Text: William Henry Gravely, Jr., “Chapter 01,” The Early Political and Literary Career of Thomas Dunn English Story, dissertation, 1953 (This material is protected by copyright)

[page 1:]

Throughout his long life Thomas Dunn English was strangely silent about his parentage. Although much given to writing vivid recollections of persons whom he knew more or less intimately during his varied and active life, never in all his reminiscences does he attempt to remove the obscurity surrounding his father and mother, nor does he refer specifically at any time to the means whereby either his parents or his grandparents obtained a livelihood. Only in data furnished by him for biographical or other records is there any reference to his father's Christian name, and even these records fail to reveal the Christian name of his mother, although her family name is mentioned.(1)

Whether this reticence is attributable to a natural disinclination on English's part to talk about private family matters or to a considered determination to withhold from public scrutiny the beginning of his life's story, one can only conjecture. But it is difficult to reconcile the demonstrable facts of his birth and early years with his own claim of an established unbroken line of descent [page 2:] from an old New Jersey family which accompanied William Penn to this country. The difficulty arises not so much from the fact that English's father, instead of being socially prominent, was only an humble carpenter by trade, as from the many and futile genealogical attempts that have been made to establish some connection between the father and the old New Jersey family of the same name.(2)

At any rate, prior to the publication in 1866 of Evert A. Duyckinck's supplement to the Cyclopaedia of American Literature,(3) Thomas Dunn English jotted down certain memoranda for a sketch of his life from which the following extract is taken:

From another supposedly trustworthy account — for it [page 3:] was written during English's lifetime and presumably had at least his tacit approval — we are told that the family is of Norman-Irish origin and that “the name is a corruption of Angelos, the Norman adventurer who married the daughter of an Irish chieftan, and became the founder of a prolific line.”(5) By 1682, when the first emigrant, Joseph, settled in this country under a grant from William Penn, the name had already assumed the form of English.(6) This first emigrant, in the words of one of English's daughters, “was an Irishman, a member of the Society of Friends, who settled on the bank of the Delaware opposite to Penn's Manor, at a spot where the river rises gently up on a slope, styled originally as Mount Pleasant, to distinguish it from the steep and high banks above and below; though since it has passed from the family, it is [page 4:] usually known as ‘The English Farm.’”(7) Further accounts relate that Joseph English went from Ireland to Gloucester, England, before sailing to this country. It is also asserted that he received a grant of land in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, as well as in Hew Jersey, and that in addition to his main homestead in New Jersey he owned a home in Byberry, Pennsylvania, where he lived intermittently for a while.(8)

According to an unsigned article which appeared in The Alumni Register of the University of Pennsylvania about a month after his death, Thomas Dunn English's “descent in a straight line of elder sons” is as follows: Joseph, Joseph, 2nd, Thomas, Isaac, Thomas, 2nd, Robert, Thomas Dunn.(9) Insofar as the identity of his father and grandfather is concerned, this line of descent agrees with data furnished the University of Pennsylvania during [page 5:] English's lifetime. Among various papers and clippings in the holdings of the University is a form apparently designed for the use of persons seeking membership in some society, but adapted for use as a questionnaire. Answers to various biographical questions are given briefly, the names of English's grandfather and father being listed respectively as Thomas English, 2nd, and Robert.(10)

But even though in the absence of proof the unbroken line of descent claimed by English on his paternal side is open to question, it is not unlikely that Robert English was related to the Burlington family. Early records of marriages in the State of New Jersey clearly indicate that the English family was prolific.(11) It spread into different parts of New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania, and by 1819, the year of Thomas Dunn English's birth, there were numerous Englishes in the city of Philadelphia.

Among these Philadelphia Englishes, however, the city directory for 1819 lists only one Robert, a carpenter, at Juliana near Wood Street, who resided at 8 Littleboy's Court. Identical entries occur in the directories through 1822, but in 1823 and 1824 the residence of Robert S. [page 6:] English, as he is always listed, is given as 31 Strawberry Alley. Since there is no mention of him before the year of his son's birth, it is reasonable to assume either that he moved to Philadelphia in 1818 or 1819 or — since the early directories list only heads of families — that if he lived in Philadelphia prior to 1818 he had not established a home of his own before that date. The exact year of Robert English's marriage remains uncertain, but inasmuch as Thomas Dunn was the first child born to his parents, 1818 would seem to be the most probable date. If so, Robert married as a young man in his early twenties, for it is known that he was in his fifty-first year when he died in 1847 from consumption of the lungs.(12)

More puzzling even than Thomas Dunn English's account of his paternal background are the faint clues that he left concerning the origin of his mother. The same questionnaire which lists the names of his father and paternal grandfather gives as his mother's maiden name either Kempstone or Kempston, the final e, being uncertain.(13) Apparently Kempstone is the spelling adopted by her son, for not only does the New Jersey legislative Manual for1891 and other years(14) give this spelling, but English also employs it in a poem in dialect entitled “John Kempstone,” [page 7:] in which he evidently meant to use his mother's family name.(15)

The New Jersey legislative Manual for 1891 states that Thomas Dunn English's mother was born in Ireland and, without mentioning her Christian name, states further that she was the daughter of Joseph Kempstone and Alice, née M’Millen.(16) This information, however, is partly at variance with that from another source which is considerably more detailed and which appears also to be more authentic. True, information about English's maternal line published in the New Jersey legislative Manual during his lifetime ought to be authoritative enough, but English for some reason or other — possibly because he preferred some aspects of his past to remain buried — must have frequently allowed erroneous information concerning’ his history to go unchallenged. Otherwise, it is almost inconceivable that certain types of inaccurate statements should be made by those close to him. For example, in an article by English's son-in-law written more than five years before [page 8:] its subject's death and considered good enough to be awarded a prize by the Midland Monthly for its descriptive merits, are two surprising misstatements. “Thomas Dunn English,” says the author, “was the only child of his parents and his father died in his early boyhood.”(17) But the truth is that English had a sister who died in infancy and he himself was nearly twenty-eight years old when his father died.(18) Such ignorance of the facts on the parts of members of his Immediate family suggests not only that English was reticent about his parents, but that more of the extant information may be unreliable.

What appears to be a more trustworthy record of English's maternal line is some very interesting family data in possession of Miss Anne E. Atkinson of New Brunswick, New Jersey. Miss Atkinson's father and Thomas Dunn English were first cousins, their mothers being sisters — daughters of Joseph Kempston, as she spells the last name. According to Miss Atkinson's information taken from her deceased sister's family chart, the line has been traced back to Robert McMillen and his wife, Sarah Clark, who came from the north of Ireland to Salem, New Jersey, and who later [page 9:] moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. They were of Scottish descent and strict Presbyterians. Consequently, they were much disturbed when their daughter, Mary Jane, became a Methodist under the influence of John Wesley. Mary Jane McMillen had two daughters by her husband, Joseph Kempston: Mary Jane Forsyth and Sarah A. Miss Atkinson is the granddaughter of Mary Jane Forsyth Kempston, and Thomas Dunn English was the son of Sarah A. Kempston by Robert English. The chart also gives Sarah as the name of Thomas Dunn's little sister who died in infancy. The strongest evidence in support of Miss Atkinson's information may be found in the Philadelphia directories for 1850 and 1851. The directory for 1850 lists Thomas Dunn English as living at 5 Lancaster Row, in West Philadelphia. The directory for 185I, although it does not include English's name, lists one Sarah English as living exactly where Thomas Dunn had lived the year before.(19) [page 10:]

Thus, on the basis of the best evidence available, it may be assumed that English's mother was Sarah A. Kempston or Kempstone; that she married a carpenter by trade, Robert S. English; and that when their only son, Thomas Dunn,(20) was born in Philadelphia on June 29, 1819, he was born into a comparatively humble state of life. But as English observes in his early recollections of Philadelphia written during the last year or two of his life, the wages of the toiler, although low, were not so inadequate as might be supposed. “The house carpenter at one-fifty to two dollars a day,” he notes, “could live better and lay by more money than can his successor at the present time at three dollars. Rent and the cost of living were then much less than now. Very few mechanics were without their own rented houses; very few lived in parts of [page 11:] houses, and tenement dens were utterly unknown. It was a very poor family that rented two or three rooms in another man's house. A decent though small habitation could be had at a rent of from seventy-five to a hundred dollars a year. It is true that some of these houses were in courts or alleys, but had one room on each floor and a very small back yard, but the man who occupied such a place felt that he was living in his own house.”(21)

It was in one of these courts; or alleys that Thomas Dunn English himself lived during the first four or five years of his life — first in Littleboy's Court and later in Strawberry Alley — and it is not improbable that he lived under the same crowded conditions that he describes as prevalent in such sections of the city. Where he lived for a number of years afterward is not certain, for subsequently to the year 1824 the name of Robert S. English disappears from the Philadelphia directories and fails to reappear until 1833. It then disappears again until 1844. Since there is definite proof that in 1837 he lived in Blockley Township, which lay just across the Schuylkill River from Philadelphia, it is safe to assume that during the other years in which his name is missing from the city directories he lived either in Blockley or in other outlying districts whose Inhabitants were not listed as being [page 12:] from the city proper.(22)

English has left us one glimpse into the very earliest period of his life — the period in which he still must have lived in Littleboy's Court. Since he himself was too young to remember the Incident he relates, perhaps he should not be held altogether accountable for its authenticity. In Philadelphia there was a deaf mute known as “Dumb Anthony,” who had an uncanny ability to predict future events in pantomime. Once this seer was given a reward for his aid in the discovery of some articles stolen from the English household. Satisfied with his reward, “Dumb Anthony” indicated to English's parents that he would like to make some predictions concerning the future of their son. These he was permitted to make. “His description of my future,” says English, “was very funny. He sat down to a table, and began to ‘make-believe’ to write; then seizing a book, he opened it, and [page 13:] declaimed in dumb show most fiercely. He then put on a ludicrous imitation of a very important personage, and strutted about with the airs of a turkey-cock. The bystanders did not quite agree on the interpretation. My father thought, ‘the fellow means the boy's to be a lawyer of note;’ my mother thought he predicted I was to become a clergyman; while the rest, though they could not decide between the two, agreed I was to make a noise in the world, either as the foreman of a fire-company, or a field marshall, or something. Having got in the vein, and having an eye to future broken meats and old clothes, Anthony went on to tell the fortune of the family. My little sister lay in the cradle. He was asked if she would be old; but he shook his head and held up two fingers, and then dropped one, which was his way of signifying between one and two years. As the child was in perfect health, this only provoked a smile, though it proved in the end to be an unhappily correct guess. He then went through another bit of pantomime to show we were to remove from that house in less than a year, which provoked another contemptuous smile; but that also proved to be correct in the end. In short, Anthony's predictions were verified, except those concerning myself. I never have been in the pulpit, though I make stump speeches now and then; and though I was admitted to the bar, never was lawyer enough to hurt me.”(23) [page 14:]

Although English has left no memories of his mother that extend beyond the years of his young boyhood, his earliest distinct recollection was associated with her. The occasion was the visit of Lafayette to Philadelphia in the autumn of 1824. The newspapers were full of vivid and picturesque descriptions of the famous man's triumphal entry into the city and of the military procession that accompanied it. It is no wonder that such an event made a lasting impression on the mind of a boy of five. The procession which reached Arch Street during the afternoon of September 28, 1824, is thus partly described in a contemporary newspaper account:

As the procession moved from street to street, the same brilliance and picturesqueness prevailed. No occasion of the kind in America had ever surpassed this one, [page 15:] and Thomas Dunn English, though only a child of five, never forgot it. “I recall,” he wrote, “a military show on the occasion. I remember very distinctly one company of volunteers, in grey uniforms, which was drawn up just before the house in Philadelphia in which I was seated with my mother, at a window overlooking the street. It was called the ‘Lafayette Greys,’ being named after the distinguished visitor. Whether Lafayette arrived upon the scene by barouche or on horseback I do not recollect, for all I saw was an elderly, hard-featured gentleman who stood in the street, answered the salute tendered him and walked along the line.”(25)

English has recorded, too, that his mother began to prepare him for school long before he was old enough to enroll as a pupil. At the age of six he was sent to Thomas H. Wilson, who conducted a private academy at the corner of Race and Juniper Streets in Philadelphia. In regard to this event he relates: nI was already able to read and write, for my good mother, having nothing better to do. began to teach me at three years and kept it up until I was transferred to Wilson's care.”(26) But in spite of this kindly reference to his mother's interest in his educational development, there are no later recollections of her, and it is doubtful whether the obscurity that has enveloped her will ever be removed. [page 16:]

In English's reminiscences of the Philadelphia of his boyhood one can sense that he may have felt rather keenly the class distinction that existed, and it may be that in later life, when because of his undoubted ability and talent he rose far above his early station, he had enough foolish pride to be secretive about his origin. Physically, this Philadelphia was compact and comparatively small, being strictly bounded on the north by Vine Street and on the south by Cedar or South Street. On the east and west respectively it was just as rigidly bounded by the Delaware and Schuylkill Rivers. And one may gather from English's recollections nearly seventy years later that the caste system then existing in the city was as rigid as were its physical boundaries. He describes it thus:

The second class was made up of professional men, — the lawyers, the physicians, architects and very prominent artists and scientific men: — with a sprinkling of the newly rich who were lavish in their entertainment or could contribute to professional success by their money. A lawyer made much of his profitable client and a physician of his rich patient. This circle was a little less stiff than the one above it and its social occasions were always enjoyable.

The third class was composed of successful master mechanics prosperous manufacturers, contractors and builders, who rather looked down in a patronizing way upon those whom they employed. This set was made up of respectable and good citizens and their descendants number among them many of our most eminent men.

Under these again came the working mechanics, the clerks and salesmen. These last were apt to look upon their associates with some contempt as merely “skilled laborers.” Beneath these again were the hardworking, unskilled toilers, who earned their board by constant labor, at wages which at the present day would be considered entirely insufficient. As for the scamps to be found in all communities, they pervaded all classes. Servile labor of all sorts was considered degrading and was left entirely to negroes. A white man might drive your coach or groom your horses, but he would not put on livery, nor would he shave you or black your boots at any price. The barbers and the bootblacks were all colored in those days.(27)

From the foregoing description of the social distinctions prevalent in the Philadelphia of Thomas Dunn English's youth, it is obvious that the young boy's father, as a carpenter, must have occupied a position near the bottom of the social ladder. Since even the wealthy were without the modern conveniences that lighten the daily routine of living, it is most probable that the lad's early life was not an easy one. True, as will [page 18:] presently develop, he undoubtedly received educational training considerably beyond that ordinarily enjoyed by boys of his social standing, and this fact redounds greatly to the credit of his parents, shadowy though the recollections are which their son has left of them. But although the lad's schooling was not neglected it is known that he learned the carpenter's trade,(28) and when school was not in session or when it was over for the day, he doubtless spent at least a part of the time assisting his father at the latter's place of work.

Although English never refers to his father's occupation, he has left a most interesting picture of the hardships under which a house-carpenter toiled in the early eighteen-thirties. In this account English shows himself to be thoroughly familiar with the sort of life he describes, and it is probable that the hardships which he so vividly portrays reflect the conditions existing in his own boyhood home. The description, though lengthy, is revealing enough to be reproduced as it stands:

In those “good old days,” Mr. Jack Plane rose in the dark, for he had to eat his breakfast by candle-light in order to be at his work by daylight. There was no limit of “eight hours” for a day's labor thought of then, nor ten hours either, for the “six to six” movement [page 19:] had not yet begun it3 weary fight of years. The first thing that Mr. Plane did was to make a dive for the tinder-box. There was a tin box containing charred linen. If the steel and flint were in their proper place, well and good; if not, he felt around in the dark until he found them. Then he began to strike the flint against the steel, which in most cases was a worn-out rasp from his shop. Now and then the flint would miss the steel. It had a marvelous knack of striking the knuckles of the left hand, and on such occasions Jack would utter some observations neither pious nor polite, and Mrs. Plane, dressing above in the dark would remark, “Oh, don’t swear so, Jack!” Finally a spark would settle upon the tinder. Then Jack would feel around for a match — a pine splinter dipped in brimstone — and when he found it he applied it to the tinder. Sometimes it would blaze and sometimes it wouldn’t. Then Jack would reach over to the round candle-box, take out a tallow dip, (twelve to the pound,) jam it in the candle stick and light it, — or try to, for success was not always certain. Then began the labor of making the fire. If Mrs. Plane were a provident woman kindling and wood were all ready for lighting. But even then the kindling below had its perversity, burning out without fully communicating flame to the wood above. Here the bellows came in handy, and Mr. Plane would blow and blow, until he had coaxed a flame; then the kettle would be hung on the hook and the foundation of breakfast laid.

In process of time tinder, flint and steel were displaced by “Etnas,” an invention by which a metal dipped in a bottle of potassic chlorate was thrust into another bottle containing some acid mixture and ignition was the result. Then came the Lucifer match — a flat match drawn between folds of sandpaper; to be followed in time by the loco-foco and that by the parlor match. But in the days to which I now refer there was neither Etna, Lucifer nor loco-foco.

Sometimes the coals were covered by ashes at night and enough were found alive in the morning to start the fire. But often the plan failed and there was no tinder. Then Mrs. Plane ran out, tongs in hand, to borrow a live coal from a neighbor.

Everything being prepared, Mr. and Mrs. Plane sat down to their breakfast and ate it by the light of a tallow dip. This candle required snuffing or else the burned wick would fall and burn a gutter in the tallow. Very economical [page 20:] people snuffed the candle with their fingers, but most of them indulged in the luxury of snuffers, which were like to scissors with a snuff-box on one of the blades. These snuffers were sometimes quite ornamental. I remember a pair in one house, heavily silver-plated, that had great capacity. But they never descended to tallow dips and even scorned mould candles. They confined their industry to wax candles.

Breakfast over, Mr. Plane took his way to the carpenter shop or building where his labor lay, as the case might be, and there he pounded away merrily. There were no planing machines, nor sawing machines, and sash-making was not then a specialty. Consequently he had to get out his flooring boards for himself as well as make his own sashes and doors. He had to use brad-awl, chalk and chalk-line with his rule, to mark off the width of flooring strips, and then separate them by driving his ripsaw. Then he placed them one by one on the bench, shoved his jack-plane and fore-plane, and used the plough and groove on their edges. All this is done away with now and so is the tedious operation of sash-making. Perhaps he was set at the framing of doors. His chisel and mallet were his mortising machine. Everything was done by hand and in the least labor saving way.

When night came he left off work and had the pleasure of eating supper by candle-light and was glad to turn into bed at an early hour. Though if he chose to walk abroad to breathe the fresh air, he knew his person would be protected, even as during his sleeping hours, by the watchman or “Feather-head” of the precinct, who patrolled the streets (when he was not asleep in his watch-box on the corner); and with his cry of “Pa-ast wah-un ul-lok, anna fer-osty mornin,’” offered pleasing breaks in the toiler's slumbers.

As for Mrs. Plane, she did not indulge in many pleasures. She did not waste her time in the morning over the daily papers. There were no cheap journals then. The dailies were heavy and expensive and their circulation light. If a well-to-do person subscribed, he was expected to lend his copy to this poorer neighbor when he exhausted the news. The lendee became lender in turn, and so on, through a circle, until, on its return at night, the copy was generally in a dilapidated state, only fit for duty as sadiron-holder or curl papers. Mrs. Plane had amusement in putting things to rights and getting [page 21:] her modest dinner; and after that, in gossip with her neighbors at the nearest pump or over the fence in the backyard.

It was an even race at that time between wood and coal — anthracite coal just coming into vogue; and during the very cold weather, fuel was expensive. It was the only high-priced thing, — food being especially cheap. A journeyman carpenter only earned one and a half or one and three quarters dollars per day; but his wages were quite equivalent to double the amount now. He could save money by economy which seems to be impossible now. For his barrel of super fine flour was four dollars; he could buy an entire shin of beef, (now 30ld by the pound in the butcher's shop), for a “levy” or twelve and a half cents — it was a reproach to a man that he ate “shin-bone soup,” — a mackerel cost five or six cents or less; bloaters were two for a cent; coffee twelve cents a pound and most things in proportion; while a house at a hundred and fifty dollars a year was considered rather pretentious.

But there was little fun for Mrs. Plane and not much for her husband. It was one weary treadmill round. They were well fed and comfortably clad, but the life was nearly animal — their only recreation being church-going on Sunday. There were two holidays in the year — Fourth of July and Christmas, — while the children had another, — the first day of May besides their half-holiday on Saturdays which were gaily spent in mischief, robbing apple trees in the suburbs, or fishing in the brooks for minnows. Mr. and Mrs. Plane were denied even this. There were no railways with cheap excursions, nor horse railways even, nor an omnibus. All these came with the departure of the much-vaunted “good old times.”(29)

Thus does English graphically portray a way of life which doubtless resembled closely that of his own hardworking family. But in spite of the hardships which he must have undergone as a young boy, he was much more fortunate than many other children born under similar conditions. Early in his life his parents were evidently [page 22:] determined to provide him with as good an education as they could afford. Nor were their efforts in his behalf hampered by any unwillingness on the part of their son to learn. He was an exceedingly precocious lad who very soon began to show signs of a mental curiosity which in later life tended to keep his general outlook fresh and vigorous. Already we have had English's own testimony that his mother began teaching him to read when he was only three years old, and it is not surprising, therefore, that when he entered Wilson's Academy at the age of six he became a star pupil.

It must not be thought strange that a carpenter during the period of English's youth should have sent his son to a private school. There was no public school system as we know it today. The free school did exist, but as English himself has observed, it “was looked upon as an institution for paupers, and it was a very poor man indeed, that would let his children be enrolled among its pupils.”(30)

Wilson was the teacher whom English had in mind when years later he referred in “Ben Bolt” to “the master so cruel and grim.”(31) Although acknowledging Wilson's ability as a teacher, the pupil has not left us a pleasant picture of his old master. Wilson had an ungovernable temper, and would sometimes vent his wrath on innocent pupils and give them unmerciful beatings. Of his experiences under Wilson, [page 23:] English relates further:

I endured this until I was twelve years of age. Then after having been punished for the fault of another, I made up my mind that I had had enough of it. One Monday morning, instead of going to school, I went fishing. I played truant that entire week.(32)

In time, of course, English's insubordination was discovered by his father, who immediately began a careful investigation of the incident. He first listened to his son's version of the matter and then sensibly sought confirmation of it from other pupils of the school. When their testimony bore out his son's, he decided to withdraw young English from Wilson's care and send him elsewhere to school. An early change had been determined upon anyhow, and the unpleasant incident resulted merely in a speedier transfer.(33)

Although English states that Wilson's Academy was among the best of its kind,(34) the obscurity which now surrounds it indicates that it was not among the more important private academies in Philadelphia. There is no mention of it in the Philadelphia directories after 1830, nor is there any reference to Thomas H. Wilson as a teacher [page 24:] after 1839. Although the academy may have existed at least a part of the time between 1830 and 1839, it apparently did not last long. Doubtless it was a school within the means of a poor man who wished to give his son every possible educational advantage.

At Wilson's Academy English had made considerable progress in mathematics, having completed mensuration and algebra. Therefore, as he relates, since “George W. Taylor, the head-master of the Friends’ Academy at Burlington, New Jersey, was the rival of John Gummere, I was sent to his care to be perfected in geometry and the like. He carried me safely past the Asses’ Bridge, through differential and integral calculus and fluxions, into trigonometry, and sent me with a chain-man and a circumferentor to make a map of certain parts of the city of Burlington, — a map which, I am told, is preserved to this day as the work of a boy of thirteen.”(35)

It has hitherto been supposed by those who have become familiar with the details of English's life from reading the brief biographical sketches that appeared both before and after his death that the Friends’ Academy which he attended after withdrawing from Wilson's was the famous boarding school founded in Burlington by John Gummere, the well-known mathematician. This misconception can now be dispelled, although it must be admitted that English himself [page 25:] is to be blamed for much of the confusion that has resulted. It would indeed be strange, unless Robert English's lot had most substantially improved by the time, if he could have afforded to send his son to a school with a national reputation such as John Gummere's academy had established.

Actually, there were two Friends’ schools for boys in Burlington when English was transferred from Wilson's care, probably in 1831. Of these, John Gummere's school was by far the more important. From the time of its founding in 1814 it steadily grew in prestige as John Gummere himself developed into one of the nation's leading mathematicians. By the time Gummere was called to the then recently established Haverford School in 1833 his boarding school at Burlington was drawing students from all over the United States and even from the West 36 Indies.(36)

On the other hand, the school operated by George W. Taylor, to whom English says he was sent, had just recently been opened. It had not had time to acquire a wide reputation and probably never acquired it, for Taylor discontinued the school about three years after it was opened It was known as the Friends’ Preparative Meeting School, and doubtless the tuition exacted by the school was much more modest, as well as more in keeping with Robert [page 26:] English's financial position, than the tuition required for enrollment in John Gummere's school.

When English called George W. Taylor the rival of John Gummere in mathematics, however, he may not have been exaggerating. Like Gummere, Taylor had received mathematical training under the able instructor, Enoch Lewis,(37) and by the time he gave up teaching in 1834, largely because of ill health, had established at least a local reputation as an exceedingly able mathematician. But his school was of brief duration and could not have won any enduring fame. That George W. Taylor was never head-master of John Gummere's boarding school can be seen from the following passage from Taylor's own brief autobiography, which relates to his life just after his marriage to Elizabeth Sykes in 1831 at Friends’ meeting in Burlington:

I had the offer of Friends’ Preparative Meeting School in Burlington, and a large house and extensive grounds, where Samuel R. Gummere had kept a flourishing school for girls before he moved to Green Bank on the side of the river. The rent was low, and I had the privilege of taking as many boarding scholars as we could accommodate. On careful consideration we concluded to accept of the offer, and accordingly we commenced housekeeping at that place, the corner of Union and York streets, nearly opposite to John Gummere's boarding school for boys. My dear wife being so well known and so dearly loved in Burlington, had a most cordial welcome, and we found, as Elizabeth knew before, a most interesting and intelligent body of Friends in [page 27:] the city, to whom we grew more and more attached. I issued circulars and endeavored to obtain boarding scholars, and had a goodly number of day scholars from Philadelphia, New York and New Jersey, of good families and character. I had the sad feeling to find that, with all my care, a few were not such as I desired to have; but I persevered, until finding my health failing, and having the offer of the agency of the Friends’ Bible and Tract Associations and the publishing agency of The Friend, we concluded to close our school and move to Philadelphia, which we did on the first of Fourth month, 1834. We sold at auction most of our furniture not wanted in Philadelphia, and bid adieu to our much-loved friends in Burlington.(38)

In Taylor's own words, then, we are told of the exact location of the school in Burlington to which English was sent. It was near John Gummere's school, but not identified with it. Why then does English, when he says in his memoirs that in addition to the Friends’ Academy in Burlington “there was a large day school attended by the boys of the town,”(39) either ignore completely or confuse with the school he himself attended one of the most widely known private academies of the time and one which lay almost opposite his own school? Forgetfulness in old age may be the answer, for near the beginning of his memoirs English asks his readers to bear with him in his lapses of memory. But he asks for this consideration because of his tendency to be forgetful of the more recent events of his life rather than of the earlier ones Much that occurred during his younger days, he relates, [page 28:] “is as fresh in my memory as though it had transpired yesterday.”(40) It may be that English was not averse to letting people think that he had attended a school which drew its students from well-to-do and distinguished families.(41)

English has left us an interesting bit of contrast between the educational systems pursued at Wilson's Academy and in the Burlington schools. The system in vogue in Burlington represented a distinct advance in the evolution of progressive disciplinary methods. Certainly the tone of George W. Taylor's brief autobiography indicates that its author would have advocated a sympathetic, though reasonably firm, handling of his pupils. One senses that he must have been a gentle and gracious person — a distinct contrast to the ill-tempered Thomas H. Wilson. “In spite of the frequent use of the rattan, plied so vigorously and constantly by its holder,” says English, “Wilson's school was disorderly. At Burlington it was different. The rod was never used in the schools except [page 29:] in the case of a pupil caught in a deliberate falsehood or indulging in profanity. Even then an examination was carefully made by the head-master, the facts were ascertained and the offender was punished in private.”(42) Moreover, as English further points out, the Burlington schools “were models of order and quiet; every pupil attended strictly to his own business, was diligent in his studies, respectful to his teachers and cordial in his relations to his schoolfellows. Bit by bit this system of discipline has displaced the brutal system of our forefathers. There were occasional infractions of discipline in the Burlington schools, as might be expected; but the punishment for these, though it had its minor terrors, did not degrade the pupil. A recess of fifteen minutes was allowed for recreation in school hours. When a boy had a black mark against him, he was obliged to sit for fourteen minutes of this recess in his seat, tortured by listening to his schoolmates playing foot-ball or ‘shinny’ outside. It was rare indeed to see as many as two boys thus kept in during recess.”(43)

If the data which English transmitted to the University of Pennsylvania can be further relied upon, in addition to his training at Wilson's Academy and at the Friends’ Preparative Meeting School, he was instructed in languages by Parnall Davis and other tutors.(44) English [page 30:] may have received some of this individual tutoring while still going to school in Burlington, but it is more likely that he received it at some time during the period that intervened after the Friends’ School had been discontinued in 1834 and before he entered the’ University of Pennsylvania in 1836. At any rate, as will be seen in the next chapter, there is ample evidence to prove that English knew the Polish language well before he was twenty years old, and his son-in-law has recorded that this knowledge remained with him in his old age. When English was nearly eighty, according to Arthur H. Holl, he gave a demonstration of this knowledge by reciting in Polish some verses which Krasicki, the author of “Monachomachia,” had translated from the poetry of Clement Marot.(45) Moreover, he acquired a substantial knowledge of French and Spanish, and he was also reasonably familiar with Latin and Greek, which he probably studied at one or both of the private schools that he attended. As further evidence of English's turn for languages, Arthur Noll records that this training later “gave him a taste for etymological study which led him to excursions in the Romany dialect and the Celtic speech.”(46)

But if English's proficiency in mathematics and in the languages attests his excellence as a student, he was also a normal boy who early developed a keen interest in [page 31:] the life around him. No other conclusion can be drawn about one whose activities became so diversified later on. Yet aside from his experiences at school, he has left only a few glimpses of the way in which he spent his hours of leisure. As a young lad he enjoyed going to the market of which Philadelphians of his early years were so proud and spending his pocket money on curds and whey, ground nut cakes, and “Mrs. Lovering's toothsome cheese cakes.”(47) Nor was he above joining his friends in questionable pranks of various kinds, such as raiding one or more of the many apple orchards that flourished in the suburbs. Often, however, these escapades were mischievous rather than predatory, and sprang chiefly from an exuberant overflow of pent-up energy.(48)

Of the companions of his boyhood English has said little, but he has left an interesting account of how he became friendly with one of them:

If English had preserved the crayon drawing by his young friend, it would have become a much-treasured relic, for the young attendant of the camera obscura was Emanuel Leutze, who afterward received great popular acclaim for his famous canvas, “Washington crossing the Delaware.” Especially significant in this bit of narrative is English's allusion to his “natural love for any kind of vagabondism.” As his life proceeds to unfold, it becomes increasingly evident that one of the salient traits of his personality was a sort of intellectual vagabondism which, although it led him into many winding and enticing by-ways, continually turned his steps aside from the main road that has brought many a man of less vitality and talent to the promised land of substantial creative achievement.

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