The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 121, November, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics

The Story

The November 1867 issue of The Atlantic Monthly offers a panoramic view of American society and thought in the immediate aftermath of the Civil War. It opens with serialized fiction such as The Guardian Angel, where legal and personal dramas unfold in small-town settings, reflecting the slow but steady progress of justice and fortune. The narrative follows characters like Master Byles Gridley and the lawyer Jacob Penhallow, whose efforts to settle a long-standing land claim symbolize the broader themes of persistence and the reshaping of property and power in postwar America. The story’s legal intricacies and the growth of towns near railroads and mines illustrate the country’s economic transformation.

The magazine then shifts to scenes of everyday life and cultural debates, such as the arrival of Clement Lindsay in Oxbow Village in the spring of 1861, just as the nation edges toward civil war. The tension between personal concerns and the looming national crisis is palpable, with local quarrels and small-scale dramas mirroring the larger convulsions about to engulf the country. The presence of Deacon Rumrill, with his cautious attitude toward literature like Ivanhoe, highlights the era’s moral strictness and the cultural anxieties about reading and entertainment.

Interspersed are thoughtful essays on literature and education, including a spirited defense of Shakespeare’s study by a clergyman who argues that the Bard’s works reveal human nature as profoundly as the Bible. This reflects the intellectual currents of the time, grappling with the role of classical and contemporary literature in shaping moral and social understanding.

Travel and antiquarian interests also feature prominently. A detailed account of Canea (modern Chania) in Crete offers vivid descriptions of its geography, climate, and local life, blending classical scholarship with personal observation. The author’s reflections on the olive orchards, the convent life, and the rugged landscape evoke a world both distant and resonant with historical depth, contrasting with the bustling American scenes elsewhere in the magazine.

The issue includes poignant personal narratives, such as a lumberman’s recollections of hardship and sacrifice, capturing the ruggedness and resilience of frontier life. These stories bring a human dimension to the broader historical and cultural themes, grounding the magazine’s intellectual ambitions in lived experience.

Philosophical and practical reflections on literary labor and the creative process appear as well, with references to historical figures like Gibbon, Webster, and Buckle. These meditations explore the discipline and emotional complexity involved in producing great works, offering readers insight into the nature of intellectual endeavor.

The magazine also touches on social realities and urban life, with vivid sketches of New York’s Bowery and its colorful, often rough inhabitants. These portrayals reveal the contrasts within American society—the coexistence of culture and vice, order and disorder, wealth and poverty.

Musical and theatrical culture is examined through the lens of negro minstrelsy, tracing its evolution and the tensions between authenticity and commercial exploitation. This discussion reflects the period’s complex attitudes toward race, art, and popular entertainment.

Political commentary is present, notably on the fraught Reconstruction era. The magazine critiques President Andrew Johnson’s administration, highlighting the constitutional and political struggles over the reintegration of the Southern states and the limits of executive power. This analysis situates the magazine firmly in the urgent debates shaping the nation’s future.

Poetry rounds out the issue, including a review of William Morris’s The Life and Death of Jason, a work that attempts to revive the spirit of ancient Greek epic. The critique acknowledges Morris’s technical skill and dedication but questions the poem’s originality and relevance, illustrating the magazine’s engagement with contemporary literary movements and standards.

Throughout, the magazine balances literary, historical, and social content, weaving together narratives, essays, and poems that reflect the complexities of a nation in transition. It moves from intimate personal stories to broad cultural and political analysis, offering readers a multifaceted portrait of America and the wider world in 1867.

The People

• Master Byles Gridley: A figure caught in the legal and social machinations surrounding a protracted land claim. His consultations with lawyer Penhallow reveal his desire for justice and financial security, but the slow-moving legal system and competing interests stand in his way. By the end, the resolution of the claim promises to transform his fortunes, symbolizing the postwar reshaping of property and power.

• Jacob Penhallow, Esq.: A seasoned, honest country lawyer who balances keen legal insight with a belief in the integrity of others. He supports his young partner Bradshaw’s efforts to settle the land claim, embodying the professional dedication and cautious optimism of the legal class in a changing America.

• Clement Lindsay: A young man arriving in Oxbow Village on the eve of the Civil War, whose presence stirs local tensions and moral concerns. His engagement with literature, especially the controversial Ivanhoe, and his interactions with Deacon Rumrill highlight the cultural conflicts between tradition and modernity, faith and secular knowledge.

• Deacon Rumrill: A moral guardian figure in Oxbow Village, wary of novels and romances, fearing their corrupting influence on youth. His strict adherence to religious principles and suspicion of secular literature illustrate the era’s cultural conservatism and the tensions between piety and intellectual curiosity.

• The Bowery Salesmen and Detectives: Representatives of urban working-class and underclass life in New York City, these figures embody the rough, vibrant, and sometimes dangerous social milieu of the city’s poorer districts. Their presence underscores the contrasts within American society and the challenges of urbanization.

• The Monks of Hagia Triada: Portrayed as simple, hardworking, and kind-hearted, these religious figures offer a glimpse into a quieter, more contemplative world far from American bustle. Their peaceful existence and charitable work provide a counterpoint to the struggles and ambitions elsewhere in the magazine.

In Its Own Voice

“I have always taught my children to read it [Shakespeare]. Ministers, as a class, know less practically of human nature than any other class of men. As I belong to the fraternity, I can say this without prejudice.”

This candid reflection from a clergyman captures the magazine’s engagement with literature as a means of understanding human character beyond religious doctrine.

“Here is your vollum, Mr. Lindsay... I understand it is not the work of that great and good mahn who I thought wrote it... These novels and romances are awfully destructive to our youth.”

Deacon Rumrill’s wary attitude toward Ivanhoe reveals the cultural anxieties about reading and morality in small-town America.

“The Bible is the first and best book that can be studied for the exhibition of human character... But if you will read any other books, read Homer and Shakespeare.”

This endorsement of classical literature alongside the Bible highlights the intellectual currents and educational ideals of the period.

“The lights of Chatham Square twinkle out now... One fellow in dirty shirt-sleeves and a Turkish cap flourishes aloft something which looks like a fan...”

A vivid scene from New York’s Bowery, illustrating the lively, chaotic urban environment and its colorful inhabitants.

What It's Really About

This volume of The Atlantic Monthly is a mosaic of post-Civil War American life, grappling with the tensions between tradition and change, rural and urban, moral certainty and cultural complexity. At its core, it explores how a nation redefines itself amid political upheaval, economic growth, and social transformation.

The serialized fiction and personal narratives reveal the slow, often frustrating processes of justice, settlement, and survival in a country still healing from war. The legal battles over land claims symbolize broader struggles over property, identity, and the future. Characters like Master Byles Gridley and Clement Lindsay embody the hopes and anxieties of individuals caught in these larger currents.

The cultural essays and debates about literature, from Shakespeare to contemporary novels, reflect a society negotiating its intellectual heritage and moral compass. The clergy’s ambivalence toward secular literature and the defense of classical works underscore the era’s contested boundaries between sacred and secular knowledge.

Travel and antiquarian descriptions of Crete serve as a metaphor for the search for historical roots and cultural continuity, contrasting the ancient and the modern, the distant and the immediate. These passages invite readers to consider the place of history and tradition in shaping identity.

The magazine’s attention to urban life, especially the gritty realities of New York’s Bowery, exposes the social fractures and challenges of rapid industrialization and immigration. The presence of private detectives and pickpockets hints at the undercurrents of crime and survival in the city’s margins.

Musical and theatrical discussions, particularly of negro minstrelsy, reveal the complexities of race, art, and popular culture in a nation still deeply divided. The tension between authenticity and commercial exploitation mirrors broader struggles over representation and identity.

Political commentary on Reconstruction and the presidency of Andrew Johnson situates the magazine within the urgent debates over governance, justice, and national unity. The critique of Johnson’s resistance to Congressional authority highlights the fragility of the postwar order and the contested nature of American democracy.

Finally, the reflections on literary labor and the creative process offer a meta-commentary on the intellectual efforts required to make sense of such a turbulent era. The references to Gibbon, Webster, and Buckle emphasize the discipline and emotional complexity behind the production of history and literature.

Together, these elements form a rich, multifaceted exploration of a nation at a crossroads, inviting readers to reflect on the interplay of history, culture, politics, and personal experience.

Why Read It Today

This volume offers a window into the intellectual and cultural life of America in 1867, a pivotal moment when the country wrestled with the aftermath of civil war and the challenges of reconstruction. Readers interested in history, literature, and social thought will find in its pages a wealth of perspectives that illuminate the complexities of the era.

The magazine’s blend of fiction, essays, travel writing, and poetry creates a varied reading experience that moves from intimate human stories to broad cultural and political analysis. Its tone is earnest and reflective, often marked by the moral seriousness and intellectual rigor characteristic of the period.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the challenges posed by 19th-century language, period-specific references, and the cultural attitudes of the time, some of which may feel dated or uncomfortable. The moral strictness of figures like Deacon Rumrill and the racial attitudes implicit in discussions of minstrelsy reflect the social norms and limitations of the era.

The detailed travel descriptions and classical literary discussions may require patience but reward with vivid imagery and thoughtful insights. The political commentary remains relevant for understanding the roots of American constitutional debates and the enduring tensions in governance and civil rights.

What stays with the reader is a sense of a nation in flux, striving to reconcile its ideals with its realities, and the human stories that animate these grand themes. The magazine’s careful balance of warmth and precision invites reflection on how literature and journalism can capture the spirit of their times without resorting to sensationalism.

In sum, this issue is suited for readers who appreciate historical depth, literary variety, and thoughtful engagement with the social and political issues of a transformative era. It offers both a record and a meditation on the challenges of rebuilding a nation and the enduring power of culture to shape understanding.