Epitaph for R. C. Bowman

I wrapped up my post the other day about this year's AAEC convention by mentioning that I used the occasion to donate a 121-year-old book of editorial cartoons to the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library and Museum.

The cover of R.C. Bowman's book

Okay, it's not on the same level as Monte Wolverton donating a busload of his father's cartoon work to the BICL&M, but my Dad isn't a cartoonist. Although he was in a Vaughn Shoemaker cartoon once and has the original hanging in his office.

Outside of my own blog posts about the book, there isn't much on line about turn-of-the-century Minneapolis Tribune editorial cartoonist Rowland C. Bowman. Part of the reason for that is that he died quite young, overpowered by gas fumes at his home.

Report in Culver (IN) Citizen, June 4, 1903

Which is not to say that Bowman was either obscure or quickly forgotten. The Strand magazine was very impressed with him (and with Minneapolis Journal cartoonist Charles "Bart" Bartholomew) in a 1902 article about U.S. editorial cartoonists. And Syd Hoff included a pair of Bowman cartoons in his 1976 tome Editorial and Political Cartooning: From Earliest Times to the Present With Over 700 Examples from the Works of the World's Greatest Cartoonists.

"Royal Leap Frog" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, May 30, 1903

Bowman's last editorial cartoon in the Minneapolis Tribune appeared on Saturday, May 30, 1903. Starting on Sunday, May 31, the Tribune began running cartoons by C.F. Naughton in Bowman's front-page spot.

"And When They Grow Up, They Would Not Put Away Childish Things" by C.F. Naughton in Minneapolis Tribune, May 31, 1903

Long-time followers of these Saturday history posts may remember that Naughton was editorial cartoonist at the Duluth Evening Herald in the 19-teens.

If any readers of the Minneapolis Tribune spotted that Bowman had been replaced at the bottom of Page One, they found the explanation on the bottom of Page Eight. I'll be charitable and attribute the Tribune's misspelling his name to the news room's collective grief.

in Minneapolis Tribune, May 31, 1903

The remainder of today's post is the text verbatim of the Minneapolis Tribune article reporting Bowman's death. The Strand piece, which it quotes extensively, mentions cartoons accompanying it. The cartoons interspersed with my transcription of the Tribune's report are from Bowman's 1901 book, not the 1902 Strand article.

"Don't You Want to Buy a Dog"

Roland [sic] C. Bowman, aged 32, cartoonist at The Minneapolis Tribune, poet, author, and entertainer, died yesterday at his home, 2016 James avenue south.

Mr. Bowman's death was sudden, and comes as a terrible shock and profound sorrow to his wife and little ones, his associates in newspaper, art, and literary work, his hosts of personal friends, and to the thousands of men, women, and children all over the country who did not know the man, but loved and respected him for the smiles he had brought into their workaday lives, and the lessons he had taught.

The influence for good of a man like R.C. Bowman is incalculable, and no one knows how many lives will miss the genial and rational pleasure and help derived from his clever, highminded, yet simple and kindly picture stories.

OVERCOME BY GAS

Mr. Bowman was found overcome by gas in his study at 2 o'clock Thursday afternoon by a relative. He was totally unconscious, and finding it impossible to arouse him, a physician was instantly called. In a short time two physicians and a trained nurse were working over him trying to bring him back to life.

Every effort was in vain. No remedy, device, or method known to the science of medicine was omitted in the case, and at times it seemed that it was assuming a hopeful aspect. But the symptoms of recovery were brief and feeble, and the general trend of the case was downward, until, yesterday afternoon, Mr. Bowman died without ever having regained full consciousness or spoken a single word.

He is survived by a widow and two beautiful babies, who were his delight and inspiration, and by a widowed mother and one sister who live in Benton Harbor, Mich., where his body will be taken for burial. Funeral services will be held at his late home in this city, of which an announcement will be made later.

"Getting Scorched"

About six months ago, Mr. Bowman's health broke down slightly under the strain of his work, and since that time he had done his drawing in the restful seclusion of his own home. He had planned for the coming summer an extensive trip through Europe, taken by the advice of his friends for the benefit of his health.

WAS A MICHIGAN BOY

Roland C. Bowman was born in St. Joe, Mich. December 29, 1870. That city and Benton Harbor are divided only by a narrow river, and in the two he spent his boyhood and young manhood, and gathered unconsciously the boyish experiences which were later to be wrought by his genius into sources of mingled smiles and tears to those who knew his work. His memories of school, of work, and of play were colors which he took frequently from the palette of his mind to tint the tender, playful verses and the cartoons of child-life, which he loved most to create.

His marked talent for making pictures which told a humorous or forceful story appeared early in life, and his first work in newspaper illustration was done on a small newspaper in St. Joe. At the age of 19 he contributed illustrations and a few cartoons to the Arkansas Traveler.

"Not Worth Landing"

He never attended an art school, was entirely self-taught, and in a large measure self-developed. From St. Joe he went to Grand Rapids, Mich., where he worked for a time on the staff of the Herald, after which he started for the West.

After a brief sojourn in La Crosse, Wis., where he made chalk plates for a local paper, he came to Minneapolis, and secured a position with the Times, where he did general art work, illustrating, sketching, etc. Nearly seven years ago, after working with the Times six months, he became the cartoonist of the Tribune. His subsequent advance was rapid, but was the well deserved fruit of his genius and tireless industry.

"Rah! Rah! Rah"

He created the irresistible child characters Little Alf and Susan Mary, whose adventures with their Grandpa Tabor in the Sunday Tribune delighted and entertained thousands of children of all ages through the Northwest.

THE FAMOUS DOG

Another creation of Mr. Bowman's, which well illustrated his power of wielding little things, and of touching all he did with a captivating originality, was the famous "dog," which figured in all his cartoon work.

This little animal, which became the household pet of the children of the Northwest, first appeared in a cartoon several years ago, showing the triumphant return to Minneapolis of the baseball team bearing the pennant. Dancing and shouting around the coach which bore the triumphant team, were many quaint and ridiculous figures, among which was the dog. The favorable comments made upon the little canine led to its being introduced again, and still again, until finally Mr. Bowman adopted the quaint plan of putting it into all of his daily cartoons. Occasionally, he would hide the little fellow in a corner, or behind a tree or rock, and then his mail would be full of letters asking where the dog was, or announcing someone's success or failure in discovering it.

"The Run-Away Bill"

"FRECKLES AND TAN"

Of Mr. Bowman's publications the best known is "Freckles and Tan," a collection of clever verses, full of the true spirit of happy simple childhood, which Mr. Bowman possessed in greater measure than many children themselves; and replete with the every day, homely human touches which distinguished and beautified his drawings. Several editions of the little book were issued, and it enjoyed a marked vogue and flattering success.

HIS CHALK TALKS

Mr. Bowman's chalk talks, or illustrated lectures, which have been for several years a most popular entertainment in the Twin Cities and the Northwest, are difficult to describe adequately. Their great charm, so evident to their hearers, is illusive as a butterfly to catch and analyze. Most prominent, however, among their many delightful qualities, and the one, perhaps, to which their peculiar delight was due, is again the human note which sounded so clearly and sweetly through all his work. As he drew his odd, mischievous youngsters, and told of their pranks and plays, their troubles and sorrows, he was one with the little heroes and heroines of his story, and in perfect sympathy also with those who heard him.

"Whoa, Boy"

THE STRAND ARTICLE

His cartoons were widely copied, newspapers the country over making use of them, and reviews and magazines delighting to reproduce them. In a series of articles written for The Strand by Arthur Lord on "American Cartoonists and Their Work," Mr. Bowman's work is analyzed as follows in the issue for October, 1902:

"Mr. R.C. Bowman, of The Minneapolis Tribune, belongs to the ever-spreading good-natured school. This artist, who began at the age of 19 on the Arkansas Traveler, has devoted about twelve years to the art of caricature, and he possesses theories about his work which many a less-known man might take to heart, with accruing advantage to himself and the public. Bowman believes that a cartoon can be to the point without being malicious, and that it is not necessary to make ogres of men in order to show that you differ with them politically. A running glance at his various cartoons shows that Mr. Bowman has pronounced ideas of right and wrong, and that he takes his stand conscientiously on all matters of social and political import, but you will hunt in vain for any trace of partisan spleen. During the five years that he has been with the Tribune his output has been as enormous as its scope has been varied, and the friendships he has made have been not only among those of his own party, but also among his political foes. The man who laughs most heartily at a cartoon when that cartoon is good-humored is very often the subject of the cartoon himself. Where Davenport, in short, would make an enemy, Bowman would make a friend, so great is the difference in the styles of the two men.

"Of Course It's Heavy. But Think of the Glory"

"Bowman is a careful student of politics, and his picture editorials always present a strong argument. He possesses a rare originality, and spontaneous humor and that his drawings are well thought out is proved by their simplicity in detail. Bowman is a humorist and not a satirist, and has attained his success through adherence to well-defined principles of directness, simplicity and gentleness. The Tribune reader opens his paper with the knowledge that he is not going to squirm.

"Look, by the way, at Bowman's cartoons, and see if you can find the dog. The Bowman dog has become famous. This remarkable little canine which the cartoonist introduces into nearly all of his work is full of expression and the keynote of the story [is] often found in the antics of the pup. If he is scared, in common with the elephant and the donkey, at the advent of the Third Party, you will find him running into the distance with marvelous alacrity. He rests, with wonder-eyed demureness, beside Carnegie and Morgan, while John Bull tacks down his island, and when the battleship Kentucky arrives off the coast of Turkey, he is — well, find him for yourself. If the small boys of Minneapolis, as is said, may be found chalking Bowman's dog on sidewalks and fences, it is proof of the popularity of the cartoonist, which needs no further to be proved.

"The Meanderings of Willie and Little Steve" (from a series)

"Bowman has a great fondness for children, and we believe that it is his highest ambition to become a successful writer of child's verse. He has already published one volume which contains verse of this sort that may reasonably be compared with the late Eugene Field. He is also a "chalk talker" and indulges now and then in a funny lecture, which he illustrates with his own hand. In our photograph you may [see in] him an able bodied, happy and good natured gentleman, standing by the side of his blackboard as if in lecture pose, and from the appearance of the man and examples of his work we may easily understand the quality of the reputation made by him throughout the great and enterprising West."

"It Turns Out to Be a Hornet's Nest"

The following verses from "Freckles and Tan," page 12, is a good illustration of Mr. Bowman's child poems.

THE ODE TO THE HAIR BRUSH

"Mandy, Pass Up Here and Let Me Give You Another Slice of the Paramount Issue"

World News

 Come with me on a quick world tour in 1921, won't you?

"St. Patrick's Day Dream of Tomorrow" by Bob Satterfield for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., March 17, 1921

Since we've just made it past another St. Patrick's Day, we'll start with Ireland; where their British overlords celebrated the holiday by hanging six Irish Republicans convicted of killing British intelligence officers.

"Peace and Permanent Settlement" by David Low in London Star, Jan./Feb., 1921

Sir Edward Carson was the Conservative MP given the task of finding a peaceful settlement to Britain's Irish problem. His was the novel observation that if Irish Catholics and Protestants would just stop killing each other, they wouldn't have to live in fear of each other. 

"The Dove of Peace" by Jon Cottrell in Chronicle, Manchester, ca. March, 1921

Coming to England from Australia, David Low saw the issue of Irish independence (and Indian independence as well) differently than most of the other cartoonists on that Blessed Isle. According to his memoir, Low's Autobiography, he received some strongly worded pushback from other newspapers and their readers.

"When Are You Going to Pay This Bill?" in London Opinion, ca. March, 1921

Meanwhile, London (and Paris) were insisting upon steep war indemnity from Germany, and had no patience for Germany's protestations that it couldn't afford to pay. 

"The Island of Yap" by Frederick Opper for Star Publishing, ca. Feb. 16, 1921

William Randolph Hearst and his newspapers were eager for the U.S. to call in debts supposedly owed by the major Entente powers and a smattering of other countries around the world. The issue has nothing to do with dispute between the U.S. and Japan over the Micronesian island of Yap, but that didn't stop Hearst cartoonist Frederick Opper from drawing a series of cartoons in which Yap features prominently in merry songs about how nobody is in a rush to repay loans from Uncle Sam.

(I have to apologize for his characterization of Liberia, which appears in all of Opper's "Island of Yap" cartoons. Crude caricatures of Blacks, and, for that matter, foreigners, were the rule in this era, and nowhere moreso than in Mr. Opper's work.)

"Where He Will Be Waiting for Us" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, March 17, 1921

Not every cartoonist thought that Japan staking a claim on the island of Yap was a joke.

"The Sick Man Sees a Silver Lining" by Fred Morgan in Philadelphia Inquirer, March, 1921

Meanwhile, since the Harding administration wasn't interested in governing a mandate over Armenia, the allies decided to let the Ottomans retain control there, in spite of the Turkish genocide of civilians. Between 1915 and 1923, Turkey literally decimated its Armenian population through deportation, forced conversion to Islam, death marches, and outright execution.

"La Civiltà È Finalmente Nelle Nostre Mani," in Pasquino, Torino, ca. March, 1921

Turkey found a new ally in its former adversary Russia. The Bolsheviks, discarding the Romanovs' concern for defending Christianity south of the Black Sea, shared the Ottomans' interest in subjugating their Armenian citizens.

"Who Will Suffer Most?" by Winsor McCay, December, 1920

Any time there was an uprising somewhere in Russia, cartoonists in the U.S. and elsewhere rushed to their drawing boards to proclaim the imminent demise of the Soviet Socialist Republic. March, 1921 witnessed a flurry of such cartoons. What I find more interesting, however, are cartoons like this one in support of Western capitalists who saw financial opportunity in Communist Russia. Winsor McCay was not the only cartoonist who thought the U.S. was losing a potentially valuable market to other countries (especially Great Britain).

Speaking of the class struggle of the proletariat...

"Polonia ha Ordinato Trecento Aeroplani.." in Pasquino, Torino, ca. February, 1921

I have to respect Cartoon Magazine's translation, awkward as it is, of this cartoon by someone whose signature I can't read. (Why, moreover, does the Italian agitator who doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to the Russian leader have "W. Lenin" tattooed on his belly?)

Translating these cartoons isn't as easy as typing words into Google Translate, and here are a couple of cartoons that exemplify that.

"Die Seindlichen Schwestern" by Oskar Theuer in Ulk, Berlin, March 4, 1921

I include this cartoon as one of the earliest cartoons I have come across featuring the Nazi party — the sister seated on the left of her rival, the Deutsche Volkspartei (German People's Party). Both parties were anti-socialist, no matter what that uncle of yours who watches Fox News all night tells you that Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei means.

The caption on this cartoon doesn't seem to translate well; "Die seindlichen Schwestern" is literally "The Enemy Sisters." For all my searching, "Extratour" seems only to translate to English exactly as it looks. I'm only guessing that Oskar Theuer was making some sarcastic allusion to these "enemy sisters" returning to the dance floor in the final panel.

"Desafinação no Continente" by José Carlos de Brito e Cunha in Careta, Rio de Janeiro, March, 1921

I'm similarly stymied by the last word in this Brazilian cartoon, which may mean goals or ends, or, judging from Tio Sam's left hand, it could be a slang term for money and influence.

At any rate, a border conflict between Panama and Costa Rica over the latter's incursion into Almirante presented the Harding administration with its inaugural foreign crisis. Bound by treaty to protect Panama's sovereignty (and because we had seized the isthmus from Columbia in order to build a canal through it), the U.S. did indeed step in to mediate the conflict, and the matter was settled fairly quickly.

And the Wall Came Tumbling Down

Sovietback Saturday puts aside the works of dead cartoonists this week to dredge up my own stuff from the momentous year 1989. That fall, Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev succeeded in ousting three opponents of his glasnost and perestroika policies from the politburo, and even authorized a new degree of freedom for the state-run press.

in UW-M Post, Milwaukee, Wis., October 19, 1989

All the same, eyebrows were raised around the world when the Soviet news agency TASS reported, in all seriousness, that a three-eyed space alien clad in silver overalls and bronze boots landed in Voronezh and shot a 16-year-old boy with a device that made him disappear for a few minutes. Nor was it the only such story in Soviet media; Komsomolskaya Pravda reported finding a landing field for flying saucers near Perm, and printed a psychic interview with an extraterrestrial from the red star of the constellation of Libra.

Erich Honecker, head of state of East Germany since 1971, had been the communist official in charge of building the Berlin Wall in 1961. As protests in East Germany mounted and refugees from his regime found an escape route through Hungary and Czechoslovakia around his fortified East-West German border, Gorbachev rejected Honecker's pleas for Soviet help crushing dissidents. The 77-year-old Honecker was forced to resign on October 18.

in UW-Parkside Ranger, Somers, Wis., October 26, 1989

The George H.W. Bush administration faced challenges in its own hemisphere: an attempted coup with U.S. backing in Panama failed to overthrow Manuel Noriega, who had voided the results of a fraud-riddled presidential elections in May rather than admit that his candidate had lost.

Through his rise from the Panamanian army, and head of intelligence, to becoming the country's military leader, Noriega had been on the CIA payroll since 1971. He helped fund the right-wing Contras in their civil war against the Nicaraguan government; U.S. intelligence agencies were well aware that drug trafficking was key to Noriega's financial assistance. When U.S. funding of the Contras came to an end after Reagan's Iran-Contra scandal, the Contra insurgency came to an end and so did Noriega's usefulness to the CIA. He was suspected, furthermore, of passing intelligence on to the communist government of Cuba, the Medellin drug cartel, and anyone else who greased his palms.

in UW-M Post, November 9, 1989

The seas would prove no calmer —literally — during the U.S.-U.S.S.R. cruise summit in December.

Earlier posts have dealt with on the Polish situation, but I've given short shrift to what was going on in Hungary, the first country to go communist after World War I and the first country to be invaded by Russia after World War II. Fast forward to 1989, and Hungarian acting President Matyas Szuros publicly described the 1956 uprising as a "national independence movement" and declared that his nation was no longer a "People's Republic," which would certainly have gotten him hauled off to Moscow in chains 33 years earlier. Crowds on the streets jeered at Russian soldiers to go home, yet cheered Moscow's new leader with shouts of "Gorby! Gorby!"

in UW-M Post,  November 14, 1989

Then, in late October, Gorbachev and Foreign Minister Edvard Schevardnadze announced the eventual dismantling of the Warsaw Pact and the end of the Brezhnev doctrine — the U.S.S.R. policy that "when forces hostile to socialism seek to reverse the development of any socialist country whatsoever," the Soviet military would invade and impose the Kremlin's will. In the words of Soviet spokesman Gennadi Gerasimov, "You know the Frank Sinatra song My Way? Hungary and Poland are doing it their way. We now have the Sinatra doctrine."

And on November 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall came down.

in UW-Parkside Ranger, November 16, 1989

I grew up in a world that had the freedom-loving democratic countries of Anglo America, Western Europe, Australia and New Zealand on the one side; and the rigid authoritarian communist countries on the other; and a whole lot of other countries stuck in a tug-of-war between them. There was an eternal state of Cold War, a precarious balancing act which could tumble into instant global annihilation at the slightest misstep anywhere.

As of November 9, 1989, all that changed. We saw a new age of peace and cooperation forged from the remnants of the Iron Curtain. There was talk of the "end of history," whatever that meant. If people in Russia and Eastern Europe had the power to triumph over their oppressive governments, perhaps people everywhere could find that same power.

in UW-M Post, November 30, 1989

P.S.: Speaking of the fall of the Berlin Wall, Tienanmen, and all that, there's a 1991 cartoon of mine on page 368 of this rather formidable tome hot off the presses at Harper Collins in London:

...and in the soon-to-be published German translation from Random House GmbH. (It has been in this blog before, and no doubt will show up again two years hence.)

R.C. Bowman's 1900 Cartoons for Mpls. Tribune, part VII

Here are some cartoons on a variety of world issues by R.C. Bowman, cartoonist for the Minneapolis Tribune in 1900.

Uncle Sam to the Senator: "Ho there! Take that bill in hand, will you? That other fellow seems to be too reckless."
There were two competing ideas on where to build a canal through Central America at this point in history. A rival to the Panama Canal route would have gone through Nicaragua from Bahia de Punta Gorda in the east, to Lake Nicaragua and out to the Pacific.

John Bull: "Heavy? Of course it's heavy. But think of the glory."
Great Britain was in the middle of the Boer War in South Africa at this time.

Looking for his Thanksgiving dinner."
The United States sent warships to occupy Izmir (Smyrna) in order to collect indemnities against Turkey (the Ottoman Empire) for "outrages committed against missionaries." Here's a New York Times article. Keep in mind, this turkey pun was a bit younger back then.

The World: "You know, uncle, it's getting so I do almost all my trading here, now!"
Uncle Sam: "I'm glad to hear it; and to be candid, I'd sooner have your trade than that of any other planet I know of."