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 entitled 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.
[Illustration: The Gratz Brown Tag to Greeley's Coat.]
[Illustration: 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 Jackass 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.
[Illustration: First Appearance of the Cap and Dinner Pail as
Emblematic of Labor.]
[Illustration: 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."
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: "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.
[Illustration: The Tattooed Columbia.
_By courtesy of the Puck Company._]
[Illustration: Splitting the Party.
_From the collection of the New York Historical Society._]
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: The Radical Party on a Heavy Grade.
_From the collection of the New York Historical Society._]