Happy Valentoons Day

Our Graphical History Tour has been wrapped up in scandal and death lately, so it's time to lighten up a little bit. Let's check out what love notes the cartoonists had in store for their readers on Valentine's Day 100 years ago, when my grandparents were newlyweds!

"St. Valentine's Day" by A.G. Racey in Montreal Gazette, Feb. 14, 1924

And fortunately for me, they all abstained from the jakeloo new divorce craze sweeping their generation.

"To Our Valentines" by Rube Goldberg for McNaught Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

I don't know what 1920's-ese is for "snark," but Rube Goldberg has plenty of it in his Valentine. It is, however, a wonderful study in fashion styles of the time.

I tried looking up the phrase "the alligator's vest," coming up mostly with advertisements for actual alligator-skin vests, and a zillion posts of the following Dad Joke:

Q. What do you call an alligator in a vest?
A. An investigator!

Let us now get back to the topic at hand. Quickly.

"A Few Valentines We'd Like to Deliver" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., Feb. 14, 1924

Good gosh, such violence! Smith's was not the only "Outbursts of Everett True" sort of Valentines Day cartoon I came across while gathering today's assortment. What on earth had these cartoonists so cranky? Was this really what Valentines Day was all about in the heart of the Roaring '20's?

"The Leap Year Valentine" by Charles H. Kuhn in Indianapolis News, Feb. 14, 1924

American editorial cartoonists must have used up their Sadie Hawkins ideas earlier in the year (see John McCutcheon's and Sam Armstrong's cartoons back in January); Chas. Kuhn's valentine for Mr. Voter from Miss Presidential Year Politics is the sole example I ran across published on February 14 that year.

"Those Coolidge Valentines" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, Feb. 14, 1924

Carey Orr crams a front-page's worth of headline news into his Valentine's Day offering, from Teapot Dome and tax cuts and federal farm aid to dunning European nations in debt to the U.S.

"A Valentine" by Thomas E. Powers for Star Company, Feb. 14, 1924

But enough of politics! Valentine's Day is a day for l'amour (And a famous massacre, but not for a few years yet.)

"Somebody's Valentine" by Magnus Kettner for Western Newspaper Union, Feb. 14, 1924

Leaving politics, scandals, vamps, and divorces behind, many of the Valentines Day cartoons in 1924 celebrated the early pangs of love experienced by pre-teen lotharios. We lead off with the most straight-forward of the bunch, by Magnus Kettner, a well-established cartoonist who supplied his syndicate's mostly rural papers with a choice of political cartoons and homey, nostalgic stuff as this. 

By the way, how strange that Kettner didn't finish drawing the house in the background — only the overhang continues to the right of that tree!

"A St. Valentine's Day We'll Never Forget" by Bob Satterfield for Bonnet Brown Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

Bob Satterfield's work used to appear regularly in these century retrospectives when he drew editorial cartoons; but 1924, he was focusing instead on gag cartoons and strips. The above cartoon was part of his "Days We'll Never Forget" series for Bonnet Brown Syndicate. Before long, he dropped the panel in favor of a strip, "The Family Next Door," which lasted less than two years. 

Bonnet Brown Syndicate would be a casualty of the Great Depression, going bankrupt and out of business in 1933.

"Life's Darkest Moment" by Harold T. Webster for New York Tribune Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

H.T. Webster was considerably more successful with (and dedicated to) his series of panel cartoons, which regularly cycled the themes "Life's Darkest Moment," "The Thrill That Comes Once in a Lifetime," "How to Torture Your Wife/Husband," and "The Timid Soul." For that last one, he created the character Caspar Milquetoast, who was spun off into a very early television series and whose surname entered the English vernacular.

"Gee Whiz Junior" by William Holman for New York Tribune Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

Here's something that has been missing from the last several cartoons: the object of Gee Whiz Jr.'s affection actually has a name!

"Gee Whiz Junior" was one of Bill Holman's many short-lived attempts at creating a comic strip before he eventually hit the big time with Smokey Stover (1935-1972). You young whippersnappers may never have heard of Smokey Stover, but some of you might appreciate that he was the OG Foo Fighter.

I did want to make sure to include the woman's point of view today. Failing to find Valentines Day cartoons by Fay King or Juanita Hamel, here's a woman's point of view of a little boy's point of view:

"'Cap' Stubbs" by Edwina Dumm for George Matthew Adams Service, Feb. 14, 1924

Sticking with the women but returning to the adults' table, Nell Brinkley ends up more interested in expressing some fella's viewpoint than a woman's:

"His Saint Valentine" by Nell Brinkley for International Feature Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

"Saint Valentine was a gentleman," Brinkley begins, "a venerable man, in those gone days when bright St. Valentine's Day used to be taken so seriously that men did battle under their loves' windows... But Bill's Saint of Valentine's Day is a girl. ...

"'I don't believe in men-angels, anyway,' says Bill, as he ties to his offering of dark, fragrant, purple violets, his name with his love and his hope. 'Angels are girls. I know my Saint Valentine is a girl — all girl.'"

"Pop" by Gaar Williams in Chicago Tribune, Feb. 14, 1924

And just like that, we're back to the menfolk. Perhaps this anxious fellow in Gaar Williams's cartoon explains why some of the cartoonists at the top of today's post were in such a foul mood over the holiday.

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King for Chicago Tribune Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

Finally, of special note to classic cartoon fans, Valentines Day 1921 was the day that infant Skeezix was left on Walt Wallet's doorstep, creating a family saga out of a strip that up to then had been entirely devoted to men and their jalopies. Over the years, Skeezix grew up, married, and had children and grandchildren of his own.

Because of the forced homogenization of newspaper comic pages by Gannett, McClatchy, Lee, and the other (aptly named) chains, you probably can't find "Gasoline Alley" in your local newspaper — even the Chicago Tribune doesn't run it any more — but 103-year-old Skeezix and 130-ish Walt are still out there on line.

Pilgrims Digress

I hope you've saved a little room for some more Thanksgiving feast, because I've got some 100-year-old leftovers to serve up today!

"If the Pilgrims Had Started Thanksgiving Day in 1923" by Harold M. Talburt for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., Nov. 29, 1923

Back in 1923, the U.S. celebrated Thanksgiving on the last Thursday of the month, of which there were five that year. Merchants pushing for a longer Christmas Shopping Season™ persuaded Franklin Roosevelt to move Thanksgiving up to the third Thursday of November in 1938, which, however, didn't please many non-merchants. In 1941, FDR pushed it back to the fourth Thursday in November, where it has been ever since.

"We're Thankful" by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Star, Nov. 29, 1923

Tom Foley's gripe about the price of coal was the equivalent of today's complaints about the cost of gas. Coal was an absolute necessity for the heating of nearly every home, and miners' strikes after World War I kept reducing its supply. Gasoline, on the other hand, was cheap and plentiful, and most families could get along just fine with only one car or none at all.

I do like Foley's version of a John Held cartoon character in the third panel. I wonder what their girlfriends thought of the fellows' looks.

Thanksgiving offered cartoonists an opportunity to observe that on the whole, citizens of the United States were better off than many people elsewhere.

"I'd Like to Share with the People Over There" by Wm. C. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, ca, Nov. 29, 1923

Morris didn't specify what "people over there" he had in mind for this cartoon, because they could have been practically anyone anywhere. Hyperinflation in Germany and food shortages in Russia, Ukraine, and elsewhere were well known in the U.S. The devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan should also have been fresh in readers' memories.

Whatever Morris's specific intent was, it allows us to pivot to editorial cartoonists who decided to tie the holiday in with contemporary politics.

"Thanksgiving 1923" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Nov. 29, 1923

The table in 1923 may not have had the overstuffed turkeys Butterball & Co. offer us today, but I still think that there should have been enough white meat back then to satisfy the appetites of three diners. After all, one has got to make room for all that stuffing, sweet potatoes, veggies, corn bread, cranberry sauce, and pie, too.

Maybe I'm missing some interpretation Berryman assumed his readers would make. (I'm pretty sure there's nothing race-related in this cartoon, though.)

"The Pilgrim Fathers Were Not the Only Ones..." by Wm. A Ceperley in Davenport Democrat, Nov. 28, 1923

The new president, Calvin Coolidge, was the overwhelming favorite for the 1924 Republican Party presidential nomination, yet that didn't mean that he was completely unchallenged. Ceperley's cartoon has Cal threatened by Senator Hiram Johnson (R-CA), Congress, and "Blocs" (see Berryman's cartoon above) hiding behind a tree. The 68th Congress had yet to be convene, as the party's Progressive wing was trying to wrest power from the Old Guard in the House of Representatives. 

(Side note: There was a mailing label slapped on top of the Ceperley cartoon in the archives where I found it. I have scribbled in some lines where the label was. I find mailing labels covering part of front page cartoons somewhat often; why couldn't someone have stuck the labels on the newspapers' flags, huh?)

"Won't Talk Turkey" by Dennis McCarthy in Fort Worth Record, Nov. 29, 1923

Dennis McCarthy's cartoon serves as a reminder that WKRP's Arthur Carlson wasn't entirely wrong in thinking that turkeys could fly. They can.

Just not very far.

"Thanksgiving Birds" by Thomas E. Powers for Star Company, ca. Nov. 29, 1923

T.E. Powers offered a three-for-one holiday cartoon. Stinnes in the top panel was German industrialist and newspaper publisher Hugo Stinnes, then also a member of the Reichstag. The middle panel refered to a general income tax cut some U.S. politicians were proposing as an alternative to bonus payments for World War I veterans. And the bottom panel was echoing Dennis McCarthy's warning against Europeans coming after Uncle Sam's turkey.

"A Thanksgiving Controversy" by Guy R. Spencer in Omaha World-Herald, Nov. 29, 1923

Other cartoonists stuck to the tried and true themes of the holiday, such as Guy Spencer reminding his readers that Benjamin Franklin thought the turkey should be the United States' national bird rather than the bald eagle.

Spencer had been drawing editorial cartoons for two decades by this point, so I find it odd that he didn't leave the eagle's head white — the principal distinction between the American symbol and that of Prussia, Austria, Russia, Poland, et al. Bald eagles are not strangers to Nebraska, and had been a staple of editorial cartoons for decades. 

So was this supposed to be a juvenile? A brown eagle? Heck, before reading the dialogue, I thought it was a crow.

A Thanksgiving controversy indeed!

"Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before" by Elmer Bushnell for Central Press Assn., ca. Nov. 28, 1923

The farmer's axe may have come as a surprise to Guy Spencer's tom turkey; Elmer Bushnell's bird lived in mortal dread of it.

"Theory Versus Practice" by Maurice Ketten (Prosper Fiorini) in New York World, Nov. 29, 1923

Meanwhile on the consumer end of things, our great-grandparents fretted about such things as overeating on the holidays. Even if, as we were earlier reminded, children were starving in Europe. 

"Out Our Way" by J.R. Williams for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., Nov. 30, 1923

Children here in America — at least in its cartoons — were sure to get something at the dinner table.

The Willet family in "Out Our Way" wasn't particularly large, so they must have had an awful lot of guests for dinner in 1923 if all that was left for young Willis Willet at the end of the table was the neck.

Either that, or he had been a bad boy that Thanksgiving, pestering Dad for the white meat.

"Out Our Way" was based on J.R. Williams's memories of growing up in small-town America; perhaps it was the future cartoonist who was expected to be thankful for the most difficult-to-eat cut of the Thanksgiving turkey. 

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be.

"Ye Olde Thanksgiving" by Bob Satterfield for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., Nov. 29, 1923

But it's a sure-fire hit for the holidays.

Someday Mein Prince Will Come

"Rough Going" by Grover Page in Louisville Courier-Journal, Nov. 6, 1923

Turning our attention to foreign affairs in November, 1923, we find Germany in danger of splintering apart. A separatist movement in the Rhineland was actively supported by a vindictively hostile France (to the horror of its erstwhile Entente allies). There were Monarchists in Bavaria loyal to Crown Prince Rupprecht, and Socialists in Saxony inspired by Vladimir Lenin.

"The Prodigal's Return" by Grover Page in Louisville Courier-Journal, Nov. 5, 1923

Roiling the Liebfraumilch further, Crown Prince Friedrich, the son of ex-Kaiser Wilhelm II, returned from exile, although his visa was for a Christmas visit only. 

"Life Iss Choost Vun Ting After Anuder" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn, ca. Nov. 26, 1923

German President Ebert fired General Otto von Lossow as commander of the Reichswehr in Bavaria only to have Lossow reappointed by Bavarian dictator Dr. Gustav von Kahr.

in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Nov. 4

Then came the Beer Hall Putsch.

Staatskommissar von Kahr was giving a speech denouncing Marxism at the Bürgerbräu Keller in Munich when General Erich von Ludendorff and an Austrian named Adolph Hitler burst in and took over the bar. Hitler declared himself ruler of Bavaria and Chancellor of Germany.

"Die Gefahren der Münchener Bräuskeller" by Oskar Garvens in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Nov. 18, 1923

Oskar Garvens's cartoon here recalls the socialist Mathäser beerhall putsch of 1918 (also in Munich), and suggests a royalist coup in the not distant future.

"Kicking His Dog Around" by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Star, Nov. 14, 1923

The Bürgerbräu putsch was soon put down — by that same General Lossow whom President Ebert had tried to dismiss. Hitler and Ludendorff were arrested and charged with high treason; Hitler would serve nine months in jail, but Ludendorff was acquitted of all charges.

"The Distress Signal" by Roy James in St. Louis Star, Nov. 10, 1923

I may easily have missed another, but James's "The Distress Signal" is the earliest U.S. editorial cartoon I have come across in which Hitler himself makes an appearance. He showed up in earlier German cartoons of course, and there are earlier American cartoons about Nazism. But if another American cartoonist drew him before this one, I haven't seen it.

"Ein Trost" by Oskar Garvens in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Nov. 11, 1923

We shall use this Garvens cartoon, in which Uncle Sam towers over representatives of France, Japan, Russia, Italy, and an especially diminutive Great Britain, to pivot to a couple other events of note around the world in November.

"My Way Works Better" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, ca. Nov. 13, 1923

The Republic of Turkey was declared on October 29, 1923, bringing the Ottoman Empire to its official end. Field Marshall Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, who was already President of the Assembly, Cabinet, and Popular Party, was named President of the new Republic, without opposition. 

"The Multiple Dictator" by Ernest H. Shepard in Punch, London, Nov. 7, 1923

E.H. Shepard's take on the multitasking President borrows a stanza from "The Yarn of the Nancy Bell" by W.S. Gilbert — ironically, a poem originally rejected by Shepard's publisher because its subject was cannibalism at sea.

"Sittin' Pretty" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Nov. 1, 1923

I still see the occasional flurry of visits to this blog from students studying Philippine history, so here are a couple cartoons updating that topic.

A quarter century after the Spanish-American War, the Philippines remained a territory of the United States of America. Retired Major General Leonard Wood, a good friend of Teddy Roosevelt in the day and credible Republican presidential contender in 1920, was appointed Governor General of Philippines by Warren Harding in 1921.

His was a contentious governorship; he vetoed 16 actions of the Filipino legislature in his first year in office. His reinstating of a fired American police detective in Manila provoked Wood's entire cabinet to resign in July, 1923. His policy aimed at selling publicly owned railroads and agricultural operations to U.S. capitalists, was in stark contrast with the policies of his Democratic predecessor.

"Stay With It, Leonard" by Wm. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, ca. Nov. 9, 1923

I believe, however, that these cartoons concern the Moro rebels on Mindanao and Sulu, an Islamic minority not effectively represented in either the American administration or the Filipino legislature of the time. (I find contemporary newspaper reports in the U.S. referring to the Moro rebels as "pagans," a generic term likely used to describe anything and everything outside of Judeo-Christian religion.) Wood had some experience there as the U.S. Governor of Moro Province from 1903 to 1906.

An Associated Press report of November 26, 1923 charged the Moro uprising was a symptom of generalized Filipino disagreement of General Wood, and perhaps an excuse given by the General and the Coolidge administration to ignore the Philippine legislature's request that Wood be recalled home.

"One defense of the present policy in the Philippines is that the trouble in the islands is all religious, that the Moros will not consent to being governed by Christian governors. ... The fact is, during the World War when American troops were practically withdrawn, and when [Francis] Harrison was Governor General, there was very little in the Philippines that could be twisted into resembling a religious war. But every policy must have its argument in justification."

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Before I sign off: lest one forget on this Veterans' Day:

"Lest You Forget" by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Star, Nov. 10, 1923

"No War for Him, Let's Hope" by Bob Satterfield for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Nov. 10, 1923

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, generation by generation.

Meet the Dingbats

Last Saturday's post looked back on my abortive attempt to add a little character in my editorial cartoons giving postscriptive commentary on the topic of the day. Although I didn't keep it up, such characters are a longstanding tradition that dates back at least to the marginalia in medieval manuscripts, if not to paintings on cave walls.

In editorial cartooning, they're called dingbats, after the typesetters' term for non-alphanumeric characters used for everything from bullet points to paragraph dividers to space filler.

The best known of these in the present day was Puck, the little penguin Pat Oliphant drew at the bottom of his editorial cartoons from his early days Down Under with the Adelaide Advertiser until his retirement in 2015.

"Here I Am, the Last Livin' Person in Ireland..." by Pat Oliphant in Denver Post, ca. Feb. 18, 1973

Puck came into being after a colleague at the Adelaide Advertiser brought a penguin in a paper sack to the newspaper office. The 20-something Oliphant, whose political leanings were well to the left of his editors and the publisher at the Advertiser, began adding Puck to his cartoons as a way of sneaking his true opinions past those editors. By the time they caught onto this device, Puck's popularity with readers ensured that the penguin would continue whether the editors liked it or not.

"Now Is the Time to Save Gas" by Fred Seibel in Richmond Times Dispatch, Feb. 18, 1943

I also mentioned Fred O. Seibel and his crow last week. The crow also had a name, but sources disagree whether it is Moses or Jim. Since I have not been able to track down an origin story for him, I'll leave both names here with the caveat that I found him named Jim in a contemporary source, Moses in an article written long after Seibel had died.

"Alas Poor Yorick" by Fred Seibel in Richmond Times Dispatch, Feb. 18, 1933

Getting his start in upstate New York in 1908, Seibel was the editorial cartoonist at the Richmond (Virginia) Times Dispatch 1926 to 1968. Representing oneself with a crow named Jim would hardly raise an eyebrow at the start of his career; by 1968, and certainly by 2021 when the above-linked article was written, there was nothing quaint or cute about "Jim Crow."

"No Trespassing" by Bob Satterfield for Satterfield Cartoon Service, ca. November, 1914

Bill Rowell might have confused Seibel's crow with Bob Satterfield's bear, whose name was Moses according to Cartoons Magazine. 

The bear's name might also have been Bizzy, however. Satterfield also drew comic strips, including one starting in 1903 starring a bear named Bizzy. A typical episode of the strip, titled "Oh, Thunder," consisted of four square panels showing the bear and perhaps another cartoon animal with a four-line poem. It ran until at least 1933.

Sat's Bear (yet another of its names) was inspired by the popular tale about Teddy Roosevelt declining to kill a bear cub brought to him to shoot at. The incident inspired a famous cartoon by Clifford Berryman, and the more enduring teddy bear dolls. Berryman's bear reappeared once in a while, whereas Satterfield's bruin was a daily constant.

"Advice from One Who Knows" by Bob Satterfield in Detroit Times, ca. July, 1916

 

In 1914, another cartoonist we've featured here from time to time, John Baer, offered Satterfield $1,000 for the rights to use the bear in his cartoons. Satterfield turned down the offer, writing, “He has become an indispensable and highly honored member of our firm, and I assure you that his place could not be successfully filled by anybody else.”

"When Doctors Disagree" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, Dec. 27, 1898

If you've been following my blog long enough, you are familiar with the work of Minneapolis Tribune cartoonist Rowland C. Bowman, and his little dog. 

When Bowman died in 1903 at the age of 32, the Tribune article eulogizing him explained that the dog had originally appeared as one of many characters in a Bowman cartoon celebrating a Minneapolis baseball team winning a pennant. Something about the dog appealed to readers, so Bowman kept bringing it back again and again.

"Castro Thinks the Venezuelan Trouble Is a Fuse" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, Feb. 5, 1903

The dog never had a name as far as I've been able to ascertain, and never spoke a word of dialogue. Occasionally, he would be hidden in the cartoon, peering out from behind a fence for instance, resulting in letters to the editor from readers who couldn't find him, or were proud of themselves that they could.

"Willie Bryan Starts in Early" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, Feb. 18, 1903

A dingbat we met just last month was William K. Patrick's wise-quacking duck.

Patrick's duck originated in the New Orleans Times-Democrat, and when the Times-Democrat merged with the New Orleans Daily Picayune in 1914, the duck took over as the dingbat in charge of reporting the weather. This put the Picayune's weatherfrog out of work after 20 years of faithful service to the Big Easy.

"Meanwhile, the Value of the Eggs" by William K. Patrick in Fort Worth Star Telegram, Feb. 1, 1923

After Patrick left New Orleans for Fort Worth, taking his duck with him, New Orleanians were left with no weathercritter telling them whether to bring an umbrella to work. That is, until 1952, when Times-Picayune editors enlisted Walt Kelly's Pogo to take the job.

The paper's readers, however, would have none of the out-of-state Okeefenokian marsupial, and voted to give the job back to the old frog, who continues his frognostications to this very day.

"What Does His Birthday Mean to You" by Wm. K. Patrick in Fort Worth Star Telegram, Feb. 22, 1923

All of which is a round-about way of telling you that I don't have any interesting tidbits to pass along about the duck itself, save that a whimsical 1918 article in Cartoons Magazine cast Patrick's duck as the colonel in charge of a convocation of cartoon dingbats assembled to pledge their support to the war effort.

in Cartoons Magazine, Chicago, August, 1918

Alas, none of us are including those beloved dingbats in our editorial cartoons any more. (Unless you count Stan Kelly.)

Perhaps that what's ailing our profession these days...

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