The History of the Nineteenth Century in Caricature Part 12

CHAPTER XXVI

THOMAS NAST

It was not until late in the '60's, when Thomas Nast began his pictorial campaign in the pages of _Harper's Weekly_ against the Ring which held New York in its clutches, that American caricature could claim a pencil which ent.i.tled it to any sort of consideration from the artistic point of view. Some of the cartoons which have been reproduced in earlier papers of this series have possessed unquestionable cleverness of invention and idea; for instance, many of those dealing with President Jackson's administration and his relations with the United States Bank, and some of the purely allegorical cartoons treating of slavery and of the Civil War. But in all these there was so much lacking; so many artistic shortcomings were covered up by the convenient loops. The artists felt themselves free from any obligation to give expression to the countenances of their subjects so long as the fundamental idea was there, and the loops offered an easy vehicle for the utterance of thoughts and feelings which a modern artist would feel obliged to express in the drawing itself--by a skillful quirk of the pencil, an added line, an exaggerated smile or frown. It was a thoroughly wooden school of caricature, in which one can find no trace of the splendid suggestion which the caricaturists should at that time have been drawing from contemporary masters of the art in France and England.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Gratz Brown Tag to Greeley's Coat.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Thomas Nast.]

Although during the years of his fecundity Thomas Nast drew many cartoons bearing on events of international importance, his name will always be remembered, first of all, in connection with the series through which he held up the extravagances and iniquities of the Tweed Ring in the pillory of public opinion. He had decided convictions on other subjects. To the end of his life it was his nature to feel intensely, even in small matters. But his scorn and hatred of the corrupt organization that was looting New York became a positive mania, which was reflected in the cartoons which he literally hurled week after week against Tweed and his satellites. "I don't care what they write about me," said Tweed, "but can't you stop those terrible cartoons?" and in the end they, more than anything else, led to his downfall, his flight and his capture in Spain, where he was recognized by the police through the likeness Nast had drawn of him as a kidnaper. But in recognizing Nast's services in behalf of New York City it is not fair to overlook his work as a political caricaturist on broader issues. To him we owe also the Gratz Brown tag to Greeley's coat in the campaign of 1872, the "Rag Baby of Inflation," the Jacka.s.s as emblematic of the Democratic Party, the Labor Cap and the Full Dinner Pail, which in later years were so much developed by the cartoonists of _Judge_. And if to-day, at the beginning of the twentieth century, we have a school of caricature which for scope and craftsmanship is equal, if not superior, to that of any nation of Europe, it is only just to recognize that it was Thomas Nast who first gave American caricature a dignity and a meaning.

[Ill.u.s.tration: First Appearance of the Cap and Dinner Pail as Emblematic of Labor.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: The First "Rag Baby."]

The earliest Presidential election which falls within the scope of the present chapter, that of 1872, antedates the establishment of American comic weeklies. The central figure in the few caricatures which have survived from that year was, of course, Horace Greeley, whose candidacy at one time was thought seriously to threaten the fortunes of the Republican Party. The caricatures themselves, with the exception of those drawn by Thomas Nast, show little improvement over the caricatures which were executed during the Civil War. The artists relied entirely upon the traditional loops to make them intelligible to the public, and the features of the political characters portrayed were expressionless and wooden. One of the best of this series was drawn in support of the Horace Greeley candidacy. Uncle Sam is represented as a landlord and President Grant as his tenant, a shiftless widow with a dog at her heels and a bottle of rum in the basket on her arm. The Widow Grant has come to ask for a new lease.

"Well, Uncle Sam," she says, "I've called to see if you will let me have the White House for four years longer, as I find the place suits me very well." "No, Marm Grant," retorts Uncle Sam, shaking his head, "I reckon I'll do no such thing. I've had too many complaints about you from the neighbors during the last four years. I'm just sick of you and your tobacco smoke and bull pups, so I've given the lease to Honest Horace Greeley, who will take better care of the place than you have."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Donkey. First used to ridicule the Inflation Tendency.]

In another of this series Horace Greeley is represented as the entering wedge that is splitting the rock of the Republican Party.

Greeley, with a paper hearing the words "Free Trade" in one hand and one bearing "Protection" in the other, is being hammered into the cleft in the Republican rock by a huge mallet--Democratic Nomination--wielded by Carl Schurz. "This is rather a novel position for a stanch old Republican like me," he says. "I begin to feel as if I was in a tight place." President Grant, with a cigar in his hand, is looking on complacently. "My friend," he calls out to Schurz, "you've got a soft thing on your wedge, but your mallet will kill the man." To which Schurz replies: "I don't care who's killed, if we succeed in defeating your election." Below, creeping furtively about the rock, are the figures of Dana, Sumner, Gratz Brown, Trumbull, Hall, Sweeny, Tweed, and Hoffman of the Ring. "Anything to beat Grant!" is the cry of these conspirators. "Honesty is the word to shout, there are so many rogues about," mutters Tweed. "Oh, how freely we'll win with Greeley," says Hall. "Anything to beat Grant. He wouldn't make me Collector for New York," are the words of Dana. The cartoon is a belated specimen of the school of American caricature which was in vogue in the days of President Jackson.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Brains of Tammany.]

As has already been stated, _Puck_ was not founded until 1877, too late to take part in the Tilden-Hayes campaign. When we speak of _Puck_, however, we refer, of course, to the edition printed in English, for, as a matter of fact, twenty-four numbers of a German _Puck_ were published during the year 1876.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A Popular Verdict."]

As that year was an important one in American history, these numbers can by no means he ignored, and despite their crude appearance when contrasted with the _Puck_ of later days, they contain some of Keppler's most admirable work. For instance, there is the figure of the tattooed Columbia, the precursor of Gillam's famous Tattooed Man.

This figure appeared in November, 1876, and was the idea of Charles Hauser, a member of the first editorial staff of the young weekly. The artist's idea of the unhappy condition of our nation is shown in the hideous tattooed designs with which Columbia's body is scarred from head to foot. We can read "Whisky Ring," "Black Friday," "Secession,"

"Tammany," "Election Frauds," "Corruption," "Civil War," "Credit Mobilier," and "Taxes." The figure is as repulsive as that which eight years later drove Mr. Blaine to frenzy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Tattooed Columbia.

_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Splitting the Party.

_From the collection of the New York Historical Society._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: You pays your Money and you takes your Choice.

_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]

A familiar device in the caricature of the later '70's was that of representing political figures as being headless and placing their heads in another part of the picture, so that you might adjust them to suit yourself. In this way the artist did not commit himself to prophecy and was enabled to please both parties. For instance, an excellent example of this is shown in the cartoon called "You Pays Your Money and You Takes Your Choice," drawn by Keppler during the campaign of 1876. Of the two headless figures one is seated in the window of the White House gesticulating derisively at his beaten opponent. The other, thoroughly crushed and with a nose of frightfully exaggerated length--both Mr. Tilden and Mr. Hayes were rather large-nosed men--is leaning helplessly against the wall of the cold outside. At the bottom of the picture are the heads of the two candidates, which one might cut out and adjust as pleased himself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Radical Party on a Heavy Grade.

_From the collection of the New York Historical Society._]

CHAPTER XXVII

THE AMERICAN POLITICAL CAMPAIGNS OF 1880 AND 1884

Probably no cartoon dealing with the Garfield-Hanc.o.c.k campaign of 1880 was more widely discussed than that called "Forbidding the Banns,"

drawn for _Puck_ by Keppler. It was a cartoon which an American comic paper would publish to-day only after considerable hesitation, for there was in it the spirit of a less delicate age, a coa.r.s.eness which was pardonable only when the genuine strength and humor of the complete work are taken into consideration. "Forbidding the Banns"

shows a political wedding party at the altar with Uncle Sam as the reluctant and uncomfortable groom, General Garfield as the eager bride, and the figure of the ballot box as the officiating clergyman.

The bridesmaids are Mr. Whitelaw Reid and Carl Schurz, with Murat Halstead bringing up the rear. The ceremony is well along and the contracting parties are about to be united when W. H. Barnum, the chairman of the Democratic National Committee, rushes in shouting, "I forbid the banns!" and waving frantically the figure of a little baby marked "Credit Mobilier." The faces of all the bridal party show consternation at the unexpected interruption, while the bride protests coyly: "But it was such a little one."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Forbidding the Banns." A Famous Cartoon of the Garfield-Hanc.o.c.k Campaign.

_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]

The defeat of General Hanc.o.c.k in 1880 was commemorated by Keppler in _Puck_ with the cartoon called "The Wake over the Remains of the Democratic Party." The ludicrous corpse of the defunct is stretched on a rough board and covered with a loose sheet. The lighted candles at the four corners protrude from the necks of bottles, and the mourners are indulging in a protracted carouse which seems destined to end in a free fight. In the center of the picture Kelly, with Ben Butler as a partner, is doing a dance in the most approved manner of Donnybrook Fair. All about there is the general atmosphere of turmoil and unnatural excitement, but the figures of Hewitt, Davis, Belmont, and English are stretched out in a manner indicating that the festivities of the night have proved too much for them.

As has already been pointed out, the political caricature commemorating the Cleveland-Blaine campaign of 1884 was chiefly remarkable for its extraordinary rancor. There was little, if any, really good-natured satire underlying these cartoons; they were designed and executed vindictively, and their main object was to hurt.

Mr. Cleveland's official record in Buffalo, and as Governor of New York, had been such as to cause many of the more liberal Republicans to support his candidacy and offered little to the political cartoonist, so the opponents of Republican caricature found it expedient to base their attacks on matters of purely personal nature.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Wake over the Remains of the Democratic Party after the Election of 1880.

_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]

Even in later years the cartoonist did not entirely refrain from this method of belittling Mr. Cleveland's capabilities. It was sneeringly said that much of the success of his administration was due to the charm, the tact, and the personal magnetism of Mrs. Cleveland, and this idea was the inspiration of a number of cartoons which were far from being in the best of taste. One of these which was not particularly offensive was that ent.i.tled "Mr. Cleveland's Best Card."

It was simply a huge playing card bearing the picture of Mrs.

Cleveland. Another much more obnoxious was a curious imitation of the famous French cartoon "Partant pour la Syrie," which was published in Paris after the flight of the Empress Eugenie.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Common Sorrow.]

The Democratic cartoonists, besides their use of the Tattooed Man idea and the alleged scandals in Mr. Blaine's political career, made a strong point of the soundness and cleanness of Mr. Cleveland's official record. A typical caricature of this nature was that drawn by Gillam called "Why They Dislike Him." It represents Mr. Cleveland as a lion lying on the rock of Civil Service Reform. Perched on the limb of a tree overhead are a group of chattering monkeys, his political enemies, who are hurling at him imprecations and abuse because he will not consent to serve as the cats-paw to pluck the chestnuts for them out of the political fire. Familiar faces among the group of noisy bandar-log are those of Croker, Butler, and Dana. Prostrate and helpless under the paw of the lion is a monkey with the face of Grady.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Why They dislike Him.

_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: The First "Tattooed Man" Cartoon.

_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]

The most terrible and effective series of cartoons published during the Cleveland-Blaine campaign was that in which the Republican candidate appeared as the Tattooed Man in the political show. For many weeks during the summer and autumn of 1884 Mr. Blaine was a.s.sailed through this figure in the pages of _Puck_. The story of the origin of this historic cartoon is as follows: Mr. Bernard Gillam, the artist, had conceived the idea of a cartoon in which each of the Presidential possibilities should appear as some sort of freak in a political side-show. One of these freaks was to be the Tattooed Man, but Mr.