...and Farewell

"Columbia proved unequal to Uncle Sam and gradually was replaced as a common cartoon character." — The Ungentlemanly Art, Stephen Hess and Milton Kaplan, 1968

Today's Graphical History Tour continues following the career of Lady Columbia into the 20th Century.

"Pan-American Puck" by Samuel Ehrart in Puck, May 8, 1901

As the personification of the nation, Lady Columbia was riding high at the turn of the century. She welcomed South America to the 1901 Pan-American exposition in Buffalo, New York (where President McKinley would be assassinated).

Ehrart's cartoon illustrated the host nation's hope that, in the words of Puck's editors,

"We have extended our trade horizon to include the Antipodes, but we have not yet secured the trade of our nearest neighbors. Central and South America still find reasons for going elsewhere to do most of their shopping. The weightiest of these reasons have to do with a certain protective tariff, and the disposition of them must await the enlightenment of a certain majority of the voters,— a condition happily promising for the near future. ... Incidentally we shall become better acquainted with the resources of our own island possessions and give their people, perhaps, a more favorable view of their relationship to us than they have thus far been able to gather."

"A Fair Return" by Louis Raemaekers in Chicago Examiner,  August 15, 1917

World War I raged in Europe for three years before the U.S. entered the fray. Dutch cartoonist Louis Raemaekers welcomed U.S. entry into World War I by depicting Lady Columbia embracing Marianne, the personification of France, telling her, "When I was a child it was you who saved me."

Columbia's gown doesn't have the usual flag motif in Raemaekers cartoon — perhaps because white stars are hard to draw in charcoal.

"It's a Great Day for America" by Albert T. Reid in National Republican, Nov. 3, 1920

The stars and stripes are back in Albert Reid's cartoon. Lady Columbia, here updating her wardrobe from the robes of classical Rome to congratulate President-elect Warren Harding, was often enlisted to welcome a new administration to office.

"My Harp Is Also Turned to Mourning" by Gennette in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Sept. 7, 1901

One of Lady Columbia's chief roles in editorial cartoons was as chief mourner for the country. Cartoonists drew her grieving at the deaths of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley (in this case), Harding, and the Roosevelts, as well as other prominent figures in the news. 

"Columbia's Anguish" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Jan. 30, 1922

Here she mourned collapse of the Knickerbocker Theater in the nation's capital that killed 98. It is possible that Berryman drew this particular Columbia to represent the District of Columbia, where the tragedy occurred, instead of the bespectacled and bewigged 18th-Century gentleman that he usually drew to represent the capital city. This Columbia lacks the Phrygian cap and wears full-length mourning black.

"Hail and Farewell" by Clyde Batchelor in Washington Times-Herald, April 13, 1945

Every reference I have found about Miss Columbia agrees that she went out of fashion sometime in the 1920's, Uncle Sam, the Statie of Liberty, and the eagle becoming the go-to cartoon personifications of the United States. 

I did find this 1945 Batchelor cartoon of her paying her respects to Franklin Delano Roosevelt upon his death the day before. Perhaps because Batchelor disagreed with much of FDR's policy (his April 12 cartoon accused the administration of covering up warnings of the attack on Pearl Harbor), his Columbia isn't racked with grief she typically was for earlier fallen presidents.

Looking back at my post a few years ago of cartoons drawn after President McKinley's assassination, whereas Columbia knelt in grief, it was Uncle Sam who meted stern justice to the assassin.

Today, Lady Columbia would be horrified and ashamed of the present government’s wanton murder and disappearing of its citizens. What would Uncle Sam be doing?

"His 146th Birthday" by Charles Kuhn in Indianapolis News, July 4, 1922

One does notice Columbia fading into the background, cartoon-wise. At the nation's 146th birthday, she serves the cake; but it's Uncle Sam's birthday, not hers, even though he was at most a mere 110 years old.

"Uncle Sam Will Take a Little of the Stuffing" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Nov. 26, 1925

At Thanksgiving, Columbia serves the dinner, and while Uncle Sam frets that he'll have to settle for a little stuffing, there doesn't even appear to be a seat for her at the table. Unless a chair is hidden behind that turkey, Lady Columbia must have been demoted to kitchen staff.

"Why Not Flowers for the Living, Too" by Winsor McCay for Hearst newspapers, May 30, 1925

Would Uncle Sam deliver a bouquet of flowers to wounded veterans?

One theory is that Columbia as a cartoon character fell into disuse in the 1920's once she became the mascot for Columbia Pictures. Columbia Pictures wasn't named after her directly; the movie company was a division of Columbia Records, which was originally headquartered in the District of Columbia.

"Some Day They'll Come Crawling Back to Her" by Joseph Parrish in Chicago Tribune, June 26, 1948

Last week's post began with a cartoon of a female "America Triumphant" drawn before she was given the name Columbia, so we'll end here with one of that familiar lady, back in her liberty cap and Romanesque robe, but without the name coined by Edward Cave over two centuries before.

Uncle Samicus Curiae Mundi

The Graphical History Tour returns to January of 1926, and a moment when it appeared that Uncle Sam was ready to break out of his isolationist sulk.

"Down Comes That Fence" by William Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Jan. 29, 1926

On January 27, 1926, the U.S. Senate voted 76 to 17 in favor of joining the World Court, a proposal that had been waiting for Senate approval since the Harding administration. The World Court was established in 1921 as a peacekeeping arm of the League of Nations to provide an alternative to war for settling international disputes.

"On the Threshold" by Ed Gale in Los Angeles Times, Jan. 31, 1926

Senate approval came with reservations. Conditions stipulated in the Senate bill included requiring all World Court proceedings to be public, and that the U.S. should be a party to all cases having any effect on U.S. interests.

"Everything to Lose—Nothing to Gain" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Jan. 27, 1926

William Hanny's cartoon at the top of today's post notwithstanding, opposition to U.S. participation in the World Court remained. William Rogers depicted the Court's other members outnumbering the U.S. in unified opposition. Only Uncle Sam has any chips on this poker table (they spell out "Monroe Doctrine" and "Independence").

"The Devil's Dish" by T.E. Powers for Star newspapers, ca. Jan. 26, 1926

Opposition by the "irreconcilables" crossed party lines: there were Republicans and Democrats against anything to do with the late Woodrow Wilson's League of Nations, whereas the Coolidge administration was in favor of joining the World Court.

T.E. Powers, drawing for Democrat-affiliated Hearst newspapers, discounted the Court as a warmed-over stew of intrigue, revenge, jealousy, and hate.

"Got Him At Last" by Sam Hunter in Toronto Star, Jan. 28, 1926

Drawing from a Canadian vantage point, Sam Hunter saw the Senate bringing a reluctant Uncle Sam at long last to justice.

"All Aboard" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Jan. 28, 1926

But this Senate vote was not ratification of the treaty the U.S. had signed in Geneva. Those five reservations the Senate insisted upon were never resolved.

"Bitter Bitter Enders" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Jan. 31, 1926

In 1930, President Herbert Hoover would ask the Senate to ratify the Geneva treaty, only to have his request all but ignored. The Senate finally took up a ratification vote in 1935, during Franklin Roosevelt's first term as President. The vote in favor, 52 to 36, fell short of the two-thirds majority required.

The World Court was dissolved, along with other functions of the League of Nations, in 1945, and its duties turned over to the newly established International Court of Justice. The U.S. has been a member of the ICJ from the beginning, at least up to the present Lawless Trump Regime.

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Uncle Sam appears in six of today's seven editorial cartoons. Come back next week, when the Graphical History Tour follows up on a reader's question about another American symbol.

Inaugural Addresses, and Justice Denied

Our Graphical History Tour arrives in March of 1925 today, just in time for the inauguration of John Calvin Coolidge for his very own full term as President of the United States.

"The Inaugural Address..." by William Ceperley in Davenport Democrat, March 4, 1925

Coolidge's address focused on lauding the peacetime economic boom the country was enjoying. His themes of personal liberties and free markets are bound to show up again and again in Jeff Bezos-approved Washington Post editorials.

American editorial cartoonists paid more attention to Vice President Dawes, who used his inaugural speech to lambaste the Senate rules for "unlimited debate," more commonly known as the filibuster.

"Say, Listen" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, March 5, 1925

Senate rules at the time allowed any one senator or group of senators to prevent any measure from coming to a vote, which the Coolidge administration blamed for failure to get some of its priorities passed into law. A two-thirds vote of the Senate was required to end a filibuster; and invoking cloture against any one Senator's wishes dated back only to 1917. 

Even after 1917, invoking cloture needed bipartisan support; although Republicans held a solid majority in the chamber most of that time, their majority fell short of the two-thirds threshold.

"It's Going to Be a Terrible Strain" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, March 6, 1925

The two-thirds rule survived Vice President Dawes's objections, and wasn't reduced to three-fifths until 1975. That threshold remains in effect today, except for approving judicial and cabinet nominations (lowered to 50% in 2010).

"Something Tells Us This Will Be Worth Watching" by Bill Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, March 6, 1925

When the Senate convened in March of 1925 to establish its rules for the upcoming session, however, Vice President Dawes was not present to swear the members in. (Remember how Kamala Harris was responsible for swearing in our current Senators in January?) No matter, decided the world's most deliberative body. The Senators decided to consider themselves all sworn into office regardless.

"But Sheridan Was Forty Miles Away" by Harold Talburt for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. March 13, 1925

Meanwhile, most of Coolidge's new cabinet easily passed congressional approval, with one prominent exception.

His Attorney General nominee, Charles B. Warren, could have been easily confirmed for any other post in Coolidge's cabinet. But he was suspected of not supporting the Sherman Anti-Trust Act dating because of his role as counsel in 1902 for Michigan sugar interests. When the Senate rejected Warren's nomination by a tie vote, Vice President Dawes was again absent — reportedly taking a nap — and did not cast his tie-breaking vote.

"Bet I Know One Vote That'll Be on Hand" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, March 13, 1925

President Coolidge simply resubmitted Warren's nomination, but the confirmation vote in the Senate fell short a second time — even with the Vice President awake and presiding. 

"Maybe Charlie Gave Old Dobbin an Overdose" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, March 18, 1925

Just one day after that stinging defeat, the Senate consented to Coolidge's nomination of John G. Sargent, a childhood friend of Coolidge's and a former Vermont Attorney General, to head the U.S. Justice Department.

"Never Stab an Elephant in the Back" by Ed Gale in Los Angeles Times, March 11, 1925

Progressive Republicans had employed their gains in the 1922 elections to take some congressional committee chairmanships. Those deals were now off; Senate leaders punished Wisconsin Senator Robert LaFollette and other "insurgents" who had supported his third-party presidential bid, deposing them from those chair positions and transferring them to less influential committees.

"Al, and William, Come Out" by William C. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, ca. March 6, 1925

As for the Democrats, Coolidge's landslide victory left them a party in the wilderness. Nominal leaders of the Democratic Party Al Smith and William MacAdoo were still licking their wounds from their bruising convention battle. And as far as cartoonists were concerned, The Democrats' last two presidential candidates, Cox and John Davis, had already returned to the obscurity whence they had come.

"Wouldn't It Be Easier to Catch a New One" by Wm. Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, March 10, 1925

The GOP-aligned Philadelphia Inquirer editors and their cartoonist, William Hanny, appear to have spotted an up-and-comer in the opposition. (Even if Hanny didn't quite have a convincing caricature of FDR just yet.)

The Long, Slow Race to the Finish

Our Graphical History Tour today finds the 1924 election campaigns heading into the final stretch, wrapping it up with a bow, and firing their last salvos. 

"Trying to Attract the Attention of the Enemy" by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, Oct. 17, 1924

From John McCutcheon's perch in the Republican stands, the U.S. presidential contest had come down to one between his party's incumbent President Calvin Coolidge and its defector to the Progressive Party, Senator Robert LaFollette. He cast Democratic nominee John Davis as the third-party also-ran.

"I Don't Believe That Chap Can Read" by Clifford Berryman in Washington [DC] Evening Star, Oct. 6, 1924

Democratic partisans put a brave face on things — such was their job, after all — in spite of polls and straw votes giving a marked advantage to the Republicans.

Straw votes in presidential contests date back one century further to 1824; and if the press generally reported them as indicating present mood rather than forecasting the official vote, editorial cartoonists were not alone in reading them as predictions. The straw polls might be limited to the students at a particular university, or members of a certain profession, or just passers-by at a busy street corner.

Opinion polls came along more recently, and supposedly were more scientific; the Literary Digest poll, launched in 1916, had successfully predicted the presidential races in that year and 1920. The first truly national poll, the Literary Digest mailed post cards around the country and tallied the results of those that were returned.

"The Dark Outlook" by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Daily Star, Oct. 20, 1924

Tom Foley, who favored LaFollette, posed a scenario that minimized Republicans' chances by overstating LaFollette's and Davis's. In the end, LaFollette carried only his home state of Wisconsin; and Davis failed to win New Mexico, Arizona, Missouri, West Virginia, Maryland, or Delaware.

I won't even get into Foley's forecast of Upper Michigan casting separate electoral votes from Lower Michigan.

"Who Was It Who Traded Their Birthright..." by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, Oct. 31, 1924

For the time being, Republicans' main worry was the possibility that LaFollette's candidacy could result in none of the three major presidential candidates reaching an electoral college majority. In that case, the election of a President would be decided in the House of Representatives, and the Vice President chosen in the Senate.

By the way, the answer to Darling's question was Esav Ben-Yitzchak, if you're wondering.

"What It Will Mean" by Charles Kuhn in Indianapolis News, Oct. 24, 1924

GOP stalwart Charles Kuhn devoted nearly a dozen cartoons in October of 1924 to dire predictions of chicanery and chaos if the election were to be given to Congress to decide. (And still Kuhn had not ventured a comment on the Klan-ridden statewide races in his home state of Indiana.)

The Republican congressional majorities in both houses included some Progressives who could not be counted on to support Calvin Coolidge. Prominent Progressives Hiram Johnson (R-CA) and William Borah (R-ID) promised to support the Republican ticket, but Iowa Senator Smith W. Brookhart stirred things up by declaring himself for LaFollette.

"They've All Gone Wrong But Me" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Oct. 3, 1924

Charles Kuhn may have had no opinions about Indiana politics in the summer and fall of 1924, but other editorial cartoonists were happy to take note of races close to home. In Ohio, Governor Alvin "Honest Vic" Donahey had some reliable campaign help as he ran for a second term...

"This Looks Pretty Good to Me" by James "Hal" Donahey in Cleveland Plain Dealer, Oct. 14, 1924

His younger brother, James Harrison Donahey, was the front page editorial cartoonist for the Cleveland Plain Dealer. From that perch, "Hal" repeatedly sang the praises of his older brother...

"My, What a Clatter" by James H. Donahey in Cleveland Plain Dealer, Oct. 24, 1924

...and pooh-poohed the corruption charges against "Honest Vic" made by his Republican opponent, former Governor Harry L. Davis. (I could have made a post here made up of Donahey's in-kind contributions to his brother's campaign, but I might not have been able to come up with much to say about the cartoons after the first four or five of them.)

"The Little Stick" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Oct. 4, 1924

Speaking of family, New York Republicans nominated as their gubernatorial candidate against Democrat Al Smith Theodore Roosevelt III, son of the late president. Sullied by the Teapot Dome scandal while Assistant Secretary of the Navy in the Harding administration but cleared of any wrong-doing, he returned criticism from his cousin Franklin: "He's a maverick! He does not wear the brand of our family."

"With All the Heirlooms" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, Sept. 26, 1924

As we discussed last week, elections were held across the pond in the United Kingdom, too. The specific issues forcing Ramsay MacDonald's Labour government to stand for election were reported in the U.S. press, but I'm not finding many American cartoons getting into the particulars.

"We Got Company" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Oct. 16, 1925

There was certainly delight in some quarters, however, at his fall. 

"Well, Well, Still They Come" by Dorman Smith for NEA, ca. Oct. 25, 1924

Germany was headed for a snap election as well. The Reichstag was dissolved on October 20, with elections set for December 7. Given that it was Germany's second election that year, Americans probably greeted the news with a yawn — just another change of government in hapless Deutschland — but Germany was in fact just then entering into its so-called "Glückliche Zwanzigers," the brief period of economic recovery that ended with the global crash at decade's end.

"The Dancing-Master and the Bag-Piper" by K.A. Suvanto in Daily Worker, Chicago, Oct. 8, 1924

If you caught last week's sampling of cartoons by Montreal Star cartoonist A.G. Racey, you remember that the opposition to the Labour government charged that MacDonald failed to prosecute a communist newspaper for advocating mutiny in his majesty’s armed services and that he was an unwitting dupe of Soviet Russia. 

The commies at the Daily Worker in Chicago argued instead that MacDonald was a stooge of British capitalists.

"Took Me Just Three Weeks" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Oct. 30, 1924 

The British Parliament dissolved on October 9, and its Conservative Party won in a landslide on October 29. This Berryman cartoon just goes to show that Americans' longing for a shorter election season is nothing new.

And yet, our election season just keeps getting longer and longer, anyway.

The Democrats' 103rd Choice

It’s time to check in on the 1924 Democratic National Convention and find out whether the party Will Rodgers belonged to had figured out who its candidate for president was.

"Sea Sick" by William Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, July 2, 1924

When we left the 1924 Democratic National Convention, the leading contenders were William McAdoo, lately of California, and Al Smith, Governor of New York; a host of other candidates hoped to capitalize when one of the leaders fell.

As the convention entered its second week, seven ballots were cast on July 1; but the Democrats were no closer to agreeing on their standard bearer than when they had begun.

"As Berryman Views the Convention" by Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Evening Star, July 2, 1924

A tradition we are sadly losing these days is newspapers sending their editorial cartoonists to political conventions to send back their sketches of the activity on the floor. Clifford Berryman's sketchbook entries included future president Franklin Delano Roosevelt, returning to politics after being sidelined by polio, and Woodrow Wilson's red-baiting Attorney General, A. Mitchell Palmer.

"Platform Carpenters Produce Plank Mentioning No Names" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 1, 1924

Meanwhile, as the balloting for the party's nominee dragged on, cartoonists' work on editorial pages took on the issues bedeviling the platform committee.

"Forgot to Look Under the Bed" by O.P. Williams for Star Company, ca. July 2, 1924

A proposed plank to condemn the Ku Klux Klan drew strong opposition from the populists, and many rural southern and western delegates.

"Pandora" by Bill Sykes in Philadelphia Public Record, ca. July 1, 1924

Nor could delegates agree on a party position on prohibition. Many of McAdoo’s delegates stood in defense of Prohibition and the Klan; Smith supporters were against both. 

"Where to Now, Sam" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, July 3, 1924

"Ding" Darling was another cartoonist attending the convention; and while several of his cohorts were sending rough sketches to their editors, Darling was sending home fully realized editorial cartoons. This is one of four Darling cartoons in the Register that day, and it highlights a significant issue overlooked by many other editorial cartoonists: Democrats' alienation of the labor vote in favor of Wall Street and the South.

"Why Not Something Permanent for the Future" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 8, 1924

One consequence of the convention dragging on and on was that delegates were overstaying their hotel reservations, and, presumably in some cases, their funds.  

William McAdoo maintained a lead through the 77th ballot, but never attained a majority of the votes, let alone the required two-thirds supermajority required by party rules.

"Aw, Give a Feller a Chance" by William A. Rogers in New York World, July, 1924

The Library of Congress dates this William Rogers cartoon August of 1925. I've checked, and the Democrats were not still trying to decide on their nominee ten months after the election. It's the date written in the lower left corner, but it must be the date when Rogers gave the original of the cartoon to F.R. Tyler (if I'm reading the script correctly).  

"Just Can't Understand It" by Albert T. Reid in Rutland Daily Herald, July 17, 1924

Seeing that the nomination would never be his, McAdoo withdrew from the race. Many of his supporters flocked to Indiana Senator Samuel Ralston. Ralston declined to disavow support of the Klan, and enjoyed what political writers of the day called a "boom"; but in the end, the 300-lb., 66-year-old Hoosier heeded his doctor's advice and dropped out of the race.

Alfred Smith led the pack in ballots 86 through 93, and again on ballots 99 and 100. But the candidate of the host of the convention couldn't win the support of one-third of the delegates, let alone two-thirds of them, and ultimately faced the music and pulled out of the race.

"Just as the Roof Fell In" by Edward Gale in Los Angeles Times, July 10, 1924

Finally, on the 103rd ballot, the nomination went to "dark horse" candidate John W. Davis, formerly a congressman from West Virginia and Ambassador to Great Britain, who had come in third on most of the earlier ballots.

"Started at Last" by Douglas Rodger in San Francisco Bulletin, July 11, 1924

To balance the ticket, the vice presidential nod went to Charles W. Bryan, the populist Governor of Nebraska and brother of perennial presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan.

"Those Cyclones Do Play the Queerest Tricks" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, July 11, 1924

I ran across quite a few tornado references in July, 1924 editorial cartoons. It's the season for such storms, after all.

"Trying to Take Out the Soreness" by J.N. Darling in Des Moines Register, July 14, 1924

The elder Bryan got over his earlier opposition to Davis and fell in with the new party line. 

These cartoons portraying a diminutive Charles Bryan remind me of R.C. Bowman's cartoons of William Bryan and his 1900 running mate, Adlai Stevenson.

"And Yet He Asks Your Votes" possibly by O.P. Williams for Star Company July 12, 1924

Not everyone was willing to become Davis fans. I'm guessing that the above cartoon was by O.P. Williams, even though I can't spot his typically tiny signature on it. The shading is in Williams's style, and he was a regular feature of the Washington Herald editorial page, which ran this cartoon.

"You Wait and See" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, July, 1924

One of the party defectors denouncing Davis was Senator Burton K. Wheeler of Montana, who may or may not be the object of Rollin Kirby's cartoon above. 

"Watch 'Battling Bob' Bust Up the Love Feast" by Harold Talburt for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. July 21, 1924

Wheeler would accept the second spot on Robert LaFollette's Progressive Party ticket — its third party convention being held in Cleveland, Ohio during the second week of the Democrats' convention.

"Real Cause for Alarm" by O.P. Williams for Star Company, ca. July 7, 1924