning a face as white as death on Mark, “I
really dare not ride across that place. I have no nerve now, and this
is the shying pony.”
“Come on! Don’t you see that you are stopping up the road?”
roared her lord and master, indicating the various people who were
sneaking back. Then, as she joined him, he added in a lower tone—
“I would not be such a coward to save my life.”
“I am a coward,” she muttered to Mark with a ghastly smile, “and I
doubt if even that will save my life;” and she began to put her pony in
motion.
“It is only fifty yards across,” said Jervis, encouragingly; “it will be
over in two minutes. I’ll get off and lead your pony, and I guarantee
to take you over safely.”
“Are you going?” cried Colonel Sladen, impatiently. “Get along,
and give the other women a lead. Oh!” to her escort, who had