Showing posts with label Warren Harding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Warren Harding. Show all posts

Saturday, June 27, 2026

The Recycling Bin of History

Every once in a while, I come across editorial cartoons for these Graphical History Tours that I like, but which don't make the cut for one reason or another.

Which is just to say that there ain't much by way of an overall theme to today's post. And here we go!

"The Grist of War" by Winsor McCay in New York Herald, ca. June 18, 1926

I was all set to include this Winsor McCay cartoon in a recent post about Abd El-Krim's surrender to  colonial French and Spain troops in Morocco, but something just seemed off about it.

Given the timing of its publication, it seems that the cartoon ought to be about the Rif War, but it's curious why the "Militarist" character is drawn with ridiculously exaggerated white lips, in the manner that White cartoonists and minstrel shows of the day portrayed Black people.

German cartoonists in the aftermath of World War I frequently drew African soldiers carrying out French military actions as a way of highlighting African soldiers' presence in France's occupation of the Ruhr region; the cartooning practice was meant to inflame German resentment at being policed by untermenschen.

Was McCay echoing that same racist propaganda here? If so, the cartoon was more likely about French policy against Germany, not France's adventures in Morocco.

"Well, Anyway, a Good Time Was Had By All" by James North in Washington Post, June 4, 1926

Meanwhile, a much-ballyhooed disarmament conference was underway. The French poppinjay in the foreground of James North's cartoon is more representative of how U.S. cartoonists represented France: stiffly waxed goatee and upturned mustache.

"But Isn't It Kind of Dangerous" by Jay N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, June 1, 1926

Here’s a “Ding” Darling cartoon I liked about New York Governor Al Smith’s position on Prohibition. It didn’t quite fit in with my post on spring primary results — Smith was not in a reelection race — and I already had two other Darling cartoons having to do with Iowa’s GOP Senate primary.

I do like to keep an eye out for cartoons featuring the men who were destined to run for president and vice president later on. I shouldn’t need to warn of a spoiler alert when I explain that Smith would be the Democratic presidential nominee in 1928, and it’s not as if the "Happy Warrior" were an obscure pol in 1926. Nor is he largely forgotten today.

Unlike his 1928 running mate.

By the way, I came across this campaign button at a resale store recently. I wonder whether whoever wrote the price sticker was unaware that Franklin Roosevelt was not at the top of the ticket, but was the vice presidential nominee in that 1920 campaign.

"Kompromissflaggen" by Oskar Garvens in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, June 6, 1926

This cartoon suggesting designs various German political parties and interests might have had for the Weimar Republic's flag didn't fit in with recent posts on European affairs. This is an unretouched image from the Heidelberg's on-line archive; besides adding English translations, I would have tried to eliminate the yellowing of the page and to emphasize the black lines.

Perhaps Herr Garvens would have appreciated my coloring in some red on his flags, too, assuming I would be coloring the correct rectangles. My guess is that the red isn't missing because it has faded over time, but rather that it was never there — because Kladderadatsch could only afford black and yellow ink for the cartoons on its inside pages that week.

Finally, it would have been timely, in this week when the Supreme Court floods the zone with a blizzard of rulings like a college student cranking out all his term papers at once, to have put together a post about historic Supreme Court decisions. Sadly, editorial cartoons about the Court are somewhat rare in the 1920's.

"Memories of Dred Scott" by Wilbert Holloway in Pittsburgh Courier, June 5, 1926

Cartoons about the Court do show up in newspapers appealing to a Black audience, however. This Wilbert Holloway cartoon concerns the Supreme Court's decision that it had no jurisdiction to rule in Curtis & Corrigan v. Buckley et al., a case contesting the legality of private contracts restricting the sale of homes to Black persons.

The case made by the bill is this: the parties are citizens of the United States, residing in the District [of Columbia]. The plaintiff and the defendant Corrigan are white persons, and the defendant Curtis is a person of the negro race. In 1921, thirty white persons, including the plaintiff and the defendant Corrigan, owning twenty-five parcels of land, improved by dwelling houses, situated on S Street, between 18th and New Hampshire Avenue, in the City of Washington, executed an indenture, duly recorded, in which they recited that, for their mutual benefit and the best interests of the neighborhood comprising these properties, they mutually covenanted and agreed that no part of these properties should ever be used or occupied by, or sold, leased or given to, any person of the negro race or blood, and that this covenant should run with the land and bind their respective heirs and assigns for twenty-one years from and after its date.

Justice Edward T. Sanford delivered the Court's decision that the 5th, 13th, and 14th Amendments to the Constitution did not apply to private contracts. Sanford, a Harding appointee from Tennessee, was a friend and protegĂ© of Chief Justice William Howard Taft. Like Taft a conservative jurist, his earlier majority opinion in Gitlow v. New York ironically established precedent for the liberal Warren Court's decisions expanding civil rights. 

Saturday, January 31, 2026

...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.

Saturday, July 29, 2023

Let Us Sit Upon the Ground and Tell Sad Stories

It will not come as a surprise to you, dear reader, as it did to newspaper readers across the United States, that President Warren Gamaliel Harding died on August 2, 1923 in San Francisco, California, while on an ambitious speaking tour.

Unsigned (O.C. Chopin?) in San Francisco Examiner, August 3, 1923

Editorial cartoonists around the country (but not all of them) rushed to their drawing boards in an effort to express the nation's grief. 

Your humble blogger has observed before that the cartoon character of Miss Columbia used to be the one drawn to mark a time of mourning, notably after the deaths of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley. This was still the case in 1923...

"A Nation Bowed in Grief," unsigned, in San Francisco Chronicle, August 3, 1923

"One in Sorrow and Faith" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, August 4, 1923

No caption, by Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Evening Star, August 3, 1923

...but upon the death of President Harding, Uncle Sam appeared in several cartoonists' work.

No caption, by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, August 4, 1923

"One Touch of Sorrow Makes Us Kin" by J.P. Alley in Memphis Commercial Appeal, August 5, 1923

"On the shores of the Pacific," Unsigned (McCutcheon?) in Chicago Tribune, August 4, 1923

"He Has Found Eternal Peace" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 4, 1923

No caption, by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Star, August 4, 1923
"For Grief Is Proud and Makes His Owner Stoop" by Roy James in St. Louis Star, August 4, 1923

Uncle Sam had also appeared to pay his respects upon the death of Teddy Roosevelt in 1919, the distinction at that time being that Roosevelt was no longer in office, and the most memorable cartoons centered on the larger-than-life former president himself. No cartoon in this collection rivals "Ding" Darling's "The Long, Long Trail" eulogizing Roosevelt.

Harold Wahl, eschewing any national symbol, may have been trying to make a more universal statement. Or perhaps he just a bit more macabre than everybody else.

"In Death as in Life" by Harold Wahl in Sacramento Bee, August 4, 1923

I mentioned that not all cartoonists drew eulogy cartoons. Syndicated ones such as Dorman Smith would have found little market for a weepy cartoon that might not be published by some newspapers until several days later. Others, such as the Louisville Courier Journal's Grover Page and Daniel Fitzpatrick the St. Louis Post Dispatch simply decided to let Harding's death pass unremarked for their own reasons.

And then there is the approach of Frank Spangler, who packed a reference to Harding's passing (an arm band, and a train carrying the body of our 30th president) into a cartoon about a French general coming to town to Montgomery to honor local war veterans.

"Arms and the Men" by Frank "Spang" Spangler in Montgomery Advertiser, August 4, 1923

If Miss Columbia still held onto her job as Mourner-In-Chief, it was now Uncle Sam who greeted the new chief executive.

"The New Helmsman" by Oscar C. Chopin in San Francisco Examiner, August 6, 1923

"Carrying On" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, August 4, 1923
"Let Us Work Together" by Harold Wahl in Sacramento Bee, August 6, 1923


"To New Shoulders" by Lute Pease in Newark Daily News, August, 1923

Fasces would fall out of fashion as a symbol of "responsibility of great power" after the outbreak of World War II, although you will still find them in some of our most famous presidential monuments.

McCutcheon in Chicago Sunday Tribune, August 5, 1923
"May He Choose Well His Course" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, August 6, 1923

Okay, perhaps not quite everybody got the Uncle Sam memo.

Meanwhile, August 10 was declared the official day of mourning, but editorial cartoonists had to do what editorial cartoonists do in the days following the transition to a new administration.

"His Last Message..." by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, August 5, 1923

I imagine that Darling may have had this cartoon on his drawing board before news came of Harding's death, and that he decided to tweak the caption and send it along to his publishers anyway. Harding may have appreciated leaving the World Court as his lasting legacy — or bringing peace to the Pacific as cited in the unsigned Chicago Tribune cartoon above — but history has decided otherwise.

Kind of like remembering Richard Nixon for creating the Environmental Protection Agency.

"Close the Fatal Road" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 5, 1923

Nelson Harding's call to stop presidents from national speaking tours wouldn't get much traction, even though the new president had a reputation for not speaking out much.

"Nary a Word" by William C. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, August, 1923

Indeed, I don't believe I have run across a single cartoon about Coolidge by anyone between the 1920 Republican national convention and August 4, 1923.

Saturday, July 15, 2023

Tales from the North

Continuing last Saturday's Graphical History Tour, we've got some century-late-breaking news out of Minnesota!

In a special election to fill the U.S. Senate seat of the late Cushman Davis, Minnesota elected Farmer-Labor candidate Magnus Johnson.

"Way Up in Alaska" by Harold J. Wahl in Sacramento Bee, July 19, 1923

The Senate seat won by Johnson had been held by Republicans since 1859. Fellow Farmer-Laborite Henrik Shipstead had been elected to Minnesota's other Senate seat in 1922 — a seat that had been held by Republicans almost as long, except for Charles Towne's 54-day term in 1900-1901.

"I've Seen 'Em Come..." by Edward Gale in Los Angeles Times, July 19, 1923

Edward Gale's Third Party Graveyard fails to include the Prohibition Party. By 1923, the Prohibition Party's principal campaign plank had been hammered by both major political parties into the U.S. Constitution. (That the 18th Amendment would eventually be negated by the 21st was still a decade into the future.)

The Greenback and Populist Party platforms of looser monetary policy and abandonment of the gold standard would eventually be adopted and passed by the Progressives and Democrats. This is how third parties' success is truly measured: do their issues become adopted by either or both the Democrats or Republicans?

"Some Consolation for the GOP" by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, July 19, 1923

Where Gale gets it wrong is that the Farmer-Labor Party was not the "third" party in the Minnesota Senate race. John McCutcheon correctly notes that the Democratic Party was scarcely a factor. Johnson won the election with a commanding 57.48% of the vote to Republican Governor Jacob Preuss's 38.69%. Democrat James Carley was sent home with a measly 3.83% of votes cast.

"Powerful Katrinka Loses Her Composure" by Harold Talburt for Scripps-Howard Newspapers, before July 26, 1923

The Farmer-Labor Party and the Democrats would eventually join forces in 1944, strengthening both. Minnesota's DFL is one of only two affiliates of the Democratic Party with a name different from the national party. (North Dakota's Democratic-Nonpartisan League is the other.)

Your humble blogger provided the backstory on Fontaine Fox's Powerful Katrinka back in April.

Alaska Daily Empire, July 10, 1923

Meanwhile, President Harding was on his western non-campaign swing, making the first presidential visit ever to Alaska before heading south again. 

"Cinderella and the Golden Galoshes" by Edward Gale in Los Angeles Times, July 12, 1923

His plans were to visit Vancouver, Canada and several cities on the U.S. west coast before sailing down to the Panama Canal and stopping at Puerto Rico on the way back to Washington, D.C.

"Somewhere in Alaska" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 16, 1923

Daniel Fitzpatrick, drawing from a city Harding had already left, used the occasion to accuse administration foreign policy as being adrift; but cartoonists in cities still on the president's itinerary rolled out the welcome mat. 

"Getting Ready for the President" by Frank Kettlewell in Oakland Tribune, July 23, 1923

I see a lot of similar editorial cartoons in this period — especially in summer months — welcoming visiting conventions of all kinds to town. Even the best and brightest pens and grease pencils of the day would let the Shriners and Tulip Fancier Society know how thrilled they were to play host to them.

"Just Watch Our Smoke" by O.C. Chopin in San Francisco Examiner, July 28, 1923

But Florence Harding took ill in Alaska, and her husband experienced abdominal pain after rushing through a speech at Washington State University. His doctors diagnosed recurrence of a previous heart problem, but falsely reported to the public that it was ptomaine poisoning due to copper-tainted clams.

Harding cancelled a stop in Portland, Oregon, arriving by train in San Francisco on July 29. Although he was visibly exhausted, he insisted on walking from the train to the car that took him to the Palace Hotel. The official announcement was that he was expected to fully recover and complete the trip.

But the next day, it was reported that Harding had developed pneumonia, and his condition was pronounced "grave."

"Renominate the President" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, July 31, 1923

The Chronicle nevertheless ran this Bronstrup cartoon on July 31 alongside an editorial in moderately large print advocating a second Harding term. A second editorial, below the first and in regular type, acknowledged Harding's illness and regretted that he was unable to complete his San Francisco event schedule.

I have to wonder whether Bronstrup drew this portrait in case the worst were to come to pass by the newspaper's deadline. It's rather dark for an All Hail! cartoon

On the other hand, the sketch by R. H. Sommer (obviously drawn from the same photograph) on the front page of the Alaska Empire three weeks earlier is similarly dark, and that was published while, as far as the public knew, Harding was in perfect health.

Saturday, July 8, 2023

Was There a Ford in Their Future?

In today's thrilling episode of our Graphical History Tour, we catch up on jockeying in the 1924 presidential race:

"His Hat Is All Over the Ring" by J.T. Alley in Memphis Commercial Appeal, July 10, 1923

As far as the pundits were concerned, President Warren Harding was a shoo-in for the Republican Party's nomination for a second term. The economy was doing well (at least for Wall Street), the nation was at peace (even if other parts of the world weren't), and that Spanish flu epidemic was a distant memory. Heck, even Pancho Villa turned up dead (for reals this time).

"Hunting the Wild Redbird" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, July 18, 1923

Senator Robert LaFollette (R-WI) was actively considering a challenge to Harding, but on the Progressive Party ticket. "Ding" Darling had been skeptical of Harding's candidacy in 1920, but he was even less favorable to LaFollette, who was campaigning against the Republican Party candidate for Minnesota's open senate seat in favor of the Farmer-Labor candidate there.

"Oh Bill look Were I Got to in One" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in New York Tribune, ca. July 13, 1923

Outcome of the Democratic race at this point was anybody's guess. Dealt a resounding defeat in the 1920 presidential race, and being in the minority in Congress since the 1918 elections, the party was without a natural leader to succeed Woodrow Wilson, sidelined by the strokes he suffered in the last years of his presidency.

"1924 Model" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 13, 1923

One possibility getting a lot of attention in the summer of 1923 was whether Henry Ford would run for president — and if so, for which party's nomination.

"Knitting Is Fine for the Nerves" by Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Evening Star, July 10, 1923

Although there was talk of Ford mounting a third-party bid, the Democratic Party would have seemed to be Ford's more logical choice. Three-time loser William Jennings Bryan, in the foreground of Berryman's cartoon, was an unlikely candidate but still wielded considerable influence within the party over a quarter century after his first run.

The other knitters in Berryman's cartoon are the Democrats' 1920 standard-bearer, James Cox; Woodrow Wilson's son-in-law William MacAdoo; Alabama Senator Oscar Underwood; and Indiana Senator Samuel Ralston. Curiously absent is New York Governor Al Smith; but none of these gentlemen would end up as the Democrats' presidential nominee in 1924 anyway.

""My Isn't the Scenery Simply Wonderful This Year" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Colliers, July 7, 1923

"Ding" Darling here depicts neither major political party as being particularly interested in having Henry Ford as its standard bearer. The Ford for President "boom," as such movements were called, was primarily a creation of the Hearst newspaper chain.

"A Mixed Load" by Roy H. James in St. Louis Star, July 16, 1923

James illustrates the primary drawbacks of a Ford candidacy. His anti-Jewish attitude was offensive to some Americans; others may have found it embarrassing that he was saying the quiet part out loud. 

Ford published frequent antisemitic editorials in the newspaper he had bought, the Dearborn Independent, blaming a vast conspiracy of Jews for everything wrong with the world from jazz to baseball. Ford dealerships were required to carry the Dearborn Independent, and a four-volume collection of his editorials in booklet form, The International Jew: The World's Foremost Problem, was translated into 16 languages for sale in the U.S. and Europe.

The Peace Ship was a widely derided voyage of pacifists Ford had organized in 1915 in an effort to head off World War I. It did not have the support of the Wilson administration, and its idealistic crew met with no European officials of any consequence.

"A Few Points to Be Considered" by Harold J. Wahl in Sacramento Bee, July 9, 1923

Henry Ford had used his influence with the Department of War to keep his son Edsel, then in his 20's, out of military service during World War I. Biographers now believe that Edsel would have preferred to enlist, and was acutely embarrassed that his father's connections held him up to scorn and ridicule as a symbol of unfair privilege. Thus, during World War II, Edsel made doubly sure that his car company was fully committed to the wartime production effort.

The "History is bunk" tack in Harold Wahl's cartoon refers to an interview with the Chicago Tribune in 1916 in which Henry Ford said, 

"History is more or less bunk. It is tradition. We don’t want tradition. We want to live in the present and the only history that is worth a tinker’s dam is the history we make today. That’s the trouble with the world. We’re living in books and history and tradition. We want to get away from that and take care of today. We’ve done too much looking back. What we want to do and do it quick is to make just history right now."

That comment was in the "Chicago Tribune exposĂ©," which had revealed Ford to be a shallow-minded, incurious blowhard who literally did not know British author Arnold Bennett from American turncoat Benedict Arnold. Ford had successfully sued the Tribune for libel over its reporting, for which he was awarded six cents in damages. 

No wonder he hated history.

Said the Tribune regarding his possible 1924 candidacy, "What makes him impossible is that he lacks any sense of his limitations. If a man is both ignorant and ignorant of his ignorance, he is not one to be put in any place of responsibility."

If Henry Ford reminds you of any presidential candidate today, that's the true value of history. But at least Henry Ford had a son with some redeeming social qualities.

Ah, well. I suppose there's yet still some hope for Barron.