Read Ebook: Abraham Lincoln and the London Punch Cartoons Comments and Poems Published in the London Charivari During the American Civil War (1861-1865) by Walsh William S Editor
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Ebook has 143 lines and 15988 words, and 3 pages
"What next now I wonder, Captain?" Answer CAPTAIN SKIPPER made, "Well Ma'am, our next move, I fancy, will be breaking their blockade." "Blockhead! Ah!" exclaimed the lady. "Truer word was never spoken. Drat the blockheads, all says I; may every head on 'em be broken!"
The other is a bit of broad fun, in mockery of the profuse volumes of smoke and sound which were emitted by Yankee fire-eaters.
A VOICE FROM WASHINGTON
We Yankees ain't given to brag; JOHN BULL, we expect, has no notion Of going to war; but his flag If he does, we shall sweep from the ocean And when the old vagabond lies In a state of teetotal prostration, Old Ireland in glory will rise, Independence to win as a nation.
Our breadstuffs from England kept back, The sequel must be destitution. Her famishing millions, in lack Of food, will force on revolution. VICTORIA will have to retire; Aristocracy, friends of Secession, Will be hurled down, and trod in the mire; No more for to practise oppression.
Want money? I reckon not we; A national debt we'll create, Twice as heavy as yourn, which will be, For SAMSONS like we air, no weight. On Government bonds we shall borrow Any money in Europe with ease. Why London and Paris, to-morrow Will lend us as much as we please.
Foreign goods we shall purchase with paper, Which let foreign usurers hold; The British may swagger and vapour, At home whilst we keep all our gold. As BELMONT to SEWARD has written, Any stock may in Europe be "placed," And the chance, if the ROTHSCHILDS ain't bitten, Will be by the BARINGS embraced.
We've twice before whipped all creation, We've now got to whip it again. We air a remarkable nation Of modest, but resolute men. JOHN BULL, then, allow us to kick you, And don't go resenting the act, Or into a cocked hat we'll lick you, Yes, Sir-ree, you old hoss, that's a fact.
The manly and tactful apology which represented the feeling of the better sort of folk in America, and which was wrung from a reluctant cabinet by Abraham Lincoln, softened for a moment the asperity of our old antagonist. The following rather amiable verses were written in anticipation of the amicable settlement which already , seemed probable:
A FAIR OFFER FROM JOHN BULL TO MISS COLUMBIA
Shall we kiss and be friends? Why not? Sister COLUMBIA, No more ugly faces let you and me pull; Though we both have our tempers, our worries and troubles, Let "bygones be bygones" for me, says JOHN BULL.
Fools may sneer and call family feelings all humbug, But I feel that one blood in the veins of us flows: Our tongues are the same, though I don't like your fashion Of talking, through the nose.
When I vowed that I'd tame you, and make you knock under, And you dared me and bit, like a vixen as well; I did think by this time we had both seen our blunder; Meant to live as good friends and in peace buy and sell.
I can stand a great deal from my own blood-relations, And I know that your troubles your temper have soured; But I can't take a blow, in the face of all nations, And consent to see law by brute force overpowered.
The gorilla-like caricature of Lincoln's features makes its first appearance in a cartoon wherein this repulsive face is joined to a raccoon's body.
The "coon" is shown up a tree, Colonel Bull, standing below, has drawn a bead on him with his gun.
"Air you in earnest, Colonel?" asks the coon.
"I am," replies the mighty Bull.
"Don't fire," says the coon, "I'll come down."
THE AMERICAN CHESS-PLAYERS
Although of conquest Yankee North despairs, His brain for some expedient wild he racks, And thinks that having failed on the white squares, He can't do worse by moving on the Blacks.
Under the heading "One Good Turn Deserves Another," Old Abe is shown extending musket, sword and knapsack to a negro who refuses to be cajoled by his honeyed words.
"Why I do declare," says Abe, "it's my dear old friend, Sambo! Course you'll fight for us, Sambo. Lend us a hand, old hoss, do."
The same jibe finds vent in the following poems:
ABE'S LAST CARD; OR, ROUGE-ET-NOIR
When luck's desperate, desperate venture Still may bring it back: So I'll chance it--neck or nothing-- Here I lead THE BLACK! If I win, the South must pay for't, Pay in fire and gore: If I lose, I'm ne'er a dollar Worse off than before.
From the Slaves of Southern rebels Thus I strike the chain: But the slaves of loyal owners Still shall slaves remain. If their owners like to wop 'em, They to wop are masters; Or if they prefer to swop 'em, Here are our shin-plasters!
There! If that 'ere Proclamation Does its holy work, Rebeldom's annihilation It did oughter work: Back to Union, and you're welcome Each to wop his nigger: If not, at White let slip darky-- Guess I call that vigour!
In September, 1862, the two combatants are represented as sinking exhausted into the arms of negro backers, who are vainly attempting to put them on their feet. In the background stands a self-important eagle arrayed in the Napoleonic uniform and a biped lion dressed in a sack coat and an air of conscious superiority.
Says the eagle to the lion, "Don't you think we ought to fetch the police?"
The legend under the cartoon runs, "Not Up to Time, or Interference Would Be Very Welcome."
In May of 1863 a cartoon entitled "The Great Cannon Game" shows Abe Lincoln playing billiards with Jeff Davis. It is the latter's shot.
"Hurrah for Charleston!" he cries; "that's another to me."
Abe Lincoln mutters in an aside, "Darned if he ain't scored ag'in! I wish I could make a few winning hazards for a change."
An accompanying article entitled "The Great American Billiard Match" is amusing enough when read to-day in the light of the great "winning hazards" that were to be made by Abe within less than sixty days.
"Considerable excitement," it runs, "has been caused in sporting circles by this long protracted match, which, owing to the style of play adopted by the parties, appears to make but very little progress toward a finish. The largeness of the stakes depending on the contest might be supposed to make the players careful in their strokes, but few expected that the game would last so long as it has done, and no one now dare prophesy when it will be finished. It having been resolved to play the cannon game, some anxiety at first was not unreasonably felt among the backers of Jeff Davis, the crack player for the South; but the knowing ones, who knew their man, made no attempt to hedge, notwithstanding what was said about his being out of play and, in the cannon game especially, somewhat overmatched. It is needless to remark here that the first strokes which he made quite justified their confidence, and, indeed, throughout the game he has done nothing yet to shake it, so that if he have but a fair amount of luck, his backers feel assured that he won't easily be beaten, and an extra fluke or two might make him win the match.
"As for old Abe Lincoln, the champion player of the North, his backers, we believe, are as confident as ever that he is the best man, although at times his play has not appeared to prove it. There is no doubt that he has more strength at his command, but strength is of small use without knowing how to use it. Abe Lincoln may have skill, but he has not yet shown much of it; and certainly he more than once has shown himself outgeneralled. His backers say he purposely is playing a slow game, just to draw out his opponent and see what he can do. In ninety days, they say, he is cocksure of a victory, but this is an old boast, and nobody except themselves now places any faith in it. Abe's famous Bull Run stroke was a bad start to begin with, and his Charleston break has ended in his having to screw back, and thus slip into balk to save himself from mischief.
How the game will end we won't pretend to prophesy. There are plenty of good judges, who still appear inclined to bet in favor of the South and longish odds are offered that the game will be a drawn one. Abe's attempt to pot the niggers some put down as a foul stroke, but whether foul or not, it added little to his score. Upon the whole we think his play has not been much admired, although his backers have been vehement in superlatively praising it. There is more sympathy for the South, as being the weaker side--a fact which Jeff's supporters indignantly deny, and which certainly the North has not done much as yet toward proving. Without ourselves inclining one way or the other, we may express a neutral hope that the best player may win; and we certainly shall echo the desire of all who watch the game if we add that the sooner it is now played out the better."
The boasted "neutrality" was put to a rather severe test when, in less than "ninety days," the victory of which Abe's backers were "cock sure" proved a double barrelled one at Vicksburg, in Mississippi, and at Gettysburg, in Pennsylvania. The news of these tremendous events set all the Federal States of America shouting with triumph on the succeeding Fourth of July. There were no international cables in those days. Consequently it was not until two weeks later that the news reached England.
"There is something peculiarly graceful," , "in celebrating Independence Day in London. 'The Britishers whipped all the world and we whipped the Britishers,' used to be the established formula of Yankee self-glorification. It is the Yankees' belief that they accomplished their secession from England by simple conquest; triumphant superiority in arms. To hold the anniversary of successful insurrection, not to say rebellion, in the very den of the British lion, treading on his tail and gently poking him with a playful boot tip, is to compliment that noble animal with credit for some magnanimity. The British residents in Paris would hardly have the confiding generosity and the taste in like manner to celebrate the return day of the Battle of Waterloo in the French capital.
"We pause here to ask whether the Confederates do not, as they reasonably may, repeat the Yankee boast above quoted with brag additional? Have they not begun to say, 'The Britishers whipped all the world, the Yankees whipped the Britishers and we whipped the Yankees'? Not yet, perhaps. Averse to indulgence in premature exultation, they may reserve that saying for Independence Day No. 2."
The answer came in the form of a thunderous negative with the next mail from America.
Brutus--Wall, now, do tell! Who's you?
Caesar--I am dy ebil genius, massa LINKING. Dis child am awful Inimpressional.
In October appeared a cartoon headed with unconscious satire, "John Bull's Neutrality." John Bull standing with his arms akimbo in the doorway of his shop is glaring defiantly at two bad boys, clad respectively in federal and in confederate uniforms, who slink away before his glance and drop the stones they were preparing to hurl at his windows.
"Look here, boys," says John, "I don't care twopence for your noise, but if you throw stones at my windows I must thrash you both."
The same moral is enforced in the following poem:--
MR. BULL TO HIS AMERICAN BULLIES
Hoy, I say you two there, kicking Up that row before my shop! Do you want a good sound licking Both? If not, you'd better stop. Peg away at one another, If you choose such fools to be: But leave me alone; don't bother, Bullyrag and worry me!
You North, roaring, raving, yelling, Hold your jaw, you booby, do; What, d'ye threaten me for selling Arms to South, as well as you? South, at me don't bawl and bellow, That won't make me take your part; So you just be off, young fellow: Now, you noisy chap, too, start!
To be called names 'tis unpleasant; Words, however, break no bones: I control myself at present; But beware of throwing stones! I won't have my windows broken, Mind, you brawlers, what I say, See this stick, a striking token; Cut your own, or civil stay.
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