PART ONE
 Poetry
 Introduction
In 1781 Thomas Jefferson completed the first draft of what would  come to be known as Notes on the State of Virginia. At inception,  however, it was a collection of responses to a number of queries from  a French aristocrat, Francois, Marquis de Barbe-Marbois, who served  as secretary of the French legation to the United States between 1779  and 1785. Marbois' queries were wide-ranging, arising out of the  science of the time, which had not yet coalesced into discrete  disciplines, but instead mingled geology, geography, zoology,  physiology, psychology, philosophy, biology, and botany under the  rubric of "natural history," a proto-discipline that depended less on  systematic investigation, and much less on experimentation, than on  personal observation. Jefferson's responses, therefore, though  wide-ranging and thorough, were essentially opinions allegedly  supported by reason.
    Jefferson gave a fairly complete and accurate description of the  geography, geology, flora, fauna, population, and social organization  of Virginia a dispassionate, academic expression by a well-versed Man  of Reason, which Jefferson purportedly was. But in the midst of his  response to one query, Jefferson seemed to forget he was a member of  the American Philosophical Society and became something altogether  more agendaed.
    The query read simply: "The administration of justice and  description of the laws?"
    Jefferson's response began, "The state is divided into counties.  In every county are appointed magistrates, called justices of the  peace . . ." and continued with a long and tedious summary of  Virginia's statutes governing everything from landholding to marriage  and naturalization. The discussion became more interesting when  Jefferson explained an ongoing revision of the codes intended to  remove colonial vestiges, mentioning his own proffered amendment to  the revision plan itself: a proposal to emancipate Negro slaves born  in Virginia once they had reached majority, at which time, "they  should be colonized to such place as the circumstances of the time  should render most proper."
    Although this would not have affected the legal status of slavery  itself, applied only to blacks born in the future and would have  given slave owners the right to work even those blacks for at least  ten years, it was clear that this plan would eventually cause a labor  shortage. This Jefferson proposed to remedy by sending "vessels at  the same time to other parts of the world for an equal number of  white inhabitants; to induce whom to migrate hither."
    That all this seemed somewhat byzantine, Jefferson acknowledged  in a rhetorical question:
 It will probably be asked, Why not retain and incorporate the blacks  into the state, and thus save the expence of supplying, by  importation of white settlers, the vacancies they will leave?
 which he answered with a mordant prediction:
 Deep rooted prejudices entertained by the whites; ten thousand  recollections, by the blacks, of the injuries they have sustained;  new provocations; the real distinctions which nature has made; and  many other circumstances, will divide us into parties, and produce  convulsions which will probably never end but in the extermination of  the one or the other race.
 Jefferson then proceeded to enumerate the "real distinctions" of  nature, laying out a series of canards that constitute a systematic  codification, not of the laws of Virginia, but of the tropes of  American racism. These included:
 They secrete less by the kidnies, and more by the glands of the  skin, which gives them a very strong and disagreeable odour. . . .
 They are at least as brave, and more adventuresome. But this may  perhaps proceed from a want of fore-thought, which prevents their  seeing a danger till it be present. . . .
 They are more ardent after their female: but love seems with them to  be more an eager desire, than tender delicate mixture of sentiment  and sensation. Their griefs are transient. . . .
 In general, their existence appears to participate more of sensation  than reflection. To this must be ascribed their disposition to sleep  when abstracted from their diversions, and unemployed in labour. An  animal whose body is at rest, and who does not reflect, must be  disposed to sleep, of course.
 In imagination they are dull, tasteless, and anomalous.
 In music they are more generally gifted than the whites with  accurate ears for tune and time, and they have been found capable of  imagining a small catch. Whether they will be equal to the  composition of a more extensive run of melody, or of complicated  harmony, is yet to be proved.
 However, the first trope Jefferson articulated was of particular interest:
 The first difference that strikes us is that of colour. . . . And is  this difference of no importance? Is it not the foundation of a  greater or less share of beauty in the two races? Are not the fine  mixtures of red and white, the expressions of every passion by  greater or less suffusions of colour in the one, preferable to that  eternal monotony, which reigns in the countenances, that immoveable  veil of black which covers all the emotions of the other race? Add to  these, flowing hair, a more elegant symmetry of form, their own  judgement in favor of the whites, declared by their preference for  them, as uniformly is the preference of the Oranootan for the black  woman over those of his own species.
 This was not merely an expression of personal aesthetics an  assertion that black is not, in fact, beautiful. The last part of the  passage referred to a belief, seriously held by many educated  Europeans, that given opportunity, African apes would come down out  of the trees and force themselves on African females. Winthrop  Jordan, in White Over Black: American Attitudes Toward the Negro,  1550-1812, explains this belief in psychological terms: "By forging a  sexual link between Negroes and apes . . . Englishmen were able to  give vent to their feelings that Negroes were a lewd, lascivious, and  wanton people." Jefferson altered and extended the belief about the  behavior of non-human animals to the behavior of human animals. What  makes this curious especially in the context of a discussion of the  laws of Virginia is that in discussing marriage elsewhere in his  reply, Jefferson makes no mention of the anti-miscegenation laws,  although such laws had been part of the Southern criminal codes,  including Virginia's, for a hundred years. The existence and form of  those laws made it quite clear that fully consensual sexual  relationships between blacks of both genders and whites of both  genders were so common that they had to be legally discouraged. But  Jefferson turned that which was often a mutually consensual, albeit  illegal, conjoining of black male and white female into something  that was inevitably bestial rape, while making no mention of that  other business, of white male masters coupling with black female  slaves. It is not clear whether, at the time of this writing,  Jefferson himself had engaged in such behavior, but he knew it  existed. Yet rather than acknowledge the fact, or even the obvious  implication, of the long-standing miscegenation laws, Jefferson chose  to extend the European belief and suggest that the Negro male was as  rapacious with respect to white females as was the "Oranootan" toward  black females.
    After listing these and other disparagements, Jefferson modestly  summarized:
 I advance it therefore as a suspicion only, that the blacks, whether  originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and  circumstances, are inferior to the whites in the endowments both of  body and mind
and stated a conclusion in the form of another rhetorical question:
 Will not a lover of natural history then, one who views the  gradations of all the races of animals with the eye of philosophy,  excuse an effort to keep those in the department of man as distinct  as nature has formed them? This unfortunate difference of colour, and  perhaps of faculty, is a powerful obstacle to the emancipation of  these people.
 The Notes were published in England in 1797. Three years later,  Jefferson was installed as president of the American Philosophical  Society, the first scientific body in the nation. Almost  simultaneously he was elected vice president of the United States.  Three years later, as he was becoming the nation's third president,  Jefferson implicitly reiterated this position by publishing an  appendix to the Notes. Thus, at the dawn of the nineteenth century,  "Query XIV" constituted a public expression of American racial  beliefs, articulated by one of the nation's most powerful  intellectual authorities and its most powerful political authority.
    At the end of the century, the notions expressed in Query XIV  were palpable in the American reality. Jefferson's desire to deport  American blacks to "such place as the circumstances of the time  should render most proper" had been one motivation for his  constitutionally questionable prosecution of the Louisiana Purchase,  which had created much of the trans-Appalachian America celebrated at  the Chicago Exposition. His mordant prediction of fatal conflicts  between black and white in the South seemed by then to have come  terribly true; certainly the terrorism called lynching seemed to  fulfill the prophecy of "new provocations." Just who was being  provoked was a question answered by Jefferson's conversion of consent  to rape, since the justification most often given for lynching was  that a black male had brought it on himself by "insulting" a white  woman and any sexual contact between black male and white female was  assumed to be rape, even if the woman claimed it was consensual.  Meanwhile, Jefferson's more general disparagements were used to  justify the increasing trend for states to pass laws requiring racial  segregation, and the final thrust of his argument, that blacks, being  inferior, were unworthy of political equality, justified the  "grandfather clauses" and other stratagems being used to deny blacks  the right to vote.
    Not surprisingly, the arguments employed by blacks to attack  disenfranchisement, segregation, and violence focused on the terms  laid out in Query XIV. For example, Ida B. Wells's first pamphlet,  "Southern Horrors," was not merely an expose of incredible  inhumanity, but an argument against a Jeffersonian implication. Many  Americans, including many black Americans, accepted that the  allegations of rape and attempted rape associated with lynching were  true. Wells herself accepted that view, until she was prompted to  begin systematic investigation. In "Southern Horrors" she presented  documentary evidence beginning with a case from Ohio that the  allegations were but a cover story for what was actually terrorism  designed to achieve economic and political ends. She made the  argument again in "A Red Record," but many still did not get the  point; years later, Dunbar's friend, Toledo mayor Brand Whitlock,  would object to Dunbar's use of the term "innocent" to refer to  lynching victims in "The Haunted Oak."
    Opposition to Query XIV also promoted more artistic literary  activity, as one of Jefferson's disparagements was
 never yet could I find that a black had uttered a thought above the  level of a plain narration. . . . Misery is often the parent of the  most affecting touches in poetry.  Among the blacks is misery enough,  God knows, but no poetry.
 Jefferson had gone on to deny the significance of what, in 1781, was  a well-known counterexample:
 Religion indeed has produced a Phyllis Whately [sic]; but it could  not produce a poet. The compositions published under her name are  below the dignity of criticism.
 Jefferson's disparagement of Boston's Phillis Wheatley was essential  to his general argument. Brought to Boston from Africa at the age of  about six, she had learned quickly and well and soon produced poems  that were so in keeping with the conventions of English poetry that  it had been suspected that "the compositions published under her  name" had in fact been written by someone else which is to say,  someone white. That they had not been was an evaluation made by the  most prominent men of Boston, including John Hancock, co-signer, with  Jefferson, of the Declaration of Independence. A volume of her verse,  Poems on Various Subjects Religious and Moral, had been published in  England in 1773. Marbois, the intended recipient of Jefferson's  Notes, was well aware of her. In fact, he had written about Wheatley.  His opinion of her work was not particularly favorable, however  ("there is imagination poetry and zeal but no correctness nor order  nor interest"). Jefferson's assertion that Wheatley's work was "below  the dignity of criticism" was not evaluation, but desperation: her  career, fairly judged, was evidence that tore his thesis to tatters.
    The effect of Jefferson's disparagement was, in some ways,  positive, as it encouraged black institutions, especially the  churches and the schools, to pay more attention to art, particularly  literature, than they might otherwise have. It was, for example,  typical that Paul Laurence Dunbar's first public performance was the  recitation of his "An Easter Ode" at Eaker Street African Methodist  Episcopal Church, when he was about twelve, or that many of his early  professional recitations and sales of his poetry collection Oak & Ivy  took place under the auspices of church groups. While ministers and  parishioners may not have known about Query XIV, they understood that  a literary text produced by a black person was not merely an artistic  expression, but evidence. The black intelligentsia did know about  Query XIV, and they welcomed literary efforts as demonstration that  either Jefferson had been wrong about black capability or, if he had  been right, he was right no longer.
    But this also placed certain expectations on the writers and the  texts, specifically, that what was produced be acceptable in the  sight of the white critical establishment that the work be above "the  dignity of criticism." The result was that literature produced by  blacks was viewed in a complicated light. As Winthrop Jordan put it,  "From the very first, Negro Literature was chained to the issue of  racial equality." This fact has had an ongoing effect not only on  black American literature, but on the criticism of black American  literature. Certainly it has had an effect on critical statements  about Dunbar.
    By the time Dunbar appeared at the World's Columbian Exposition,  many black writers had produced texts good enough to confound  Jefferson. But there were logical problems. The greatest body of  black writing was the "slave narratives," many of which had been  produced with the assistance of white "editors," which complicated  their use as evidence of equality. (It is no accident that the full  title of Frederick Douglass's first book was Narrative of the Life of  Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, Written by Himself.)
    An additional problem was that many of the black writers were of  mixed blood. This made it possible to argue as many did that it was  this admixture of European blood that enabled them to write. In  Europe, this rationalization was used to dismiss the challenge to  white cultural superiority presented by the Russian Pushkin and the  Frenchman Dumas. In America, it was used to dismiss the challenge to  white political supremacy presented by Douglass, Harriet Jacobs,  Charlotte Forten, F. E. Watkins, and Dunbar's fellow Ohioan Charles  W. Chesnutt.
    But Dunbar was what in his time was called a "pure black" meaning  that his parentage was pure freed slave, with no white master lurking  in the woodpile. While the faces of men like Douglass and Booker T.  Washington and the young Harvard Ph.D. and Wilberforce professor  W.E.B. Du Bois showed clearly the presence of Caucasian genes,  Dunbar's complexion was dark, his features negroid.								
									 Copyright © 2005 by Paul Laurence Dunbar. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.