Text: William Henry Gravely, Jr., “Chapter 10,” The Early Political and Literary Career of Thomas Dunn English Story, dissertation, 1953 (This material is protected by copyright)


∞∞∞∞∞∞∞


[page 671:]

CHAPTER X

Final Years as a Resident of Philadelphia — O, Motley Tom!

After the adjournment of the second session Of the Twenty-ninth Congress on March 1847, English again became a resident of Philadelphia. Why he returned to his native city is uncertain, but he may have done so because of the failing health of his father. Since the records of the Custom House in Philadelphia reveal that one John Dallam was nominated on June 21, 1845, to replace Robert S. English as inspector,(1) it is not unlikely that the disease to which the elder English was shortly to succumb had become serious enough by that date to force him to relinquish the inspectorship. It is possible, of course, but highly improbable in view of his son's standing with President Polk, that Robert English was a victim of the widespread political proscription which had already been the lot of a great many officials who had owed their appointments to the preceding Administration. At any rate, on April 2, l847 — less than two years after he had been replaced as an Inspector of customs and less than a month after his son's brief sojourn in Washington had come to an end — Robert English died of pulmonary tuberculosis at the age of fifty.(2) [page 672:]

English's activities during the remainder of the year 1847 are exceedingly obscure. Since he evidently wrote little, he may have been passing through a period of poor health himself. According to his son-in-law, Arthur H. Noll, he was compelled “to withdraw somewhat from public life” in 1848 for this very reason.(3) Also, according to Noll, “there was a tradition in the family that he was threatened with consumption” about that time.(4) But inasmuch as English seems to have been unusually active in a literary way during 1848, it is possible that Noll misdated the period of his father-in-law's ill-health and that it actually fell during the nonproductive months of the preceding year. Admittedly, such a supposition is mere conjecture, but it is not an unreasonable one in view of Noll's tendency to err not only in recording dates, but also in presenting other factual material relating to English's life.

Although English produced little creative work in 1847, the year is by no means an unimportant one in the history of his varied life. Before it came to an end, his first and second novels — originally published in serial form during 1845 and 1846, respectively — had appeared as books.(5) The same year also marked the beginning of the extraordinarily long-lived vogue of “Ben Bolt” as a popular song. Notwithstanding its general appeal as a poem, “Ben Bolt” had not [page 673:] previously achieved a popularity In any way comparable to that which it attained after Nelson Kneass adapted it, in the spring of 1847, to the melody with which it has ever since been most frequently coupled. True, English received little immediate acclaim in the wake of this popularity; but the many controversies which followed concerning the authorship of the poem invariably brought his name to the fore and thereby eventually caused it to be permanently associated with the poem in the minds of a great many persons who would have otherwise remained ignorant of, or indifferent to, the identity of the author.

It has been pointed out in Chapter VII of the present study that English's imperfect knowledge of the history of “Ben Bolt” is responsible for numerous factual errors that have heretofore appeared in all detailed accounts purporting to give the true story of the poem. Especially have the writers of these accounts tended to err when they have undertaken to explain how the poem became inseparably linked with the name of Nelson Kneass. Inasmuch as English was also chiefly to blame for the widespread misinformation concerning this particular relationship, let us first hear what he himself had to say about the matter and then proceed to check his story for accuracy. According to William Southworth Hunt, who knew the author of “Ben Bolt” near the end of the latter's life, English got the facts of his story firsthand from Kneass when, on one occasion in New York, the two chanced to meet for the first and only time, a number of years [page 674:] after Kneass had set the poem to music.(6) But regardless of how English came by his information, the following account is far from being reliable:

In 1846 Charles Porter was running the Pittsburgh National Theatre, and some local playwright got up for him a piece called “The Battle of Buena Vista.” There was at that time in the company a young man named Nelson F. Kneass, a brother of the United States District Attorney at Philadelphia. It was much to the annoyance of his family that Nelson F. Kneass had eschewed law and serious pursuits and drifted into a minstrel troupe and thence into Porter's Theatre. He had considerable taste for music, possessed a sweet tenor voice of rather weak timbre, and managed it with some skill, but was a very indifferent actor; and Porter was about to drop him from the pay roll, when it was suggested that if he could produce a song to be rendered whenever (if such a happy occasion should arise) the play should be favored by a good-natured audience with a curtain call, he might be retained. A hanger-on of the theatre, an Englishman named Hunt, suggested “Ben Bolt” having read the lines in an English newspaper. Kneass took three of the verses and some liberties with the words in adapting each to the other, and these and a German air which he knew; and sang the song in a way to receive popular favor. Lee and Walker, of Philadelphia, paid Kneass a trifling amount for his rights in the song, and published the air along with the words sometime between 1848 and 1852. Kneass became dissipated and died in a small town in the middle west where he had been stranded by the failure of a company to which he was attached. It was the most melancholy ending of a harmless life.

The publishers of the song and music are said to have netted sixty thousand dollars from it, but I never received a penny for the production. I have no right to complain of this, for I gave the lines voluntarily to Willis. But I have been inclined to resent alterations in some of the lines by prudes who have pretended to be shocked at the indecency of school-children going to swim; and who have no conception of a school master “cruel and grim. “ For the heroine of the song was a real character, as was the school teacher “cruel and grim” indeed, as I well remember him; and the scene of the song, with [page 675:] Its old mill and school house, was an actual locality and not the creation of my fancy.(7)

Not only does the foregoing narrative perpetuate those errors which may also be found in earlier accounts written either by English himself or on the basis of information furnished by him, but it evinces a tendency on the part of an old man to draw even farther away from the actual facts. In the account published in Harper's Weekly in 1894, for instance, Kneass is described as having had “a rather fine tenor voice,”(8) but nothing is said about its having been “of rather weak timbre.” Moreover, in the earlier account nothing is said about Porter's having been on the verge of “dropping” Kneass “from the pay roll,” nor is it implied that this humiliating eventuality was forestalled only at the last moment by the sudden change of fortune which Kneass experienced from the moment that he first sang “Ben Bolt.” Again, it is stated in the earlier account that more than “60,000 copies of the music were sold by Peters, who published it.”(9) Yet in the later account, we find English saying that Lee and Walker, of Philadelphia, published the song “sometime between 1848 and 1852” and that the publishers were “said to have netted sixty thousand dollars from it.” The later account is clearly the garbled one. Kneass's air was first published around 1848 by Peters and Company of [page 676:] Louisville and Cincinnati.(10) In 1852, Lee and Walker, of Philadelphia, published the original German air, but the arranger was J. A. Getze — not Kneass.(11) Furthermore, the statement in the later account that the publishers were “said to have netted sixty thousand dollars” can hardly be reconciled with the earlier statement that more than “60,000 copies of the music were sold.” Yet the fact that the figures are identical suggests that the later statement is a garbled alteration of the earlier one. Finally, the later account conveys the impression that Kneass was primarily responsible for altering the lines of “Ben Bolt” before he set the poem to music, whereas all other earlier accounts attribute the main alterations to Hunt. Admittedly, of course, Kneass probably had to make further changes of his own before he could make use of Hunt's garbled version. When a frequently repeated story gathers additional details like these, one has every reason to suspect the trustworthiness of the accretions. It is quite probable that they will be found to reflect either the faulty efforts of the raconteur to bridge the gaps in a hazy memory or else the very human tendency on his part to add color to a story of widespread popular interest even if he has to distort the facts somewhat in order to do so. [page 677:]

But aside from these exceedingly dubious accretions which any story is likely to accumulate if retold frequently enough and over a sufficiently long period of time, there are some errors which this particular narrative seems to have contained from the beginning. The most obvious of these errors is the careless statement that 1846 was the year in which Kneass first sang “Ben Bolt” during a performance of a play entitled The Battle of Buena Vista and produced at Porter's Theatre in Pittsburgh. Inasmuch as the Battle of Buena Vista was not even fought until February 22 and 25, 1847, and since the victory which Zachary Taylor gained over Santa Anna's for larger force is one of the most memorable of the Mexican War, it is indeed strange that this error should have remained so long uncorrected and that it should have been repeated again and again. Neither Carl F. Schreiber, in his biographical sketch of English in the Dictionary of American Biography,(12) nor William Southworth Hunt, in his interesting article entitled “The Story of a Song,”(13) repeated this identical mistake; but, in seeking to correct it, they both mistakenly substituted the year 1848 for the obviously incorrect one of 1846 — evidently on the assumption that Kneass probably set “Ben Bolt” to music during the year in which his composition was first published. A thorough examination, however, of one of the daily newspapers published in Pittsburgh during 1847 would have revealed that [page 678:] The Battle of Buena Vista was performed at Porter's Pittsburgh Theatre on the evenings of April 30 and May 1 of that year and that Kneass was cast in the rôle of Colonel Clay.(14) About a month later, a newspaper commentator made the following observation in calling attention to the “large and fashionable audiences” that were being drawn nightly to Andrews'saloon in Pittsburgh: “it is worth a visit there any evening to hear Mr. Kneass sing ‘Ben Bolt.’”(15)

English was responsible for at least two other statements in his narrative which will hardly stand the test of close scrutiny. The first of these is his assertion that Kneass was a member of Porter's company when he was asked to introduce a new song during a performance of The Battle of Buena Vista. The second is that the “Englishman named Hunt” who suggested “Ben Bolt” to Kneass was a “hanger-on” of Porter's Theatre. The implication clearly is that for a while, at least, both Kneass — who is represented as having drifted from a minstrel troupe into Porter's company — and Hunt were at loose ends. Nothing could be farther from the truth, as even a cursory examination of their activities both before and after the two performances of The Battle of Buena Vista in Pittsburgh will reveal.

When The Battle of Buena Vista was produced for the first [page 679:] time on April 50, 1847, Kneass had already come to be regarded as the most gifted artist of an exceedingly popular minstrel troupe known as the Sable Harmonists. Although only about twenty-four years old at the time, he had already gained considerable experience as a singer. As early as 1842 he was performing in the city of New York at such places of entertainment as Concert Hall, Palmo's Oriental Saloon, 16 and Peale's New York Museum.(16) By 1844 he had evidently established something of a reputation, for Odell records that throughout February of that year and during most of March he sang with a group which met with extraordinary success at Concert Hall and for a brief interval within that period at Vauxhall.(17) On November 25, 1844, he was cast in the rôle of Captain of the Guard in the important first American production of Balfe's opera, The Bohemian Girl.(18) Within a few months of the date of this performance, however, Kneass had taken a decisive step in the direction of Negro minstrelsy, for Odell records that in February of 1845 there are “advertisements of entertainments” at Palmo's Opera House in New York “by Nelson Kneass and his Ethiopian troupe of burlesquers, who gave ludicrous parodies on Balfe's popular opera, under the title of The Virginian Girl.”(19) When the Sable Harmonists were organized during the following year, the burlesque opera, including this very travesty, became an [page 680:] important feature of their regular engagements.

The art of Negro minstrelsy evolved from the extraordinarily successful efforts of certain individual actors to imitate truthfully some authentic Negro character. By far the most gifted of these impersonators was Thomas D. Rice, whose fame was secure from the time he first “jumped Jim Crow,” perhaps as early as 1828. The story of how Rice hit upon his happy sketch has been told many times and with many variations. On one occasion he happened to see an ill-clad Negro going through certain limping, though rhythmical, motions while singing the following refrain at the end of each stanza of a popular plantation song:

Turn about an’ wheel about an’ do jis so,

An’ ebery time I turn about I jump Jim Crow.(20)

Seeing the dramatic possibilities which lay in a successful imitation of this amusing though, at the same time, pathetic Negro character, Rice perfected his little sketch and according to Carl Wittke — interpolated it between the acts of a play entitled The Rifle, which was first produced at a theatre in Louisville, Kentucky, and in which he played a minor part.(21) The success of Rice's act both in the United States and in England was astounding, but his popularity was by no means due solely to his impersonation of Jim Crow. Not only did he sing numerous other Negro songs, but he was probably the [page 681:] most significant figure in the development of the “Ethiopian Opera,” which was soon to become a regular feature of a typical Negro minstrel show.

The financial success achieved by Rice and his many imitators through their interpolated, one-man performances naturally suggested the possibilities which lay in an expansion of what was a rather limited sort of dramatic presentation. Thus, there developed in the decade of the l840's the more varied form of entertainment known as the Negro minstrel show. This development has been graphically described by an early writer on Negro minstrelsy in an article also dealing with the individual “extravaganzaist in cork and wool”:(22)

At first he performed solus, and to the accompaniment of the “show” band; but the school was progressive; couples presently appeared, and dispensing with the aid of foreign instruments, delivered their melodies to the more appropriate music of the banjo. To the banjo, in a short time, were added the bones. The art had now outgrown its infancy, and, disdaining a subordinate existence, boldly seceded from the society of harlequin and the tumblers, and met the world as an independent institution. Singers organized themselves into quartet bands; added a fiddle and tambourine to their instruments — perhaps we should say implements — of music; introduced the hoedown and the conundrum to fill up the intervals of performance; rented halls, and, peregrinating from city to city and from town to town, went on and. prospered.(23)

Although preceded by several other minstrel troupes and not so famous as the pioneer Virginia Minstrels or the longer [page 682:] lived Christy's Minstrels, the Sable Harmonists were unquestionably one of the most accomplished of the numerous strolling troupes which were organized in the forties. The original members of this troupe were frequently advertised in the daily newspapers during the spring of 1847 as Messrs. Plumer, Farrell, Huntley, Murphy, Roark, and Kneass. Their business agent was Frederick Hunt(24) — the same Hunt who later gave Kneass three garbled stanzas of “Ben Bolt,” quoted from memory, in response to Porter's request that Kneass introduce a new song during a performance of The Battle of Buena Vista.(25) Although Hunt had apparently ceased to represent the original band of Harmonists by the summer of 1847, it can be conclusively proved by means of advertisements in the daily newspapers of Cincinnati and Pittsburgh that he was the business agent of the company both before and after The Battle of Buena Vista was first performed and that Kneass was a regular member of the troupe.(26) Since the Sable Harmonists were an independent organization that fulfilled engagements in many different [page 683:] cities and also at two or more places of entertainment, successively, in some of the larger cities, it is quite clear that English was completely wrong in asserting that Kneass was a member of Porter's company when The Battle of Buena Vista was performed or that Hunt was a hanger-on of the Pittsburgh Theatre.

A brief examination of the activities of the Sable Harmonists during the spring of 1847 will reveal that English's picture of Kneass as a struggling young actor about to be dropped from Porter's payroll is particularly farfetched. About the middle of March the Harmonists arrived in Cincin nati “after a successful excursion in the south and west,”(27) which had enabled them to clear ten thousand dollars.(28) They opened their current engagement in Cincinnati at the Melodeon, on March 17,(29) and continued to fulfill engagements in that city through April 13.(30) Almost daily, the newspaper commentators praised their performances in flattering notices. “This band,” said the local editor or the Enquirer, on March 29, “has acquired a greater reputation, and won more laurels, than any other company of the kind in existence, and the consequence is, that many spurious companies relying upon the great popularity of the ‘Sable Harmonists,’ have endeavored to ‘make material* out of it by adopting their [page 684:] name.”(31) The same writer described the Harmonists as “in comparable” in a notice two days later,(32) and, on April 8, commented as follows on the “inimitable Burlesque Operas” in the repertoire of the company — one of which was to be performed that very evening:

The glowing terms in which these operas have been noticed by the most Influential portion of the eastern cities lead us to suppose that they must be rich beyond anything ever produced here. One fact alone speaks volumes in their favor, so far as their drawing property is concerned, and that is, while most excellent companies were nightly addressing the empty benches of the Park and other theatres in New York, Palmo's Opera House was crowded to repletion, by the elite of that city to witness these celebrated operas.(33)

Although this notice may not speak well for the taste or artistic appreciation of either the commentator or the so called élite of New York, it can leave little doubt concerning the popularity of the Sable Harmonists.

On April 19, 1847, the talented company opened a three day engagement at the Pittsburgh Theatre, but apparently(34) because of their popularity they were re-engaged for a few more days.(35) “The Sable Harmonists,” observed a commentator in the Pittsburgh Morning Post of April 29, “are nightly filling the Theater to overflowing. The burlesque opera of the Virginia Girl, which was performed on Tuesday to a delighted audience, will be repeated this evening. We advise those who wish good seats to go early, for the house will [page 685:] certainly be jammed.”(36) Far from being at the point of dropping Kneass from his payroll, as English maintained, Porter must have been highly pleased with him and his company for filling the Pittsburgh Theatre to the limit of its capacity!

The Battle of Buena Vista, which was advertised as a special feature in conjunction with the last two appearances of the Sable Harmonists at the Pittsburgh Theatre on April 30 and May 1, was also billed on April 30 as “a New Military Drama” and as one that had been written “especially for this occasion.”(37) Probably it was a hurriedly written piece by means of which both the Sable Harmonists and Porter hoped to capitalize the tremendous interest which not only the recent victory at Buena Vista, but the still later successes in the Mexican War, had aroused among the people. Perhaps English was mistaken in asserting that the play was written for Porter by a local playwright, for there is a letter in print which, in spite of certain brazen falsifications contained in it, may be correct in stating that Frederick Hunt wrote, specifically for the Sable Harmonists, the piece in which “Ben Bolt” was introduced.(38) However that may be, the play [page 686:] soon disappeared,(39) and is remembered now only as the medium through which Kneass introduced a song which long enjoyed an almost unprecedented popularity.

After the second and last performance of The Battle of Buena Vista on May 1, the Sable Harmonists fulfilled a five day engagement at Wheeling before returning to Pittsburgh at the request of the citizens of that city to perform at Philo Hall.(40) At Philo Hall they sang before crowded audiences and, as in Cincinnati, were pronounced to be “decidedly the best company of Ethiopians that ever visited this city.”(41) Kneass was singled out for special praise by the press. “We have rarely heard musical talent equal to that possessed by Mr. K.,” remarked one writer, “and are not surprised at his popularity among our musicians. He brings the resources of a high degree of art to the performance of his pieces. . . . ”(42) The very next day the same commentator enthusiastically exclaimed :

It is our opinion that this town is growing music mad. . . . Every body either sings, whistles, or talks music. What wonder, then, that we should write about it.

The Sable Harmonists have made the Ethiopian Melodies popular . . . . (43) [page 687:]

So popular, in fact, had the songs of the Sable Harmonists become that the proprietor of Andrews’ Saloon in Pittsburgh seized upon the opportunity to engage three of the troupe — Kneass, Murphy, and Huntley — to sing nightly at his establishment for about two months during the late spring and summer of 1847.(44) By offering this entertainment virtually free of charge, Andrews induced many persons to come to the saloon and buy his famous creams.(45) Later, he raised the price to 12 1/2 cents for admission “including a saucer of his delicious ice cream,” but large Crowds continued to frequent his popular gathering place.(46) By July 2, the enticing combination of ice cream and popular music had drawn about 15,000 persons to the saloon.(47) It was here that “Ben Bolt,” as sung by Kneass, became a great favorite with the patrons.(48)

It is quite understandable, then, that for many years to come Kneass's name, rather than English's, was destined to be associated in the popular mind with the authorship of “Ben Bolt.” But it is equally understandable that English should have resented seeing so often in print the mutilated lines which he rightfully felt to be much less virile than his own. In his unpublished reminiscences he recorded an amusing instance of how a feeling of annoyance induced by [page 688:] the mutilation of his lines caused him to express his resentment in such a way as almost to involve him in a libel suit:

Half a century ago, seeing a version of “Ben Bolt” in a newspaper, wherein the fourth stanza was made to read: —

And don’t you remember the school, Ben Bolt,

With the master so kind and so true,

And the shaded nook in the running brook

Where we gathered the flowers as they grew,

I wrote to the publisher of the paper and requested him to restore the lines as I had written them. He wrote back that the song had been very much Improved by the changes. In a weekly paper I was editing in Philadelphia at the time, I published my rejoinder, in which I said while the changes might be an improvement, that being purely a matter of personal opinion, “if he were to steal my coat, cut off the tails and make it into a serviceable jacket, the claim for improvement thereby would not be regarded a good defence at law.”

Thereupon the publisher brought suit against me for libel. Benjamin Brewster, afterwards Attorney General of the United States, and several other members of the Philadelphia bar volunteered to undertake my defence. I declined their offers with thanks and prepared to act as my own counsel; but the suit was never brought to trial.(49)

The weekly paper in which English published his rejoinder may have been a short-lived journal known as the Sunday Paper, which English helped to establish in August of 1848 and which will be considered briefly later on in this chapter.

Let us now turn to English's literary activities in 1848. At the very beginning of that year there appeared, under his and George G. (Gaslight) Foster's editorship, a [page 689:] humorous magazine entitled The John-Donkey.(50) It is impossible to say exactly when plans for this new venture materialized, although English's reminiscences of Foster indicate that they probably did so toward the end of 1847. Foster had already had some experience in this kind of undertaking, for, along with Richard Grant White, he had assisted Cornelius Mathews in the editing of the Yankee Doodle(51) — a New York comic journal which made its appearance in October of 1846 and which managed to survive about a year. In the following passage from his reminiscences, English relates the circumstances under which he first became acquainted with Foster, as well as those which led to the birth of The John-Donkey:

I first met Foster in Philadelphia, where he had come to get up local matters for the North American, having been expressly imported from New York for the purpose. I had heard of him before as a clever paragraphist, and a pleasant writer of sketches of metropolitan life He came to Philadelphia to put a little life, he said, into the respectable but rather somewhat staid paper, which still survives as respectable but abler than it ever was before. Puzzled as to what subject he should choose for his debut in the local column, he chanced to look up after night, while passing the State House, at the clock in the steeple. It struck him as strange that the light then should give the people the time by night as well as day, and he commenced his “City Items” with some queer comments about “The Illuminated Clock.” These rather tickled the public fancy, and drew popular attention to this new feature in Philadelphia journalism.

Foster had rather worn himself out — not in a literary so much as a personal way — in New York, [page 690:] and the Quaker City afforded him “fresh fields and pastures new.” He cultivated the field and fed on the pastures most industriously. The city columns of the North American were rendered very lively at that time. There was a deal of humor in Foster — sometimes labored, but always readable — and the quiet readers of a quiet paper used to rub their eyes in wonder, and chuckle with delight at the ludicrous way in which ordinary events were put before them. In the meanwhile the writer lived in the moment. He ate well, drank well and dressed well — always living a little beyond his salary always in difficulty, and nearly always as bright and careless as though he had the resources of Ester hazy or the Marquess of Westminster at command.

I used to laugh at him a deal in those days looking upon him as a singular study, and rather avoiding him; but I was destined to know a good deal more of him. One day, George B. Zieber, the publisher and newsman, who at that time had his place in the old Ledger Building, happened to talk with me about business. Somehow or other the idea of a “comic” journal — a thing always thought of here, frequently started, and always a failure struck us both. We discussed its feasibility, and let it drop. A few days after, meeting Foster, the same subject came up. I sent him to Zieber, or we went together — I forget which — and the matter began to take shape. Then I saw Darley, the artist, who consented to take part in the venture. The paper was issued, and had at first a great success.(52)

The editors of The John-Donkey gave the public a foretaste of their humor in the form of a huge broadside purporting to be a prospectus of the journal, but containing exaggerated statements of the most ludicrous kind concerning its general aims and distinctive features.(53) Numerous copies of this broadside were evidently printed and distributed in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, and Washington. [page 691:] It is addressed not only to the public of these five cities, but to the reading public in general “and to Serious, Solemn and Sober-sided Citizens throughout Christendom.” The forth coming magazine is described as a “Journal for the Present Time and for Pastime,” its motto being “Stand up to the rack fodder or no fodder” — an utterance attributed to the “Vicar of Bray.” After this preliminary information comes the following summary of the general nature and design of The John-Donkey:

This paper will be published by an association of John-donkeys, who couldn’t help it; and who being afflicted with wisdom, must get rid of some of it or burst. They are furthermore prompted to the deed by the alarming prevalence of fun, at the present impending and portentous crisis in our national history. The whole world is overwhelmed with fun — every body is laughing at us. This is a serious evil, and requires a serious remedy. We are the Christopher Columbuses of that remedy, and claim priority in its discovery. Every body who takes our paper will find this certain cure for levity, and sovereign soporific balm of solemnity, wrapped up in its various articles. No joke is to be admitted into its pages — it will never condescend to be funny, but it will treat every thing with that sagacious stupidity befitting John donkeys to write, and their fellow donkeys to read.

That the enterprise will be stable there can be no doubt. We have exhaustless capital, Including an Immense amount of brass; and our arrangements are so extensive that we are not enabled to see the end of them, much to the satisfaction of our publishers — as no men like to contemplate their own bankruptcy. In order that the public in general may understand what is to come, we mention, in strict confidence, some of our leading features.

Then follows a long list of ridiculous features, far too numerous to give here in detail. It will suffice to mention only a few which are typical of the rest. The musical department of the journal was to “be confided to a John-donkey with the most orthodox bray, and the most unimpeachable [page 692:] length of ear.” The dramatic criticisms, said the editors, “will be constructed upon the most immutable principles. Every actor who does not conciliate the ‘John-donkey’ and his tribe, and buy ‘Original American Dramas’ — a choice and frightful collection of which we keep constantly on hand shall be brayed and kicked out of the country.” But the literati were to receive the special attention of the editors: “We have a John-donkey who, from the most philanthropical motives, has provided himself with a milk bottle for the benefit of sucking authors, whom he will wet-nurse until they are able to take care of themselves.” As far as mechanical features were concerned, the editors intimated that the new magazine could not be surpassed. They promised that their circulation would be extremely large, inasmuch as they had “obtained three tons of new type, and four new Power-presses, each capable of throwing off 60,000 IMPRESSIONS PER HOUR!.’ “ Furthermore, “having engaged every Artist and Engraver of any note (bank notes excepted) in the country,” they pronounced themselves ready to issue their journal “in a style of the MOST COSTLY MAGNIFICENCE” and quite willing that it “should attain the weekly circulation of 259,846 COPIES!!!”

According to this “prospectus,” which was reprinted on the final page of the first number of the journal,(54) the original plan called for the simultaneous publication of The [page 693:] John-Donkey in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, and. Washington. On the front cover of each number of the first volume, however, not only are one or more bookdealers In each of these cities listed as publishers and suppliers of the journal, but dealers in ten other cities are similarly listed. Even though the circulation of The John-Donkey is said to have risen at one time to twelve thousand,(55) it is extremely doubtful whether there was ever more than one actual publisher: George B. Zieber of Philadelphia. Other bookdealers, with the possible exception of George Dexter of New York, were probably no more than distributors to whom agents might apply for the desired number of copies.

As English's account of the origin of The John-Donkey clearly indicates, George B. Zieber must have been the principal financial backer of the project. Yet Mott, although he acknowledges this fact, states that “the paper was quite as much a New York production as a Philadelphian” and that “undoubtedly most of it was written in New York,”(56) Each of these assertions is clearly erroneous. In the first place, the paper, from the date of its conception to that of its death, was primarily a Philadelphian undertaking. According to Smyth, who undoubtedly got his information straight from English,(57) Zieber, English, and Foster shared regularly in the profits” of the publication.(58) Of these three, the [page 694:] only one who did not live in Philadelphia during the entire period of the journal's life was Foster, and he, apparently, returned to New York only after his connection with the paper had ceased altogether. Felix O. C. Darley, artist for The John-Donkey, and C. T. Hinckley, the engraver, were also Philadelphians, although Darley did move to New York as soon as he withdrew from the enterprise. In fact, there is no indication that anybody outside of Philadelphia had the slightest control over the journal, either editorially or in a business way. The great preponderance of Philadelphia advertisements over those of New York is additional evidence that the paper was primarily a Philadelphia product. In the second place, the greater part of the paper was most certainly not written in New York despite Mott's very positive statement to the contrary.(59) A careful examination of the content of each number of The John-Donkey will bear out Smyth's statement that English himself wrote most of the articles.(60) Since Foster probably supplied a substantial part of the rest, it is obvious that only a comparatively small amount of copy could have been written in New York.

As one might surmise from the statement of their aims in the “prospectus” of The John-Donkey, the editors adopted the amusing device of always insisting upon their own stupidity. [page 695:] This stupidity was symbolized in the character of “the great and good John Donkey” himself, whom the editors endowed with a human personality and in whom they merged their own individualities. Thus, it was John himself, who because of his “wise stupidity” could so promptly detect stupidity of any kind in others. These victims of the editors’ satire or ridicule — whether they were politicians, newspaper editors, reformers, or men of letters — were frequently acclaimed as brothers by John, who affected great satisfaction upon finding in others a stupidity which he considered to be comparable to his own. The editors’ device of seeing things through the eyes of a donkey was often a rather disconcerting one to those who had smarted under John's paradoxical utterances. If these victims were sufficiently aroused to make disparaging remarks about the dullness of the new journal, John had only to plead that he was merely a very stupid beast after all and could not be expected to be either brilliant or witty.

English was of course exceedingly fortunate in procuring the services of Darley, and, in Hinckley, the editors evidently had a capable engraver. Darley's fame as an artist, however, was soon to spread over the United States and eventually over Europe. Perhaps English deserved some credit for Darley's success, for he had given the young artist encouragement at a time when Darley seemed doubtful of his own [page 696:] ability.(61) English had first met Darley in 1842, when he was looking for an artist to illustrate a poem which he intended to publish. On being shown a number of the artist's sketches, including some Illustrations of Manfred, English was greatly impressed. “The force, vigour, and beauty of what I saw,” said English, “though full of errors of drawing, satisfied me that a great artist stood before me in embryo. I urged him to turn his energies to the pursuit of art as a profession, to which he seemed inclined, though labouring under a fear lest he might thereby undertake a hazardous experiment.”(62) Not long afterwards, English showed several of Darley's drawings to certain persons, including Robert Morris, editor of the Pennsylvania Inquirer, whose approval, if won, promised to be beneficial to the young artist. Morris was so much pleased with Darley's work that he asked English to contribute to the Inquirer a paragraph in praise of the artist — a request to which English gladly responded. Later, during a visit to New York, English showed some of Darley's sketches to N. P. Willis and Mordecai M. Noah, each of whom was then editing a journal in that city. Consequently, on the following day, according to English, “laudatory notices in two New York journals astonished Darley beyond measure, and attracted a momentary attention to a debutant on the stage of art.”(63) [page 697:]

Notwithstanding Darley's ability, however, there is some question as to whether English was altogether satisfied with the artist's work for The John-Donkey. Although he acknowledged that in Darley's art “there is a thorough identification of the thought and the pencil,”(64) that “each figure has the stamp of an unmistakeable individuality of character,”(65) and that his “transfusion of the character of a class into a single figure is complete,”(66) English seemed to imply, in the following passage, that the kind of political cartoon or illustrative sketch peculiarly suited to the needs of a comic journal like The John-Donkey could have been more successfully drawn by a different kind of artist:

Yet with all the humour in these drawings, there is no positive fun. Darley's pencil is rather that of a wit than of a humourist. Every minute difference of expression, every delicate shade of character, is seized intuitively, and delineated by means of a few simple strokes of the pencil. The picture is invariably consistent; it is conceived and carried out in the most perfect manner; it grows upon you more and more as you look at it. But Darley never makes you laugh. He has no broad humour — no idea of the grotesque — no unexpectedness. His is altogether a higher sphere.(67)

Since The John-Donkey was published during the year of a Presidential election and at a time when the recent war with Mexico was still fresh in the minds of the people, it is only natural that much of the humor and satire in the journal should be at the expense of the statesmen and politicians [page 698:] who figured prominently in the violent controversies of the time. But in spite of English's strong Democratic sympathies and his wholehearted approval of the Mexican War, few nationally known persons who were conspicuously identified with either side of the political controversies of 1848 completely escaped the impact of John's hoofs or the crude insolence of his brays. Martin and John Van Buren, President Polk, General Taylor, Lewis Cass, Daniel Webster, John C. Calhoun, Henry Clay, and many others of varying political opinions were John's victims.

But John found opportunity enough to kick and bray at all sorts and conditions of men. Inasmuch as newspapermen of pronounced political opinions, as well as reformers of every description, were gleefully attacked, Horace Greeley had to take a double dose of John's medicine. The editor of the New York Sunday Mercury and Epes Sargent of the Boston Transcript were continually ridiculed because of the alleged insipidness of their papers. The editor of the Mercury was ridiculed under the nickname of “Spoons,” and Epes Sargent under that of “Miss Eppie Sargent.” William Lloyd Garrison was treated as a madman because of his extreme abolitionist views. Nor, as the prospectus of The John-Donkey had forecast, were the literati neglected. Among those who were most frequently and facetiously dealt with was Cornelius Mathews, who was represented as having [page 699:] been employed by the proprietors of The John-Donkey to edit The Elephant, a humorous publication which the proprietors of The John-Donkey announced they had established as a foil for the purpose of setting off the merits of their own journal. “All writers,” said the proprietors in an advertisement of The Elephant, “whose articles have been refused by THE JOHN-DONKEY, will please apply to the office of THE ELEPHANT, where they (with the public) will be taken in.”(68) George Lippard was a frequent target, as was Henry B. Hirst, who under the name of Henriette, or Henrietta, was roundly abused for inflicting his poetry on the public. As one might surmise to have been the case in any journal with which English was connected, Poe had to endure more than his share of the satirical gibes reserved especially for the literati.

Aside from some of the attacks on Poe, there is little that can be called really vicious in the satire or in the boisterous humor of The John-Donkey — crude though much of it sometimes was. The comments of the press indicate that the obstreperousness of John was generally welcomed by editors as a pleasant relief from the more grimly serious behavior of their less uninhibited colleagues. “Talking of fun,” said the local editor of a Pittsburgh newspaper, not long after The John-Donkey first made its appearance, “ — coming down Wood Street, the other day, we met a dirty faced little urchin, with a bundle of papers under his arm, who enquired if we wanted to ‘buy a Donkey.’ We really had no use for [page 700:] the animal; but on enquiring the price, the young merchant offered to sell at 6 cents — ‘cheap any how, thought we — Uncle Sam pays eight dollars a day for the hire of donkeys — what a fool he is, when he might purchase them for himself at 6 cents a head.’ Instead of a veritable donkey, however, we received in exchange for our money — a 5 cent piece and 1 cent — a copy of the John Donkey newspaper, so named from the presumed affinity between its conductors and that respectable animal. John Donkey pleaseth us much. His is the merriest paper we have yet seen printed on this side of the water, and is no mean rival of Punch. Indeed, in some by respects, we prefer him to his English brother.”(69) More than two months afterwards, a Philadelphia editor remarked: “John Donkey for the present week, is the very best number that has yet been published. It contains some admirable hits, and a caricature over which we laughed; till nearly sore. Those who have the blues cannot do better than get this week's Donkey.”(70) These comments are typical of many expressions or approval and appreciation that appeared regularly in the press after each succeeding issue of The John-Donkey.

John had the happy faculty of being able to laugh at himself, as well as at his victims. He alluded again and again to his one and only subscriber and to the “tin sixpence” [page 701:] which represented his meager capital assets, despite the exorbitant claims of almost unlimited financial backing and eventual circulation which had been facetiously proclaimed in the prospectus of the journal. Largely for this very reason, perhaps, John's fellow editors tended to look upon him with real affection — even those who were targets of his humor. Occasionally, however — as the following comment in the New York Sunday Mercury attest — she aroused in his victims an entirely different kind of feeling: “Some attenuated buffoon at Philadelphia has issued a thing called the John-Donkey — a miserable imitation of Punch (and that has been weak enough of late), and a worse one of Yankee Doodle. The fact is, it's Yankee Doodle itself, with elongated ears, and a pokenose physiognomy.”(71) But comments of this sort were exceptional and seldom came from an editor whom John had not singled out for ridicule.

It is not feasible, of course, in a study of this kind to devote a great deal of space to the many individual articles — long or short — which appeared from week to week in The John-Donkey, even though English himself was undoubtedly the most prolific contributor. A brief consideration of a few of them, however, will enable the reader to form a more accurate impression of the distinctive qualities of the journal than he could possibly form if he based his conclusions solely on a mere generalized discussion. [page 702:] Let us observe, then, from a brief summary of some of the individual articles, how John Donkey had his fun at the expense of prominent persons in various walks of life.

In the very first number of the journal, two persons prominent in politics — Martin Van Buren and President James K. Polk — are subjected to a little good-natured ridicule. The number opens with an amusing leader purporting to outline, item by item, the policies and general alms of The John-Donkey.(72) In each instance, however, John tediously digresses before coming specifically to the point. Consequently, the full-length leader comes to an end without having contained a single complete statement directly pertaining to the topic under discussion. Not until one reads the following postscript, however, is it obvious that Van Buren is the target of John's sarcasm: “We wish it distinctly understood that we are not indebted to Mr. VAN BUREN for the above leader. We state this on account of a supposed similarity of style — Mr. VAN BUREN's friends claiming for him an honor to which he is not entitled — though he occasionally makes himself as intelligible as we.”(73) The second article in question is a lengthy document printed over the name of James K. Polk, which is represented as being an advance copy of the President's yet-undelivered message to Congress.(74) The President is represented as saying that inasmuch as [page 703:] “various newspapers in the country have been in the habit of presenting, at the commencement of every session, a burlesque document, purporting to be the annual message,” he has “appropriated the three millions” that Congress has placed at his disposal “to the establishment of a new official organ to be called ‘THE JOHN-DONKEY,’” through which the content of his message will first be made known to the representatives of the people.(75) Although John makes Polk his mouthpiece, the article is evidently a hit at the dullness of Presidential messages in general.

One of the cleverest of all the lengthier contributions is English's travesty of Don Quixote, in which Horace Greeley is the hero. This travesty was published in serial form every week from January 8 to March 11, inclusive, and is entitled “The Untranslated Don Quixote,” or “The Adventures of Don Key Haughty.” English amusingly accounts for the publication of this remarkable manuscript in the following “Preface”:

In pursuing our researches among the Archaic MSS. which are to be in the great public library, which is to be presented by JOHN JACOB ASTOR, to the city of NEW YORK, we came upon the original papers of Cid HAMET ben ENGELI, wherefrom CERVANTES had his book of Don Quixote. To our utter astonishment, we discovered that the Spaniard had refrained or neglected to translate what we conceived to be the best portion of the work. We at once determined to perform the task which CERVANTES had avoided. In doing this, however, we noticed two very important errors, evidently done with malice aforethought, in order to propitiate the Spanish national pride. The name of the hero, as spelled by the Spanish writer, is pronounced somewhat as follows: — Don Kehote da lah Mancha. In the original it is pronounced Donkey haughty ho Ratio Greele, which in English means, “That funny Donkey, the New-light Reformer.” A similar alteration [page 704:] is made in the name of the squire, which instead of Sancho Panza, should be SIMON PARKER. As faithful translators, we are obliged to present these things precisely as we find them.(76)

What follows this “Preface,” of course, is a vulgarized imitation of Don Quixote, in which Don Key Haughty (or Horace Greeley) 3ets out with his squire, Simon Parker, in search of great deeds to perform. From the beginning to the end of the travesty, Greeley is ridiculed as a zealous reformer, Don Key Haughty ho Ratio Greele is represented, in each of his adventures, as militantly trying to alter some existing state of affairs in the world which does not conform to his own idea of social justice. In most instances, of course, he ludicrously comes to grief and is often chastised humiliatingly for his pains. But humiliated or not, he never gives up trying to set things right, for he believes that he is destined to lead mankind to a state of perfection.

Don Key Haughty's first good deed is an attempt to prevent a hanging, for which he and his squire each receive a vicious beating. He is next tarred and feathered for his partly successful effort to compel two men to release fifty slaves in their charge. When he tries to force an innkeeper to empty the liquor from all his decanters, he is held under a pump and soused with water. Later, after rescuing a girl — whom he and Simon suppose to be an innocent working girl — he is taken, along with Simon, to her residence, which she [page 705:] says is a nunnery but which turns out to be a very different sort of place. Far from being greeted by nuns, they are welcomed by eleven girls in perfumed and costly garments, who prevail upon the outnumbered men to remain with them. Eventually, however, so much hilarious noise issues from the place that the police feel called upon to interfere. The upshot of this interference is that Don Key Haughty and his squire are taken to the Tombs and imprisoned. Here they who, as the following extract from the travesty will reveal, is a caricature of Poe:

Scarcely were they safely landed in the Tombs, when the Knight said to SIMON, that since adverse fortune had placed them in the power of their enemies, they should endeavor to make the acquaintance of such of their fellow-prisoners as were worthy. “And doubtless,” said he, “there be many brave knights and their squires, like ourselves, who, in endeavoring to rescue the oppressed and guard the innocent, have been overcome by the enchantments and spells of those wicked sorcerers, the worshippers of law. Let us therefore form a union with them, so that when this castle shall have been overthrown by some chivalrous knight, we may all go forth together, a strong band, to slay the Alcaldes, and put down every mother's son who is not of our way of thinking.” To all this SIMON assented, not for the reasons of the Knight, but because he thought it better to have bad company than none, for the four-and-twenty hours that he felt sure they must pass there. Therefore he set to work to bring the prisoners to an acquaintance with his master; which he found no trouble in doing, since they, struck with the strange appearance of the Knight, were equally desirous of knowing whom he might be, and what brought him there.

The first person whom SIMON noticed in particular, was a melancholy-looking little man, in a rusty suit of black — whose spade-shaped countenance seemed as though soap and razors had been lost to the world, to say nothing of an entire out-rooting of the whole race of barbers. This [page 706:] little man attracted attention at the first glance, from the zeal and energy with which he flourished a roll of manuscript, and the abstraction which he evinced while engaged in examining its contents. To him SIMON at once went, and tapping him on the shoulder, said”See here, old hoss — my boss there wants to talk with you.”

The poet started, exclaiming — ”Beautiful!”

“Well,” answered the squire, “tastes differ. I can’t say the Knight is good-lookin’, cordin to my notion; but I dare say the Dona DULCINEA del BOSTON, thinks so. Howsomdever, he’d like to talk with you.”

“If he adores the gentle muse,” answered the man, “the minstrel of the Raven will commune with him — always provided he is fully satisfied that nobody ever did, could, would, should, does, can, will, or shall write poetry but myself. The true office of poetry,” continued he, addressing himself to the Knight, who had now come up, “is much misunderstood. It has been supposed by many that the office of the minstrel was to rouse up the better feelings and impulses of man's nature, through the medium of bold thoughts and stirring words — to denounce vice with sarcasm, and laud virtue in glowing terms — to do battle for the right, and oppose the wrong. A poet has been regarded as the knight-errant of rhyme — the holy minister in a holy temple — the priest at the altar of good, commissioned to pour the coals of a high art upon the heads of the world.”

“Such was my idea,” rejoined the Knight, “and hence it was that — although no troubadour, I have contributed a verse or two to the yaller kiver collection of Tihpicnu and Tailurtu, — to say nothing of a hymn of progress, and few [sic] verses in a Tribune carrier's address.”

“Yet nothing can be farther from this, ‘ exclaimed the poet, “than the true office of poesy. The poem is the rhythmical creation of beauty, the impersonation of the not-to-be-personated the ideal, in a succession of musical syllables; and whenever it possesses an object or an end whenever it has anything like sense — or whenever point is not entirely sacrificed to euphony, it can no longer claim the name of poem, or be regarded as a work of art. In illustration of these ideas, permit me to read to you a production of mine, which is incomparably superior to that of any writer ever known before me.”

“But,” remonstrated DON KEY HAUGHTY, “could [page 707:] you not postpone the reading until a more suitable occasion?”(77)

Notwithstanding Don Key Haughty's remonstrances, however, the poet insists upon reading his masterpiece. It is an absurdly nonsensical, though cleverly illustrated, narrative poem entitled “Rosaline,” which tells the tragic story of two lovers, Sal and Bob.(78) Driven to despair because Sal scorns his love, Bob commits suicide by hurling himself from a cliff into the sea. His sweetheart, however, does not long survive him. Maddened by what has happened and by fear that she will be an old maid, Sal ends her life by cutting her throat with a razor. After the reading is over, the dialogue is resumed as follows, the poet speaking first:

“There!” exclaimed he, triumphantly, “that is a true poem. If an^r body can find any sense in that, I am much mistaken.’

“Nevertheless, “said the Knight,. “I think it might be improved by a moral. Suppose you add these lines; “Mark you the moral, refractory young maids! Never your lovers so warm to despair drive Else they may drown themselves, while you with throats cut Have to go after them.”

“And so spoil the whole,” replied the poet. “No, sir!” and he walked away in a passion.

But the poem and the conversation had inspired the Knight; and he at once signified his desire to address his fellow-prisoners. So they gathered around him, and mounting on a high stool, by the aid of SIMON, he harangued them at length upon the evils of society.(79) [page 708:]

In his address to his fellow prisoners, Don Key Haughty argues that society must be reconstructed. Every one, he contends, must be given property enough to support him and . then must be allowed to get rid of it in any way he may see fit. After he has disposed of it, another division will of course have to be made. But before all this can be effected, says Don Key Haughty, “it will be necessary to join the new party of progress, and proceed to vote ourselves whatever may be necessary to our ease and comfort.”(80) Not long afterwards Don Key Haughty returns to his home and is astonished to find one of the men whom he had addressed in the Tombs occupying a chair “in the great hall.”(81) The former prisoner has come to make himself at home, of course, and to put into practice the Knight's theories. Needless to say, Don Key Haughty is unalterably opposed to any equal sharing of property that involves his own discomfort.

After a final mission, during which the Knight makes an abortive attempt to better the economic status of sewing girls, English's burlesque narrative comes rather abruptly to a close. On the whole, it is an ably written travesty and reveals English's sense of humor at its best. Although Greeley's faddism and zeal for reform are much exaggerated, his tendency to identify himself with new movements of various kinds was pronounced enough to give English's gibes a great deal of point. English's imitation of Cervantes’ manner is excellent, and his humor, though satirical, is not of the [page 709:] scurrilous sort that characterizes so many of his lampoons. Even the episode in which Poe is caricatured is less objectionable in this respect than most of his attacks upon his bitter enemy. The so-called “dactylo-spondaic” poem which he attributes to the poet in this particular episode, however, is so foreign to Poe's manner as to deprive the episode of much of its potential humorous effect.

But aside from this caricature in “The Adventures of Don Key Haughty,” The John-Donkey contains numerous verbal attacks on Poe, some of which are extremely cutting. Moreover, it is highly probable that English was responsible for them all. In the first number of the journal is the following squib, evidently alluding to Poe's tippling habits: “We understand that Mr. E. A. POE has been employed to furnish the railing for the new railroad over Broadway. He was seen going up street a few days ago, apparently laying out the road.”(82) The next number contains the following item referring to the one just cited: “By some kind of mistake, a little squib was fired off at this very estimable young man, in our first number. We should not have recalled it to the memories of our readers, had not the ‘Miner's Journal,’ at Pottsville, thought proper to make it the occasion to puff Mr. POE. That writer does not deserve such cruel treatment at the hands of his friends. He has no objection to be abused, when the abuse comes from men of talent; but to be [page 710:] praised by the editor of the Miner's Journal, is an insult not to be forgiven.”(83) Later, in an article entitled “Natural History of John-donkey,” the author asserts that there “are two kinds of JOHN-DONKEYS — those who were made Donkeys — and those who have made Donkeys of themselves.” Of the latter class, the author observes: “The ranks of the Poe-ts and philosophers are Infested with them.”(84) Thus, English continued to pepper Poe with small shot long after the two men had ceased having any personal dealings with each other.

Among the longer and more caustic of English's attacks on Poe in The John-Donkey is a sketch entitled “Hints to Authors,” which he prefixed to his “Tale of a Gray Tadpole.” This story, of course, was merely a slightly altered reprint of his burlesque of Poe's style already quoted in this study under its original title, “The Ghost of a Grey Tadpole.” In the preliminary sketch, which appeared for the first time in The John-Donkey, English undertakes to instruct authors on how to write a type of tale which he calls “the Germanesque” and which he considers to embody the chief features of Poe's style. It is a particularly offensive attack in that it contains an unnecessary and undoubtedly malicious allusion to Poe's alleged behavior in the affair involving Mrs. Ellet's letters — a matter which a sense of good taste ought long before to have induced English to drop as a topic for public comment. Most of the sketch is quoted below: [page 711:]

The Germanesque is a name, which, for want of a better, we have given to a species of tale or sketch of incident, which seems to be getting into vogue. As it may be — for popular taste is sometimes monstrous in its character — the rage, at one time or other, you shall be taught all the rules by which it is composed. They are few and easy to comprehend. Indeed, judging by the works and mind of its chief and almost only follower on this side of the Atlantic, it is a pure art, almost mechanical — requiring neither genius, taste, wit, nor judgment — and accessible to every Impudent and contemptible mountebank, who may choose to slander a lady, and then plead insanity to shelter himself from the vengeance of her relatives.

You must by all means choose a subject, which every one under ordinary management could comprehend. To mystify such a thing as this proves your genius. An ordinary man, in an ordinary disquisition upon a vegetable so ordinary as potatoes, would be easy to comprehend. What he wrote those who read would fathom at once. But if you write about such a matter, satisfy them that although you may be yourself the smallest of small potatoes, you and your productions are alike difficult of digestion.

Pay great attention to minutiae, and lay great stress on trifles. This’ makes the reader expect that the story will hinge upon these especially, and he becomes very thankful if he be disappointed. For instance — if your hero wear boots, give the exact height of their heels, the breadth of their toes, the name of their maker, and the number of pegs in their soles. Every one will conclude that you are possessed of an observation so rigorous that nothing can escape it, and think you qualified at least to search in a haystack for a lost needle.

You can frequently produce a great effect by writing the first part of your work with a certain design, which you change before you get to the end. This will make a very pretty confusion. But your best plan is to carry your work through without any design at all. Thus, neither yourself nor your reader will understand your intent; and to effect this delicious state of bewilderment is the true office of the Germanesque.

Preface your production by a number of quotations, from as many languages as possible. It is not necessary that these should have any reference to the subject, Indeed, that they should have any meaning. Your purpose will be sufficiently answered, if you impress your reader with a belief that you are a profound linguist and an untiring reader.(85) [page 712:]

Among other interesting lampoons at Poe's expense in The John-Donkey is a reprint of a mock imitation of Poe's alleged contradictory method of criticism that had appeared in The Town more than three years earlier. Although referred to in The Town as being a criticism “astray from the office of The Broadway Journal,”(86) the review as reprinted in The John-Donkey is assigned specifically to Poe. Its reappearance — as follows — in the latter periodical indicates that English was probably the author:

REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.

BY E. A. POE.

The Adventures, Life and Opinions of John Smith — with Some Account of his Genius and Writings: 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 468:

London: 1845: Wiley and Putnam.

In the first place we have to say of this book that it is a mass of unsufferable trash, without one redeeming quality. The type is bad, the ink is dirty, the paper is horribly slazy, and the binding beyond all bounds of patience. Besides this, the; shape of the book is a perfect monstrosity. It is neither a parallelogram, a rhomboid, a hectagon nor an octagon; but a thing out of all mathematical proportions, and which, to worship, would not imply the sin of Idolatry — as it is certainly not in the likeness of any thing, either on the earth or in the waters — much less in heaven.

The literary contents of this volume are of an entirely negative character — neither good nor bad. Every body, we suppose, has heard of JOHN SMITH his deeds are notorious, and his biography has been written by the police reporters any time these last ten years. We do not see, therefore, why this anonymous scribbler (who, by the way, we know very well; should have attempted to thrust himself into authorship, where he has about as much business as the bull in the China shop. With these few exceptions, (which, as true critics, we felt bound to name,) we [page 713:] think the “Adventures, Life and Opinions of JOHN SMITH” one of the most delightful books we have ever read. Its humor is irresistible, its wit exquisite, and its pathos overwhelming. No library is complete without a copy of this great work. It is printed in a beautiful arabesque style by WILEY AND PUTNAM.(87)

Also of more than passing interest are two rather peppery squibs pertaining to Poe's Eureka. The first of these was prompted by an announcement of Poe's forthcoming lecture at the New York Society Library on February 3, 1848 — the occasion of his first public reading of Eureka. “Mr. POE,” said English — for we may assume that English was the lampooner, “who used to flourish in this city, is announced to deliver a lecture on the ‘Universe,’ at the N. Y. Society Library. Some of our friends say they hope he will not disappoint his auditors, as he did once before. We suspect he will, whether he delivers his lecture or not.”(88) More than six months later — after Eureka had been published — English fired off the following squib:

GREAT LITERARY CRASH.

We learn that a row of shelves, occupying one side of the publishing house of our friend WILEY, broke down on Saturday, with a tremendous crash, which startled the clerks from their afternoon naps, and made the worthy publisher himself look up from his ledger. The cause of the catastrophe was, however, explained upon an examination of the smashed premises. It appears that a new porter, not yet acquainted with the specific gravity of the various American authors, had imprudently piled the entire edition of POE's new poem “Eureka,” upon these shelves. It is only wonderful, considering the [page 714:] immense ponderosity of the burden, that not only the shelves, but the whole building did not come to the ground. The book has already “brought down” the critics, and it will be strange indeed if it doesn’t do as much for the publisher.

P. S. — We learn that the Canal Bank of Albany has applied for the remainder (!) of the edition of “Eureka,” to serve as “dead-weight” in that prosperous institution.(89)

But it must not be supposed that all of John Donkey's fun consisted of ridicule at the expense of others. The numbers of the magazine for March 25 and April 1 each carried Identical notices of a forthcoming contest in which two silver cups of the same value would be awarded to the persons sending in the first and second best conundrums before 90 April 5, 1848.(90) These cups were referred to as “Drinking cups which teetotalers may get” and were on display — one in the window of a silverware establishment in New York and the other, in the window of a similar establishment in Philadelphia. In the issues of April 8 and April 15 it was announced that the prizes had already been awarded and that the best of the conundrums would begin to appear in the issue of April 22.(91) In his reminiscences of Foster, English gives an amusing account of this contest:

It was during the palmy days of our funny paper that a funny incident occurred. We offered prizes for the best conundrums sent us — two silver cups — one of which was on show at Ball and Black's, in Broadway, and the other at Bailey and Kitchen's, in Chestnut street. The announcement brought us’ conundrums by the bushel basket full. We received over twenty thousand in competition, of which one [page 715:] half were plays on the name of the paper, or queries asking why it was not a turnip, and answering, “Because it can’t be beat (beet.)” We assorted them with great care and labor — throwing all the “beet” jokes Into boxes to be sent to the paper mill, and arranging the others for the Inspection of the judges. The Rhadamanthean individuals who were, in conjunction with ourselves, to determine the claims of the competitors, it is hardly necessary to say were Morton M’Michael and Louis A. Godey. In those days M’Michael and Godey were the judges of everything in Philadelphia, from the plan of a college down to the propriety of a puppet show. They came, and we sat down to discuss champagne and conundrums. Certainly we all enjoyed the task; for never did we find such funny attempts at humor — funniest in their failure. Nearly every word in the English language had been made the subject of a comparison. Some of these efforts went to the very depths of the absurd. For instance, one punster asked, “Why is a pile of bricks like a dead mackarel?” and answered, “‘Because neither can vote at elections;” while another, to the query — “Why is a cow unlike a cucumber?” furnished the reply, “Because it can’t;” which, however true it might be, was not very humorous, in spite of that unexpectedness which is said to be at the bottom of all humor. At length, we came across one that was accorded the first prize — “Why was Adam the swiftest runner that ever lived? Because he was the first in the human race.” It was “neat, but not gaudy,” and painfully devoid of all fun. The second prize was more difficult to determine — there being a dead level of dullness in the rest; but at length we came to the conclusion that the following, the production of a youth who did not point his wit by correct punctuation, or throw any undue spells over us, was at least funny from its absurdity:

“Why is a man agoing to drown Three kittens, when he has thrown all Overboard but one like a ship stopping in the middle of her course? Because he has Hove-to (two.”) [sic]

For absolute absurdity we agreed that this could not be excelled, and so we “hove” the cup at its author.

The notable point about the matter was that nearly every body supposed our offer of the cups to be a quiz. Had the genuineness of the offer been unquestionable, the mail-bags would not have been large enough to have held [sic] the contributions to our Balaam boxes. Fortunately, only the most simple-hearted, honest themselves, and so not distrustful of others, believed us.(92) [page 716:]

Although an examination of the twenty-five conundrums judged to be the best and subsequently printed in The John-Donkey will reveal that whereas English did not recall the second of the prizewinning contributions quite accurately, his recollection of It was close enough not to distort the author's intent.(93)

In the final number of the first volume of The John-Donkey, the editors, it appears, perpetrated an amusing hoax at the expense of the readers of the magazine.(94) They announced that John Donkey had died because he had been unable to stomach the recent nomination by the Whigs of Zachary Taylor for President of the United States. “For some time past,” they said, “ — indeed ever since he was compelled to swallow General TAYLOR, Old Whitey, boots and all, — we have been compelled to notice that there was something heavy on his stomach. Our forebodings have proved, alas! too true. HE CARRIED DEATH IN HIS BOSOM! As the great man approached the last page of his volume of life, he evidently grew more and more weekly; and at last brayed out his innocent and inoffensive life without a groan or a subscriber. Thus, in addition to his other horrible and unheard of enormities, General ZACHARY TAYLOR has at length crowned his wicked career by causing the death of C. ASS and his venerable brother JOHN — threatening the extinction of the entire race.” After some further eulogy of this sort, there is a sudden [page 717:] shift from the third to the first person plural, after which John Donkey is evidently supposed to be writing his own obituary. Included in this obituary is a description of the funeral procession, led by “G. B. ZIEBER & CO., attended on either side by the Paper Makers, Compositors, and a numerous deputation of INTELLIGENT READERS.” The last member of the procession was “Our Subscriber.” The second of two postscripts following this fatal account, however, hinted that the announcement of John's death might prove to be erroneous. “if there should be any mistake in regard to our unfortunate demise,” said John, “the public will convey the joyful intelligence to our subscriber.” At any rate, the announcement of John's death was premature, for the first number of the second volume of the magazine appeared without interruption. It is quite possible, too, that no hoax was intended, but that the proprietors had really almost given up the idea of starting another volume.

Mott erroneously states that the publication of The John-Donkey was discontinued after three numbers of the second volume had been issued — or, in other words, after the appearance of the number for July 15 — , and he suggests that its demise was probably due to seven libel suits said to have been filed against the magazine during the preceding May.(95) Actually, however, The John-Donkey managed to survive until October 21, although publication was temporarily [page 718:] suspended after the number for August 12 had appeared and was not resumed until the number for September 25 was issued. From September 25 to October 21, five numbers were published without interruption. Although the editors did refer facetiously to seven libel suits that had been filed against the journal in May,(96) there is no indication that they were at all concerned about the matter or that they may not have been perpetrating one of their numerous hoaxes in circulating the story of their legal involvement.

Although the discontinuance of the second volume of the magazine between August 12 and September 25 indicates that John was no longer in a flourishing condition, he did not die without a struggle. “John Donkey has found his legs again,” said one of his most frequent well-wishers after the appearance of the number for September 25, “and commences a winter campaign in the dullest possible humor. John, like a contrary beast, assumed torpidity during the summer heats, but the first yellow leaf brings him forth to a rich repast on the follies of life, and the comical incidents attendant upon a political campaign. His illustrations are good, without being ill-natured, and if he does not get along now, we shall be mistaken.”(97) But despite frequent encouraging remarks of this sort, John Donkey finally gave up the struggle on October 21, 1848, after bidding his readers farewell in [page 719:] the following manner:

The great and good JOHN DONKEY is obliged, by the noise and confusion around him, to make arrangements for his own decease — to write his own epitaph — to make his final testament — and then to give his final kick. His days have dwindled to the shortest span. Though he promised to stand up to the rack, fodder or no fodder, it did not follow that he was to bray without food. He tried to live without eating, and at one time with the most brilliant prospects of success. But as cruel Fate and a weak constitution would have it, just as he had reduced himself to the half-leaf of a thistle per diem, he felt his strength failing, and his life ebbing away like liquor through a leak. As he is about to become defunct, he wishes to make his peace with all mankind, including GEORGE LIPPARD and SPOONS, O. G. — and all womankind, including EPPIE SARGENT and HENRIETTA B. HIRST. For the abuse and vilification which he has poured on their devoted heads, he forgives them from the bottom of his soul; and promises, when he arises, like the fabled funny-ass, from his ashes, to abuse them twice as much. To his heirs he leaves the balance of that Tin Sixpence, and the deathless regards of his Single Subscriber His epitaph may be made up as follows:

Here reposes

The mane and remains of

THE GREAT AND GOOD JOHN DONKEY,

who departed this life during the day

on which he died;

attended to the last by all his creditors,

and immensely lamented

by his Only Subscriber.

His virtues consisted in his

profound dullness

and unconquerable stupidity.

His faults consisted in

a propensity to kick,

and a fondness for fine fodder.

The last words he uttered were spoken

to an anxious creditor; to whom he said

“DON'T YOU WISH YOU MAY GET IT” —

and when asked where

His Property

might be found, solemnly answered

“IN A HORN.”

Thus speaking, the glorious patriot,

in his final convulsions, [page 720:]

first kicked off the bedclothes,

and then

kicked the bucket.

His mourning friends and near relatives,

the members of

the New York Historical Society,

have raised this monument

to his memory.

————

Recky, his cat, in Paste.

————

Act. 1 an. (or less.)

————

Thus ends our melancholy duty, and in retiring from public life, we turn our back upon our readers, that they may contemplate our latter end, and peruse again and again our melancholy tail(98)

Although Smyth has recorded that The John-Donkey was discontinued shortly after “Zieber failed, and Foster went out” — when its circulation dropped from twelve thousand to three thousand — ,(99) Mott rejects the explanation that Zieber's’ failure was responsible for its discontinuance on the ground that his company “was still a going concern when the paper published its last number.”(100) Of course, Mott's position is based on the incorrect assumption that the magazine expired more than three months earlier than it actually did. But his position is not necessarily thereby Invalidated, fox1 George Zieber's name seems to have been connected with the company until sometime in 1849.(101) On the other hand, [page 721:] English's own account as to why the journal had. to be discontinued — an account evidently unknown to Mott — confirms Smyth's explanation. “The expenses were heavy,” said English, “but we were beginning to get a return of those, when Zieber, who had embarked in all kinds of speculations, from Universal Vegetable Pills to town lots in the moon, took it into his head to fail. There we were with an elephant on our hands. Darley, who had an eye to the main chance, soon left the animal. Foster went next — we quarreled about something, and though he sent me a letter of explanation that composed the difficulty, I found him so careless in money matters — to put a fine point on it — that our relations grew cold. Thus I had the quadruped in my hands solely, and I put him to death as humanely as possible.”(102) Even though Zieber's company may have been “a going concern” when The John-Donkey expired, there is little reason to question the essential truth of English's statement concerning a matter in which he was so intimately involved. Perhaps English merely meant that the precarious state of Zieber's business affairs, which was soon to result in his failure, compelled him to withdraw all financial support from the journal.

Contemporary newspaper comment indicates that The John-Donkey was pretty generally acknowledged to be superior to any comic journal which had preceded it in the United States. [page 722:] Typical of this general view is the opinion of the editor of the Philadelphia Times, who maintained that it possessed “more real merit than any publication of the kind” which had hitherto been “seen in this country”(103) ; or that of Horace Greeley, who evidently did not resent his rôle of hero in English's travesty of Don Quixote. After referring briefly to the first number of a new illustrated comic paper entitled the Leuchkugeln, which he had just received from Munich, Greeley observed that, in America, The John-Donkey was “a decided improvement on former efforts in this line.”(104) A writer for the Brooklyn Eagle went so far as to speak of The John-Donkey's “broad wit — the real coarse, but deep, true stuff, like Shakespeare's (without any in delicacy, however,) own natural comic humor.”(105)

Despite such fulsome praise, however, the present-day reader will surely find much of the intended humor of The John-Donkey exceedingly flat indeed. He will find that he is too far removed from the unimportant events and transient situations which so often evoked that humor. Yet it was the verdict of one of English's literary contemporaries, even three years after the journal had ceased to be, that The John-Donkey was worthy of considerable praise. “it was the [page 723:] best attempt at a ‘Punch’ our dyspeptic jokers have yet perpetrated,” said Augustine Duganne. “Had it been less meritorious, it had been longer-lived.”(106) There can be little doubt, then, that the journal was cleverly and ably edited.

But The John-Donkey was not the only literary project on which English and Foster worked as a team in 1848. On March 18 of that year the steamship Cambria arrived in New York with the first news to reach the United States of the recent revolutionary events in France, which had driven Louis Philippe from the throne and which were soon to lead to the establishment of the Second Republic. So sudden had been the collapse of the monarchy that the whole world was taken by surprise. Even surprised were the bourgeoisie in France, who, tn their long struggle for power against the royalists, had previously had time enough to outmaneuver two revolutions and consequently to obtain a form of government reasonably satisfactory to themselves, but in which the working man had virtually no voice. Now, however, a revolution had been accomplished after a struggle of only three days — from February 22 through February 24. — Hence, before the bourgeoisie could maneuver themselves into an advantageous position, a provisional government, decidedly more radical than they would have wished, had assumed authority.

The news of these events aroused tremendous interest [page 724:] and enthusiasm throughout the United States, but particularly in the larger cities on the eastern seaboard with their large foreign populations. Persons of Irish birth and descent were especially vociferous in hailing the revolution in France as a portent of things to come in Ireland. James Gordon Bennett, whose New York Herald provided the people with full accounts of the exciting events following the arrival of each succeeding steamer from Europe, remarked editorially on March 26 that “a new organization, in favor of the spread of republican principles” had been formed, “extending itself amongst the various classes of our French, German, Italian, Swiss, Irish, and other adopted citizens. . . .”(107) Bennett also announced that a movement was under way to enlist the aid of France in the cause of Irish freedom. He concluded with the following comment: “The French revolution, it would appear, has set our adopted citizens in general on the move, in favor of the extension of republican freedom all over Europe. This is the ‘beginning of the end.’” On March 51 Bennett went so far as to say that the February Revolution was “as much the beginning of a new age and a new era in the history of civilization and the human race, as the downfall of Paganism and the spread of Christianity in Europe were ten centuries ago, or even the reformation in Germany, commenced by Luther, which spread over the then civilized world, and convulsed all Europe for two centuries.”(108) [page 725:] On April 5 Bennett praised President Polk for nobly announcing in favor of the Revolution. “The great problem of the century,” said Bennett in the same editorial, “is the success of the new republic proclaimed in France. For a week the public mind has been filled with nothing else — first with joy, exultation and congratulation; and now with hesitance, doubt and fear of its ultimate success.”(109)

In view of all the popular enthusiasm aroused by these unlooked-for events, it is not surprising that Foster and English decided to capitalize this enthusiasm by collaborating on a book dealing with the political changes that had occurred. They were ideally suited to collaborate on an ephemeral book of this sort, for their journalistic background, their facility in composition, and their anti-British and pro-Irish sentiments — all combined to make it probable that they could have a book ready for publication while popular fervor was still at white heat and that they could write it in a style which would please the masses. On April 5, at any rate — only eighteen days after the first news of the Revolution had reached the United States — the New York Tribune carried an advertisement of their forthcoming book under the caption of “FOSTER AND ENGLISH ON THE FRENCH 110 REVOLUTION.”(110) Its complete title was advertised as The French Revolution of 1848; Its Causes, Actors, Events and Influences, and its object was “to present an exposition, not [page 726:] only of the events of the Revolution, but of its philosophical and social relations to the history and destiny of humanity.” G. B. Zieber and Company, of Philadelphia, were the publishers, and Burgess, Stringer and Company were the New York agents. It was announced, furthermore, that the book was in press and that it would be published immediately.

Although this early advertisement implied that the book was almost ready for publication by April 5, it is not to be Inferred that Foster and English completed their ambitious work of 221 pages in less than three weeks. The advertisement, which appeared not only on April 5 but on various dates thereafter, had evidently been written as soon as the earlier chapters of the book were completed and in process of being printed. Actually, the book was in press for at least a month before it was ready for sale,(111) and it contains a considerable amount of factual information which could not possibly have reached the authors until after April 5. Before the end of April, however, the work had apparently been completed, and it was placed on sale at some time during the early part of May.(112) The authors must have realized that their work would be [page 727:] criticized for lacking in the artistic finish which a less hurried performance might have made possible. At any rate, they defended their book and their method of preparing it in the following rather apologetic and unconvincing prefatory notice dated April, 1848:

The present work is offered to the public rather as a timely exposition of the opening of a new era in history — an era in which sentiments and truths are to play the part heretofore enacted by brute force — than as a highly polished work of art. The science of word-weaving has lost much of its force since the fabric of human thought has begun to assume the more palpable issue of action; and it has been our object to deal in ideas and movements rather than in phrases and cadences. The incidents of the great event which we have feebly depicted, have been necessarily collected with haste, yet we have bestowed the utmost pains in seeing that they are authentic and clearly arranged. The authorities we have consulted, in procuring our facts and data, are very numerous, and it would be only a piece of useless tediousness to enumerate them here.(113)

The general plan which Foster and English followed in preparing their work is indicated in bare outline by the title. The work is divided into four books of considerably varying length, dealing in order with the causes, actors, events, and influences of the recent revolution. In Book I, the authors briefly traced the course of French history during and since the time of Louis XIV as a necessary step toward presenting a clear explanation of the events that had recently taken place. The authors argued that these events would not have been so surprising to Americans if they had been more familiar with French history or had not derived their information concerning it chiefly from English [page 728:] men. Since the authors regarded the recent events as having effected a final emancipation of the producing classes from the chains of both the royalists and the bourgeoisie, they devoted most of Book I to an attempt to show how successive developments in French history had contributed to the ever increasing strength and knowledge of the working man. Hence, they depicted him as striking the blow for his rights in 1848 with a cool determination to accomplish his purpose, rather than with the aimless enthusiasm which had characterized his previous revolutionary activities. Book II consists entirely of biographical data relating to the chief participants in the recent events. Of the three chapters in this brief section, the first is devoted to Louis Philippe and his family, the second to Lamartine, and the third to those leaders, other than Lamartine, who figured prominently in the provisional government of 1848. Among these were Dupont de l’ Eure (who had been chosen to head the government), Arago, Ledru-Rollin, and Louis Blanc. Book III is by far the longest of the four sections and consists almost entirely of a detailed chronological account of the actual events of the Revolution. The authors evidently reproduced most of this material, verbatim, from current newspapers, where the day-by-day developments as reported by eyewitnesses of, the events were copiously and minutely recorded. In Book IV, the authors attempted to sketch very rapidly the repercussions which the Revolution in France had already had, or was likely to have, in other European countries. During the thirty-day [page 729:] period in which their work had been in process of being printed, news had come from other European nations which convinced the authors that a political reorganization of most of Europe was in progress. They maintained, however, that the struggles going on in Germany, Italy, and other continental countries were not so advanced as the struggle in France, and that these countries were a “whole revolution” behind France. The revolutionary movements on the continent, they maintained, were still primarily struggles between the aristocracy and the bourgeoisie. The book closes with a few brief comments on the probable effects which the Revolution would have in Ireland; an intensely partisan blast at England because of her responsibility for Ireland's wretched plight; and a prediction that the eventual separation of the two countries was inevitable.

Although an extremely faulty volume insofar as the interpretation of history is concerned, The French Revolution of 1848 is not without some merit. Its style is clear and vigorous, and, although deficient in artistic unity, is surprisingly well arranged and readable for a work so hastily put together. It contains a number of well-executed engravings by Hinckley from drawings by Darley, Gavarni, and Gilbert — including portraits of some of the leading actors of the Revolution, which give added Interest to the brief sketches of their lives. At the end of the work — accompanying an engraving by Hinckley — the music and words (in French and in English) of Dumas's “Mourir pour la patrie” are [page 730:] printed. Thomas Dunn English was the translator.

The chief fault of The French Revolution of 1848 is the lack of perspective displayed by the authors. In assuming that the working man had at last gained his political freedom and that a monarchical form of government in France was a thing of the past, they had, of course, absurdly overestimated the strength and significance of the movement which they had undertaken to interpret without a sufficient knowledge of the many factors involved. Of course, the authors cannot be blamed for their failure to see clearly the significance of events which were too close to be judged with critical accuracy. But they can be blamed for not withholding judgment on matters which they were not qualified to evaluate, or at least for being so positive in their pronouncements concerning them. Shortly after the advertisement of their book appeared in the newspapers, Foster and English printed, in The John-Donkey, the following brief squib concerning it: “We read an announcement in the daily papers, headed “‘FOSTER and ENGLISH on the French Revolution.’ We hope the Revolution won’t grow restive, and throw these gentlemen into the mud.”(114) If it is permissible to employ the figure in a way evidently not really anticipated by the self-satisfied authors, this eventuality is precisely what came to pass. The Revolution, like a stubborn mount, quickly headed in a different direction [page 731:] from that in which Foster and English had so confidently chosen to guide it, and the two men were rudely unseated. Even before the book was placed on sale, events had occurred in France which Indicated that the people of that country were not yet ready for a truly democratic form of government. By December 10, 1848, they had plainly demonstrated this lack of readiness by overwhelmingly electing to the Presidency of the Second Republic Louis Napoleon — a man about whom Foster and English had spoken slightingly in their book and who was an incorrigible monarchist at heart. Before three years had elapsed, the Second Republic was no more, and, by the time another year had passed, Louis Napoleon had revived the empire and assumed the title of Napoleon III.

The haste with which The French Revolution of 1848 was prepared, however, occasionally resulted in ill-considered statements by the authors on matters concerning which it was unnecessary to defer to the judgment of history. Horace Greeley was quick to point out several examples of this defect when he noticed the book, as follows, shortly after its appearance:

‘FOSTER AND ENGLISH ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION This is the title of a brochure of some 220 pages octavo by Messrs. G. G. FOSTER and THOS. DUNN ENGLISH, narrating the causes and events of the revolution of February. Of course the perfection of history is not to be looked for while the only documents are current statements of the newspapers. The authors have, however, worked up their materials with skill and industry. We regret to see occasional extravagancies and inaccuracies of expression in their pages. [page 732:] For instance, they speak of the “Magnificent Robespierre”! In another place we are told that Ledru Rollin is a “thorough Associationist,” whereas he is simply a “thorough Loco-foco.” So too we are told, that Louis Blanc is a Communist. This is an error which might be pardoned in the haste of a daily newspaper, but it is not excusable in such a work as the present. A communist is one who denies the right of individual property. M. Cabet is a communist, but Louis Blanc does not deny that right. He has some notions inclining to communism, such as that all laborers should be paid equal salaries, but he would maintain individual property.(115)

Foster and English were evidently dissatisfied with Greeley's notice of their book, for on the very day that it appeared in the Tribune, Foster wrote a letter of protest to the editor. Although he pleaded guilty to two of Greeley's charges, Foster apparently felt that Greeley had misrepresented the larger aims of the authors by centering and, enlarging upon minor slips in the book. Foster's letter to Greeley is as follows:

PHILADELPHIA; MAY 17, 1848.

Dear Sir: The casual notice of “The French Revolution of 1848,” in The Tribune today, has not done justice to the purpose nor the sentiments of that “brochure.” It is true that the exaggerated expression respecting ROBESPIERRE, and the error, (a mere slip of the pen,) in regard to LOUIS BLANC, are obnoxious to the censure they receive. But the whole scope and aim of the writers of the book have been to show that that the principles which led to the Recent Revolution in France are not those of Communism and are substantially those of CHARLES FOURIER; and that respect for individual property, and for the rights and interests of the capitalist as well as the laborer, is one of the most Important of those principles. Great pains has also been taken by the writers to separate, as far as possible, [page 733:] the true from the false and the exaggerated, In narrating the events of the Revolution, and divesting them of the high British coloring with which they have for the most part been presented to the American public.

We have shared with The Tribune and every other advocate of the Rights of Labor in the atrocious misrepresentation of a portion of the press, who Industriously confound Communism and Association; but from so able a champion as yourself of the truth in this matter, we had a right to expect liberal treatment.

Pray do me the favor to run your eye over the chapter on the Labor question which I enclose, (it won’t take above five minutes,) and see whether it is either exaggerated or inaccurate.

Yours very sincerely,

G. G. FOSTER.(116)

When Greeley printed Foster's letter on the first page of the Tribune three days afterwards, he also generously reprinted along with it the chapter which Foster had asked him to read cursorily.(117) But Greeley did not retract any remark that he had made concerning the faults of the book, unless his willingness to devote more than a full front-page column to Foster's reply might be construed as a tacit admission that his criticism had been superficial. At any rate, Greeley must have admired Foster's skill as a writer, for on July 8 the latter's lengthy series of sketches entitled “New York in Slices” began to appear in the Tribune.(118) [page 734:]

Although Foster was a writer of unquestionable ability, his character seems to have been weak and unstable. Consequently, the closing years of his life were tragic. It has already been seen from English's testimony that Foster lived beyond his means and that he was careless in regard to money matters. Clearly, this evidence of his instability points to no new development in his character. As early as May 29, 1841, F. W. Thomas had given Poe some interesting information about Foster. “His life,” Thomas had said, “has been excentric [sic] and wild I should judge; he seems careless of money, often in want of it (no sin that!) and I understood that he made his first appearance in St. Louis as a flutist upon which instrument he is a most accomplished performer — I have heard him say that he formerly edited a paper in the south, and furthermore think I have heard him say that he came from the east — He is a short thin man; with a very upright walk — a kind of stage strut — has a large black eye, hooked or rather arched nose, and speaks quick and impulsively — showing his teeth, which are uneven, very much when he speaks — His hair is very black and is turning grey here and there. — He is married and has a wife and child — I believe too that he was once on the stage.” [page 735:] When Poe published his second “Chapter on Autography” in Graham's Magazine for December, 1841, he remarked that although Foster's manuscript evinced “a keen sense of the beautiful” it seemed “to be somewhat deficient in force.”(120) Referring to the fact that Foster's letters were “never so well written in their conclusion as in their commencement,” Poe observed: “We have before remarked that this peculiarity in MSS. is a sure indication of fatigability of temper. Few men who write thus are free from a certain vacillation of purpose.” It was probably fortunate for Poe that he did not act upon a proposal by Foster in 1842 that the two of them should jointly establish a magazine in New York.(121)

Several years before his death on April 16, 1856, Foster forged the name of William E. Burton to no less than four notes totaling thirteen hundred dollars. One Mr. Heyleman of Pennsylvania was also a victim to the extent of three notes amounting to two thousand dollars. Burton supplied Griswold with this information in answer to a letter which he had received from Griswold proposing a plan for Foster's 122 regeneration. Burton was not in favor of prosecuting Foster, but expressed the opinion that there was no way to save him from being sent to prison. Although Griswold and Foster had been friends in their youth, a coolness had later [page 736:] developed between them. Hence, Foster was much moved when, after Burton's prediction had been fulfilled and he had been confined in Moyamensing Prison, he learned of Griswold's interest in his plight. He appealed to Griswold for aid in a pathetic letter written on February 20, 1854,(123) and again in one even more pathetic dated March 12, 1855.(124) Griswold did not abandon his efforts to assist his former friend, and, as English's reminiscences of Foster reveal, was eventually able to procure his release. English's version of the matter is contained in the following observations on Foster's activities after their association as editors of The John-Donkey had come to an end:

Foster vibrated for awhile [sic] between New York and Philadelphia, I think. When I next heard of him, he had fed public scandal by two or three things. Of some of these I say nothing — the man being dead; and speak of one only, the forgery case, for the purpose of doing justice to others.

In that last matter the prosecuting attorney and the judges were equally rigorous and unyielding. The former said, properly enough, that the criminal with brains and education deserved a severer punishment than offenders less gifted; and for a long time stood up against the pressure. Burton, who was the victim, went personally to interfere and urge an abandonment of the proceedings; but in vain. At length Rufus W. Griswold, who was always on hand to serve poor devils of authors in all sorts of scrapes, and in return received abuse and the reputation of a cold heart — Rufus, whom Foster had ridiculed and abused, went so zealously and steadily into the business that a nolle prosequi was entered. I will do Foster the justice to say that he never much abused Griswold after that, thus becoming a bright and shining example in a crowd of ingrates. [page 737:]

Foster had other showy parts, and was a very useful man in the office of a journal, valuable as a literary hack, and clever in his work; but he lacked moral qualities, and died and made no sign at least the sign he made was not good.(125)

Besides sharing in the editorship of a comic journal and in the authorship of a book during 1848, English helped to establish a Sunday newspaper in Philadelphia during August of that year. It was first known as the Sunday Paper and later — after English had disposed of his interest in the paper to Robert F. Christy — as the Sunday Globe. How long English served as editor is uncertain, but he was succeeded by Jacob M. W. Geist, who had previously assisted George Lippard in editing the Quaker City. Although the circulation of the Sunday Globe is said to have risen from 1200 to 20,000 under the editorship of Geist,(126) there is no record of its having survived beyond the year 1852. In his unpublished account of journalism in Philadelphia during the period of his residence there, English recalled how the paper originated: “One day James W. Comfroth who was connected with the Times, Thomas B. Florence, a hatter and Member of Congress from the first District, and myself were lunching together when having nothing else in particular to say, I remarked: — ‘There is room for two Sunday papers; let us start a new one.’ Both of the others agreed to the proposition; and Signor Blitz, the conjurer, who came in at that [page 738:] moment and overheard our talk, said: — ‘I’ll he the first patron; here is five dollars for an advertisement.’ And on the following Sunday the first number was issued.”(127) English's memory of the history of the paper seems to have been decidedly vague, although his recollection of the following “curious incident” in connection with its life is clear enough:

One day, I think a Wednesday, after the first form had come from the press, the compositors struck. It was not about wages, but on account of some unintentional violation of usage or custom. The manner of the men was offensive, and I told them that had they asked in a proper manner, I would have acceded to their demands, as I thought them to be reasonable; but as they had coupled their demands with threats they could go to — the brimstone factory, and I would go to dinner; — which I did. When I came back the cases were deserted by all but one man, named Bonsall, who was quietly distributing type.

“What are you at, Bonsall?” was my question.

“At my work, boss,” he said. “These fellows haven’t gone about things in the right way, and won’t be sustained. I intend to get out this week's paper myself.”

He was a remarkably quick compositor and very accurate, but I thought the thing beyond his power. However, I let him go to work. For the next three days he worked eighteen hours out of the twenty-four, and the paper went to press all right an hour after midnight on Saturday. The next week the men, counseled by their fellows, all came back. I killed the fatted calf, and from that time on we had no trouble. They were very good fellows and had only “kicked before they were spurred.”(128) [page 739:]

By the end of 1848 English had apparently resumed his connections with the theatre in Philadelphia. At any rate, when a new theatre, situated at the corner of Seventh and Chestnut Streets and known as the Athenaeum and National Museum, opened its doors on December 25 of that year, the actress Julia Dean delivered a speech which English had written for the occasion. According to a notice in the Ledger, the new theatre opened “to an excellent audience — the first tier and parquette being two-thirds full, and the upper tiers being crowded to overflowing.”(129) The audience was “pleased with the georgeous character of the decorations”especially with the “abolition of the old system of narrow straight backed benches, and the introduction of comfortable armchairs.” But in spite of this auspicious beginning, the enterprise soon proved to be a complete failure.(130)

In a biographical sketch of her father apparently written in 1886, English's daughter, Alice, stated that her father “was the dramatist for Burton, Foster, Conner and other managers.”(131) As we have previously seen, English had served Frances C. Wemyss in this capacity toward the end of 1843 and during the early months of 1844. But there is no positive proof that he again wrote or adapted plays for any manager prior to 1849. During that year his long, [page 740:] though intermittent, connection with Burton evidently began, and his briefer association with Foster and Conner probably followed shortly thereafter.

When the Athenaeum and National Museum opened on December 25, 1848, there were already three Philadelphia theatres in operation: the Arch, the Walnut, and the Chestnut. By far the most successful of these was the Arch — then under the able management of William E. Burton. Arthur H. Wilson has pointed out that Burton brought more new actors and more new plays to Philadelphia in 1848 than did all the rest of the theatrical managers combined.(132) But Burton was soon to abandon the Philadelphia theatre for the greener pastures of New York. As early as July 10, 1848, he had opened for the first time his Chambers Street Theatre in New York,(133) and, although he did not sever his connections with the Philadelphia theatre until shortly after the end of 1849, the Chambers Street enterprise undoubtedly commanded his chief attention from the very beginning.

According to Charles Durang, E. S. Conner became the lessee of the Arch Street Theatre in Philadelphia near the end of February, 1850, “and advertised for a company to open on the 4th of March.”(134) It was not long, however, before [page 741:] Conner ran into trouble with the stockholders of that theatre.(135) He then proposed to build a new theatre and even went so far as to issue a prospectus of one.(136) But the plan came to nothing, and on July 51, 1851, Conner gave up his lesseeship of the Arch. (137) He was succeeded by Thomas J. Hemphill, who opened the theatre on August 50, 1851, with Charles Burke as stage manager.(138) It may be assumed, then, that if English wrote or adapted plays for Conner he did so within a brief period of about a year and a half. The period of English's association with Joseph Foster was probably even briefer, for the Chestnut Street Theatre seems to have been under his control for only one regular season, beginning in the autumn of 1849.(139) English's connection with the Chestnut Street Theatre, however, may have continued after Foster was no longer manager. It is known that English had some business dealings with James Quinlan,(140) who was the lessee of the Chestnut from 1849 to 1854 and who seems to have been the real manager of the theatre during that period, regardless of whose name was listed as such in the newspaper advertisements.

Although the main period of English's business association with Burton evidently fell during the last years of the [page 742:] actor's life — after English returned from western Virginia in l857it is known that English wrote at least one play for Burton in 1849. It was entitled The Empire of Hayti [sic]; or, King-Craft in 1852. The advertisements in the newspapers of New York, however, indicate that it was referred to in that city only by its secondary title. The .. first performance of the play was scheduled to be given on Monday, October 1, 1849, at the Chambers Street Theatre, where Burton was then acting with his New York company. But on account of the illness of one member of the cast, the play was not presented in New York until Wednesday, October 5. Consequently, the Initial performance of the piece was given by Burton's Philadelphia company at the Arch Theatre, where it opened as originally scheduled on October 2. It ran for three nights in Philadelphia and four in New York.(141)

English's burlesque extravaganza clearly represented an attempt on his part to capitalize the popular interest not only in the comparatively recent revolutionary movements in Europe, but also in two very recent political developments nearer home. On August 26, 1849, the Haitian Negro President, Faustin Soulouque, had assumed the title of 142 Faustin I, Emperor of Haiti.(142) Thus, at a time when [page 743:] Americans, generally, were rejoicing at the news of any success which the downtrodden people of Europe were fortunate enough to achieve at the expense of their despotic ‘governments, they were suddenly confronted on their own side of the Atlantic by a neighboring government of the most despotic kind. Even more recently, a series of diplomatic blunders on the part of William Tell Poussin, French minister to the United States, and Secretary of State John Middleton Clayton had finally culminated in a near rupture between the United States and France.(143) Largely because of allegedly offensive language in two of his communications, the outspoken Poussin had been notified by Clayton on September l4, 1849, of his dismissal by the United States Government. Within another two months the crisis had passed, but when English's play was produced, Poussin had not yet sailed for France, and feeling against him and his country was running high. The whole affair was especially unfortunate in that Poussin, despite his outspokenness, was a recognized friend of American Institutions.

Considered in the light of these political developments, the brief notices of English's play which appeared in the newspapers of New York and Philadelphia will be more intelligible to the present-day reader than they would otherwise be. The following comment appeared in the Morning Express [page 744:] on the day following the first performance of English's piece in New York:

BURTON'S THEATRE — Burton is such a restless genius that he never can remain content with the success of his establishment, and the public have hardly time to get acquainted with the name of one new piece, be it drama, comedy, burlesque, or farce, before another novelty is staring them in the face, and with open hands and pockets demanding their halves and quarters. Last night “King Craft in 1852,” a new peep into futurity, was produced in a real Burton style. An idea may be formed of this piece by the remark that it is founded on the latest political humbug, and the scene laid in the court of the new black Emperor of Hayti. The characters comprise: William Tell Pussy, a very ordinary Ambassador Extraordinary — and all the present crowned and quasi-republican heads in Europe, South America and vicinity, together, it [sic] is a very laughable affair and created much mirth for the audience.(144)

The account in the Herald of the same date gives a better idea of what English's piece was about, although the comments of the reviewer are less favorable:

BURTON'S THEATRE. — There was an unusually crowded house at this neat and well conducted establishment last night, and we suppose it was the expectation of the audience of something exceedingly rich in the extravaganza of the Black Emperor that was the chief attraction. The performance opened with the “Toodles;” Mr. Burton, as Timothy on a bender, fairly winning over the audience to genuine and uproarious laughter. He was called out at the conclusion, and apologized for his unseemly condition, and begged that his friends would keep it a secret from Father Mathew. The Haytian extravaganza was another thing. It opens with a conference between a thimble-rigging necromancer and Mr. William Tell Pussy, who threatens to split this country into ever so many pieces. The thimble rigger gives him a peep into Hayti in 1852. The black Emperor is the last of the monarchs, and the crowned heads of Europe are gathered around him, Queen Victoria bringing up the rear, with Prince Albert, and nine small [page 745:] children and one at the breast, like Mrs. John Rodgers. The deposed monarchs state their complaints, but Victoria dissuades the black Emperor from punishing the Yankees; the deposed theu all agree to come over. The affair winds up with a chorus and a dance, the Emperor, his black court, and their distinguished guests, all joining in. The piece was hissed and one person was singled out as a disorderly, to be expelled. A friend of his appealed to the house, and their cries of “let him alone” prevented an extra scene, and restored order.(145)

Notwithstanding this unfavorable review, the same writer admitted, after the second performance on the following day, that the extravaganza “went off very well, as it is beginning to be more clearly understood.”(146) Both the Herald and the Express, however, disapproved of the manner in which “The only objectionable thing we see in this laughable burlesque, “ said the dramatic critic of the Express, “is the introduction of a very ordinary ambassador extraordinary Sir Wm. Tell Pussy. The delineation is calculated to wound the feelings of an estimable man, — who, even if he has committed a diplomatic blunder, should not be caricatured therefor, on the boards of our theatres, and we think, neither the reputation of the theatre, nor the popularity of the piece would be injured by expunging this caricature. What says Burton?”(147)

In Philadelphia, where J. Dunn, of Burton's Arch Street [page 746:] company, played the leading rôle of Faustin I, the newspaper comments were favorable, though brief. “The Empire of Hayti, or Kingcraft in 1852,” the dramatic critic of the Pennsylvanian observed, “is a most ludicrous extravaganza, full of genuine wit and humor, and an apropos fling of sarcasm at the tottering ‘kingcraft’ of the present.”(148) In reminding his readers of the third performance of “the new successful extravaganza,” the critic of the Daily Sun said that the piece was “witty, spirited and funny enough to own T. DUNN ENGLISH as its father, or we miss our guess.”(149)

Some additional information concerning the nature of this lost play of English's and the size of the cast may be gathered from the following incomplete and not altogether accurate entry by Durang in his exceedingly valuable serial account of the Philadelphia Stage covering this period:

October 2nd, a new extravaganza, written by Thomas Dunn English, Esq., expressly to suit the times, called “The Empire of Hayti; or, King Craft in 1852” — Faustian [sic] I., Emperor of Hayti, and Lord of the Sable Islands, Mr. J. Dunn; Napoleon III., surnamed The Little, Mr. Thayer; Pedro II., surnamed The Simple, Mr. Worrall [sic]; Nicholas I., surnamed The Butcher, Mr. Clarke; Francis Joseph I., surnamed The Baby, Mrs. Clarke; Prince Albert, slightly henpecked, but quite contented, J. L. Baker; Victoria, the last, sensible, but severe, who is not felt when she reigns, but is mist when she mizzles, Mrs. W. H. Smith; The Princess Royal and Prince of Wales, Miss Garvey and Miss Barber; the rest of the royal family, viz: Maude, Alice, Henry, Frederick, William, George, Richard, Elizabeth, Anne, Jane, Arthur, Lewis, Augustus,. Ernest, and last Royal Baby, Misses Cooper, Atkins, [page 747:] Messrs. Lewis, Hemphill, Moore, Charles, Samuels, Misses Wilson, Mars, Wells, Erwin, Mr. Fry, Misses F. Cooper, E. Cooper, and the Last Baby, by an infant of the neighborhood. This was played several nights. It was a hit at England's royalty, through the then prevailing topic of Haytian Negro-ology — emigration for the people of sable coloring being urged.(150)

Although it is probable that English wrote or adapted other plays for Burton during the period from 1849 to 1852, it cannot be proved that he did so on the basis of information now available. To justify the conclusion that he was fairly active as a playwright during this period, however, one need not rely solely on Alice English's statement that he was dramatist for various managers, including Burton, Foster, and Conner. One may find additional proof of his dramatic activity during his last years as a resident of Philadelphia in at least two of his reminiscences which could have related to no other period of his life. Perhaps the most interesting of these sketches is that of Charles Burke, who received extravagant praise from his contemporaries for his histrionic talents.

A Philadelphian by birth, Burke returned to the eastern boards after a long period as a strolling actor in the southern and western parts of the country.(151) During the remaining seven years of his brief life, in which he acted. During the [page 748:] mainly in New York and Philadelphia, Burke built up an envious reputation as one of the country's leading comedians. Although only thirty-two years old when he died after a lingering struggle with tuberculosis, Burke was long remembered by those who had an opportunity to appraise his extraordinary genius. “Charles Burke,” said Joseph Ireland, “was slender in person, almost emaciated, with a countenance that he could render ludicrously grotesque; but he appeared to advantage in a most diversified range of comedy, and was highly artistic and effective. . .,”(152) Burke was idolized by his younger half-brother, Joseph Jefferson, who recalled many years later what an unusual treat it was to observe how skillfully Burke and Burton acted together. “if the scene required that for a time one should be prominent,” said Jefferson, “the other would become the background of the .picture, and so strengthen the general effect; by this method they produced a perfectly harmonious work. For instance, Burke would remain in repose, attentively listening while Burton was delivering some humorous speech. This would naturally act as a spell upon the audience, who became by this treatment absorbed in what Burton was saying, and having got the full force of the effect, they would burst forth in laughter or applause; then, by one accord, they became silent, intently listening to Burke's reply, which Burton was now strengthening by the same repose and attention. I have [page 749:] never seen this element in acting carried so far, or accomplished with such admirable results, not even upon the French stage, and I am convinced that the importance of it in reaching the best dramatic effects cannot be too highly estimated.”(153)

English's reminiscences, written much earlier than Jefferson's, attest not only to Burke's excellence as an actor, but also to the effectiveness with which both he and Burton performed when they were cast in the same play:

Burke was the head of a school. His style of acting was his own. His half-brother, Jefferson, is his disciple, and the best of the latter's efforts remind us of the finish of his prototype, devoid of the genius which animated it. He had all that happy, dumbshow acting, that perfect command and control of the facial muscles, which brought them at any moment to express any emotion; and his whole body was subservient to him. In one character, where he appeared intoxicated in one scene, I remember a habit he had of protruding his boot at the wing before the body came. It always provoked a shout of laughter, for the foot was unmistakeably that of a very drunken man. One almost expected to see the toe of the boot stagger. I do not know whether Jefferson has caught the trick. In burlesque he was perfect. I remember in Clod Meddlenot, in a burlesque upon Bulwer's Lady of Lyons, when Polly Ann is menaced by Beau Santer, with a door-key in lieu of a pistol, and Clod rushes on to receive her fainting form, the expression of Burke's face, and the change of his tone when he discovers the harmless nature of the weapon, were irresistable [sic].

“Your courage is that of the mountebank — not the bravo — Why drat your impudence, it's a key!”

The first night I saw him in this, I was accompanied by a Frenchman, who knew but little English, [page 750:] and had never seen or read the original of the burlesque. To my surprise, I found him laughing convulsively along with the rest. “Ah! said my Gallic companion, when we came out, “zat, is ver fine zhantilman. ‘E ees Fransch acteur, zat do not spik Fransch — zat is so — you baeht!”

Burke differed from Burton entirely, though each was perfect in his way. I have seen them play together, and the comicality of each was heightened by comparison. Burton said of him to me: “He's the first comic actor in the country, with enough in him to set up twenty paid comedians. If he were to go to England, he’d create a furore, to which that of Rice and Charlotte Cushman put together, would be nothing.” But Burke was only an actor. He could take and get everything out of a part, but he originated nothing as a whole. Burton planned parts for playwrights; — suggested characters. Burke planned business, and occasionally suggested situations. I remember taking a play written for him, but which he could do nothing with, and writing it up. He made his character very effective when he took it in hand. By the by, in that same play, there was a female character, who had but a few words to say, but had to look the fine lady of society. It was from her that the swindler, Count Uptosnuph (Burke,) was to steal a pair of diamond bracelets. When we were casting the piece, the stage manager came to me and said: “We can’t get any one for this. It's too big for the little people, and too little for the big people.” I had observed a dancer, known as Miss Malvina, cross the stage during rehearsal, and I said at once: “There's the woman. She’ll do it well. Unless I’m very much mistaken, she has the actress in her.” The part was given to her, and performed admirably. The lady is known to the stage now as Mrs. Florence, and has attained some eminence in her profession.

Burke died young. Had he lived till now, he would have been in the very amplitude of his powers.(154)

It has already been pointed out that James Quinlan guided the wavering fortunes of the Chestnut Street Theatre from 1849 to 1854, although, during part of that period at least, he kept his name more or less in the background. [page 751:] Hence, when English recorded in his reminiscences that he “was writing for the theatre” when he came to know Quinlan through the latter's theatrical connections, he was evidently referring to a period of time falling roughly from 1849 to 1852. It would appear from the following account, however, that English's business dealings with Quinlan were infrequent and, though amusing, not particularly significant:

Now, though I met him a good many times, and transacted a little business with him, I am not sure whether the man's name was James or not. I think it was. If it were Peter it would not matter, or Nicodemus — though it could not be the latter, for who ever heard of an Irishman named Nicodemus?

Quinlan kept a tavern at the corner of Ninth and Market streets, Philadelphia, where a number of actors and actresses boarded, and, as I was writing for the theatre at the time, and had occasion to visit some of these people, I got to know the landlord. From feeding actors for pay, he got to paying them for feed. The Chestnut street Theatre had gone from bad to worse, as a paying property — had descended from Maywood and Rowbotham, with all kinds of stars from Edmund Kean downward, until it became a sort of house-of-call for strolling and experimental managers. Quinlan thought he could make bad worse, and so hired the place, and engaged a company. He succeeded in his efforts pretty well. He knew nothing of the drama, and no more of the business, and he took just enough of advice to perplex him. His notions of actors were peculiar. They were literally “servants” in his eyes. He was quite astonished if the man engaged for leading business could not help the scene-shifters on occasion; and looked upon himself as decidedly wronged if the juvenile lady would not make herself useful in the wardrobe. He was good-hearted enough, and even pleasant in his way; but the actor and actress were “hired people,” and expected to make their money in the way most agreeable to their employer. They did not perceive the fitness of this, and hence at times a little ill blood was developed. . . .

Quinlan once spoke to me about writing a local drama for him. I told him I was open to an offer if the terms suited me.

“Sure authors must live as well as any one else. Do you get me up something that’ll dhraw, I’m willing to pay liberally.” [page 752:]

“Very good. What do you call liberal pay?”

“Faith, I wouldn’t mind paying fifty dollars for a three-act play.” “Fifty dollars! So much!”

“Or say five dollars a night, an’ I call that good wages. Sure you’ll do it in a week — I know you will.”

“I am afraid your terms are not tempting enough. Possibly, if you put another naught after them, I might think of it.”

“Another what? Is it fifty dollars a night you mane?”

“About that.”

“Would you expict to make a fortune off one play? Faith, an’ I can git a hundred better English plays that you, or any one here can write, for half the money. Fifty dol — why, man! do you think you can milk a manager's pockets like a cow?”(155)

English has left other interesting reminiscences of his theatrical friends, acquaintances, and business associates — notably, those of Burton and George Jamieson — but nearly all of them have to do primarily with a later period of his life. His recollections of Thomas D. Rice, however, are an exception, and evidently relate partly to the period now under discussion and partly to a still earlier one. In view of Rice's importance in the development of Negro minstrelsy — a form of entertainment whose history is so inseparably intertwined with that of “Ben Bolt” — no account of English's recollections of the stage would be inclusive enough without the following impressions of Rice's ability as an actor:

There never was anyone so intensely popular as Rice in his “Jim Crow.” I have seen the houses so full, that they overflowed unto the stage, and the actor performed his grotesque antics in the midst of a crowd. But on his “Jim Crow, “ — funny as it was — his real reputation did not rest. He was the most perfect of all stage negroes — not even [page 753:] excepting George Jamieson, in Pete. His walk, tone, dialect, and the articulation of his words, were the exact counterpart of the slave on the Southwestern levee. He unconsciously adopted much of this gait and tone in private life. It was in such parts as Othello, that he displayed his power. It was not a mere burlesque. It was a Southern negro acting tragedy, with a desire to do it in earnest. His —

“Cassio, I lub thee;

But nebber mo’ be ossifer of mine;”

and his

“Farewell! Otello's occupation's gone!” were as perfect bursts of feeling and passion as ever were shown by Kean or Cooke.

Rice once attempted the serious drama. It was after his return from England, when he was playing an engagement in Philadelphia. His benefit was announced, with the play of William Tell. The bills contained the announcement: “What Booth could not do, and Forrest failed in, Rice is about to perform.” The night came, the house was crowded, the curtain rose, and Rice appeared in costume, with a white face. It was a fearfully bad performance, and the audience received it in silence. At length, when Gesler asked Tell where do you live, Rice answered in a rich negro dialect:

“Down in Fofe street,

Opposite de buryim’ ground.”

There was some dissatisfaction, but the hisses were drowned in laughter and applause, and the play went on in broad burlesque’, with Rice taking a bite out of the apple, and other antics, to the close. It was a sorry exhibition, however, and was never repeated.(156)

The resumption of his dramatic work in 1848 or 1849 did not prevent English from contributing to various newspapers and magazines a substantial quantity of fugitive prose and verse. No less than six of his pieces appeared in the Philadelphia Spirit of the Times during the first three months of 1849, and, from the beginning of 1850 to the time of his removal to western Virginia in 1852, he was a frequent contributor [page 754:] to Sartain's Magazine. Among other newspapers and periodicals in which his work occasionally appeared were M’Makin's Model American Courier (Philadelphia), the Salem (Massachusetts) Observer, the Boston Museum, the Southern Literary Messenger, Godey's Lady's Book, and Graham's Magazine.

English's most interesting prose pieces during this period consisted chiefly of biographical sketches of living persons who had attained to various degrees of fame in the realm of politics or the arts. Typical of these is his account of two Hungarian patriots — Count Stephen Szhényi and Baron Nicholas Wesselényi — who, although not nearly so famous as their contemporary, Kossuth, had, in English's judgment, earned a place among the benefactors of mankind by rising above “the prejudices of caste and education,” and by devoting “themselves to the emancipation of the down-trodden, and the progress to liberalism of their beloved country.”(157) Also typical of his prose pieces is his sketch of the Pennsylvania artist Peter Rothermel, in which he combines personal data with a discussion of the varying styles of the artist as exemplified in certain of his individual paintings.(158)

English's verse during this period continued to be chiefly sentimental. His poem “Alice,”(159) although metrically [page 755:] much smoother than most of his earlier verse, approaches the saturation point as far as its appeal to the emotion of mawkish self-pity is concerned. This poem — which is comprised of eighteen six-line stanzas — begins with an aging husband wandering in the woods by the side of a river and reflecting upon his bitter experience in love. Once happiness had seemed to be his destiny:

Pleasure from a crystal chalice

Once I gladly drained;

Lived we in a fairy palace,

Wildest passion, I and Alice;

Every object seemed attained,

Every joy my soul had gained.

While I trusted her, and thought her

Honest as she seemed;

While I fondest worship brought her

And my glowing glances taught her

Of the love which from them gleamed,

I awoke — I had but dreamed.

The lover's dream was rudely shattered when Alice, after bearing his child, ran away with another man, whom he had regarded as a brother. Years of anguish and melancholy brooding followed, but even though his hair eventually became thin and streaked with silver, he still loved his erring wife. At last, just before her death, she returned to seek his forgiveness:

By her death-hour's turbid river

Stood her trembling soul;

And she asked me to forgive her,

By her shame, which would outlive her,

By her anguish past control,

By the hell which was her goal.

How could he refuse this sad request? After he had forgiven her, she begged that his body should finally come to rest by the side of her own. No sooner had he acceded to this second [page 756:] request than Alice asked and won from him still another favorthat he should kiss her before she died:

This I did, and as she started

At my warm lip's touch,

From her form the spirit parted,

Leaving me thus riven-hearted,

Held in Sorrow's iron clutch,

Smiling never, suffering much.

The poem closes as it begins, with the forlorn husband sadly wandering in the woods. But he has actually grown fonder of his sorrows as he continues to reflect upon the past and upon the erring wife whom he had forgiven just before she died. It is difficult to imagine how mawkishness can be carried much farther than this.

Of higher calibre, though not devoid of sentimentality, is “Dora Lee,” a poem from which Griswold quoted a stanza in his anthology to exemplify “in a creditable manner” English's “abilities for description.”(160) Although not in any way similar to “Ben Bolt” in meter, “Dora Lee” calls the earlier poem to mind in that it manifests a similar nostalgic yearning for the scenes and associations of one's youth, which exist only in the memory. The stanza which Griswold quoted and which displays something of the same freshness of description that may be found in “Ben Bolt” is as follows:

Oh, cabin brown! low-roofed and fast decaying!

No kin of mine now dwell within your walls;

Around your ruins now the gray fox straying,

His step arrests, and to his fellow calls.

The waterfall still roars; the stream is flowing

As wildly as it did in other days; [page 757:]

The trees around as loftily are growing;

The mountain seems as mighty to the gaze.

The eagle soars as he was wont, his screaming

Is heard o’erhead, as loudly as when I,

Shading my vision from the sun's hot beaming,

Looked up to note his dark form on the sky.

Yet I shall see him not; nor hill, nor valley,

Nor waterfall, nor river rushing on;

And though they rise around continually,

‘Tis that they are on constant memory drawn.

There are they figured, deeply as an etching,

Marked on soft metal by strong hands, could be;

And in the foreground of that lifelike sketching,

She stands most life-like, — long-lost Dora Lee.(161)

One might naturally suppose that the varied literary activities in which English was engaged during his final years as a resident of Philadelphia would have left him little time to devote to his medical career. Not only, however, was he a practicing physician during part of the period, but for the first four months of 1851 he edited a new semimonthly medical journal entitled The Philadelphia Lancet, which he himself had been chiefly Instrumental in establishing. The earlier numbers of the journal were published by the Philadelphia medical booksellers, John Campbell and Edward S. Power, whose company was known as Campbell and Power. Priced at one dollar per annum, The Lancet was advertised as a journal which would contain “editorial opinions frankly, boldly and decidedly advanced.”(162) In a lengthy editorial in the first number of The Lancet, English explained the general aims of the new publication as follows: [page 758:]

It is due the profession as well as ourselves in thus adding another to the medical journals of the country — that we should state our purpose in journalism. In doing this, it will be necessary to deal in negatives — to state rather that which we shall oppose than that which we shall sustain, for of late years so many ideas — perhaps, valuable in themselves — have become the basis of what are facetiously called systems; so many physicians have mounted hobbles which they back firmly and spur zealously; and so many theories of various degrees of merit have been boldly promulgated and pertinaciously maintained, that a correct standard in medical journalism can only be reached by a fearlessness of denunciation, where our judgment tells us that denunciation is needed.

We shall oppose quackery in any and every place where it may present itself — whether in or out of the profession, and a little more bitterly when it presents itself in a medical man or medical society, than when it appears among the lay public. That it does show itself in the profession frequently, there can be no doubt; and, when we consider the weakness of human nature, it is a matter of wonder that medical men are not given to it more than they are, for many physicians have no idea of the practice of medicine, save as a means of providing bread and butter for their families — making the most sublime of all arts a mere mass of mercury, to form a profitable amalgam with whatever gold it may chance to touch. To such, the great desire the public has for being humbugged, is no small temptation. We frequently see meritorious physicians struggling to procure a reputable practice, and, for years, struggling in vain. While they wait heartsick for that to which their attainments entitle them, some impudent fellow, who, if he have studied his profession at all, has not the brains sufficient to comprehend its great truths, by a bold and dexterous turn, smacking stoutly of empiricism, in a short time amasses a fortune. It is little wonder that many are carried away, under such circumstances, and defile their fingers with the quackery they despise. They may not resort to advertising their merits over their own signatures, but they not unfrequently cause to be published in journals, not addressed to the profession, but the public, accounts of their cases — and coolly obtain “puffs” of their wonderful skill and dexterity from complaisant editors and reporters, easily imposed upon, in a matter of which they are not qualified to judge. If they do not choose this means, there are others equally as disreputable. [page 759:] Among these is the combination of a few medical men to exalt each and all in their set, at the expense of the great mass of the profession. Against all these and any and every mode of quackery, we declare an unreserved and unrelenting war.

We shall oppose all that false reverence for men and cliques, which leads its possessors to denounce every thing which has not received the sanction of that particular physician, who stands as their Magnus Apollo. While we despise the readiness of shallow individuals, who seize upon every innovation as an established good, we are always willing to carefully examine, test and appreciate any proposition theoretically correct, and are willing to add to the resources of the art of medicine, no matter who may suggest it. If a thing be really good, it will make no difference to us whether it originated with a skilful and intelligent physician or a miserable and cunning charlatan; we will subject it to the same scrutiny in either case, and extend to it the favor it deserves. Our object is to aid in the improvement of the profession, and our columns will always be open to well-written communications for that object. Of the merit of these, and their ultimate good or ill effect, we shall be the only judge; and shall exercise the largest responsibility in rejecting whatever we think useless or pernicious. In deciding on what is fit to be placed before our readers, the opinions of any one else will not influence us a jot — and we wish that distinctly understood. We have no reverence for any opinions contrary to our own — although on moot points, which we think legitimate subjects of discussion, our correspondents, over their own signatures, may make themselves as ridiculous as they choose. We have no intention to stifle free discussion, but intend to keep it within decent bounds.

To cut this long thread short — our primary aim is an aggregation of useful facts. We intend to furnish reports of hospital and private cases, at home and abroad; brief original communications, on matters of interest to the profession; translations from the latest foreign medical journals; short analytical reviews of new medical works; and a summary of all that transpires in the profession. We wish to give the practitioner much valuable matter in a condensed form, and shall divest it of mere verbiage. That we shall succeed we feel confident, for we laid the proper foundation to our fabric before we raised the super-structure; and [page 760:] we bring to our task not only our own talents, zeal and industry, be they great or small, but the assistance of others with far more experience and ability than we possess.(163)

Despite the self-confidence exuding from the foregoing editorial, The Philadelphia Lancet could not have been a success. Inasmuch as it expired after a short life of four months, only eight semimonthly numbers appeared all told, the number for April 15, 1851, being the last. That the enterprise turned out to be a financial liability is suggested by the fact that advertisements in the last three numbers indicate that, prior to the publication of the number for March 15, Campbell and Power had ceased to be connected with the magazine. By that time, English had assumed the responsibilities of publication in addition to his editorial duties. Further indication that the undertaking was a financial failure may be found in these same advertisements. In each of them is an announcement by English that he was prepared to give medical instruction to three students in his office at Schuylkill Sixth, near Filbert Street. In addition to thorough periodical examinations, English offered to provide clinical instruction. It was here that the final numbers of the journal were published.

The first five numbers of The Philadelphia Lancet follow much the same pattern, although occasionally there is some slight variation. In the first number are three original communications, Including one by English himself dealing [page 761:] with the treatment of croup with nitrate of silver. English's communication and one of the’others had been read before the Medico-Chirurgical College of Philadelphia — an association of physicians to which English had been elected on August 5, 1848.(164) After the original communications is a report of the clinic of the Philadelphia College of Medicine. Then comes English's editorial explaining the general purpose of the new journal, after which come two pages of advertisements. This order of arrangement, then, is typical of the earlier numbers: first, original communications based on the practical experience of various physicians; second, clinical reports (those of the fourth and fifth numbers being reports of the clinic of the University of Pennsylvania); and third, editorials., By way of variety, the fourth number contains a translation of Sigaud's work, “The Climate and Diseases of Brazil.”

The pattern of the last three numbers differs considerably from that of the first five and is even less varied. There is a long monograph dealing with the anatomy, physiology, and diseases of the human ear, which consumes a considerable portion of these numbers. Although a new section headed “Bibliographical Notices” has been introduced, the clinical reports no longer appear.

Let us now consider briefly several of English's own [page 762:] communications and editorials in order to observe how he sought to achieve some of the aims which he had set forth in his first editorial and in the advertisement of the new journal. As an example of his announced purpose to give his readers reports of private cases, we may take his communication, already referred to, on treating croup with nitrate of silver. This report(165) is based on two of English's own cases, the first of which involved a fourteen-months-old boy whom he had cured of scarlatina, but who had developed an affection of the larynx as a result of the disease. After unsuccessfully employing one method of treatment in an effort to relieve this condition, English determined to try another remedy. “Sending for a stick of whalebone and a piece of sponge,” he said, “I formed a curved probang, by means of which I passed a. spongefull [sic] of a solution of crystallized nitrate of silver, of the strength of sixty grains to the ounce, directly to the larynx.”(166) After, successive applications the patient im- proved rapidly and, at the time English was writing his communication, enjoyed good health. The other case was that of a little girl about thirteen months old, to whom English had successfully applied the same treatment after she had reached the sinking stage. As illustrative of English's promise to offer his readers [page 765:] “editorial opinions frankly, boldly and decidedly advanced,” may be mentioned his defense of the use of the vaginal speculum for the purpose of detecting disorders or diseases of the uterus.(167) He causticly condemned the hypocritical objections of those who were opposed to the proper use of the speculum because of a false sense of delicacy. “The man,” he remarked, “who hesitates to preserve life, or alleviate suffering, through motives of false delicacy, or because some one ha3 previously improperly used his proper means, is either a brainless idiot, or one who, from a thorough self-knowledge, has reasons to doubt his own purity of purpose.”

Two of English's editorials in the fourth number of The Lancet were directed against humbuggery in medicine — one of the evils of the profession which the editor had promised violently to oppose. In one of these English ridiculed the credulity of the public for paying good money to a Philadelphia astrologer who had laid claim to the power of reading the stars and of curing diseases by astrological conjurations.(168) In the other editorial he attacked a supposedly reputable physician for lending his name in support of a quack medicine English mentioned that he had already reprimanded the clergy for such practice, but that he was astonished to find a physician guilty of the same offense. “if professors in our own medical schools,” English observed, “undertake to aid [page 764:] empiricism, in this open way, who can blame the weak fool, led by these recommendations into the gull-traps of panacea makers?”(169)

All in all, The Philadelphia Lancet seems to have been a sensibly designed journal, which the editor sought to direct in accordance with those principles and aims which he had so enthusiastically pronounced at the threshold of his venture. It is quite probable, however, that English's optimistic forecast of certain success was an expression of earnest hope rather than of absolute confidence on his part. His experience with The Aristidean, as well as with the temporarily more successful John-Donkey, must have taught him what a precarious business it was, around the middle of the nineteenth century, for a would-be editor to launch a new magazine with Insufficient capital at his command.

Sometime during the latter half of 1851, the booksellers, John Campbell and Edward S. Power — who had published the earlier numbers of The Philadelphia Lancet — , issued a book entitled Negro-mania.(170) The author and compiler, who was none other than John Campbell himself, undertook to prove by means of copious quotations from numerous writers that the Negro race is, by nature, far inferior intellectually to the Caucasian., Although the author was furiously attacked by the Abolitionists, the December number of De Bow's Review contained a lengthy notice of more than four pages, in [page 765:] which Campbell's work was accorded extravagant praise. “Certainly no southern man,” said the writer of the article, “and few men of the North, looking upon the vehement efforts of the fanatics, would have expected to see a work like ‘Negro Mania’ Issuing from the northern press — a work, which not only overthrows, by a powerful array of facts, the flimsy structure of negro capability, but demonstrates, clearly and incontrovertibly, that the negro race cannot exist alongside of the white except as a tributary caste — in a state of actual slavery, whether so in name or in fact.”(171)

In his introductory chapter Campbell insisted that the white and black races could not “exist together in the same community on terms of equality.”(172) The question of whether such a situation was just or unjust was beside the point, he maintained. For five thousand years, he argued, the Negro race had always “yielded to the superior intellect of the white,”(173) nor had it attained to any degree of civilization worthy of the name at the present time. “Look to the West Indies,” he remarked, “to Brazil, to Australia, to the Gold Coast, to Zanguebar, to Congo, to Senegambia, to Ashantee [sic], nay to the civilization under his imperial highness Faustin the first Emperor of Hayti, and answer me ye Garrisons [page 766:] and Phillipses and Burleys and Folsoms and Smiths, what has this race done in five thousand years?”(174)

Among the opinions of other men which Campbell assembled in support of his main theory were those of Thomas Jeffersop, as recorded in his Notes on Virginia, and of Thomas Dunn English, as expressed in a letter to the author of the book.(175) In fact, English's opinions were given a place of honor I alongside Jefferson's, the whole of Chapter XI being composed of extracts from English's letter and all of Chapter XII being devoted to Jefferson's views. In an introductory note to Chapter XI Campbell referred to English as “Physician inChief to the Western Clinical Hospital; Corresponding Secretary, and Emeritus Counsellor of the MedicoChirurgical College of Philadelphia, and member of various other learned societies.”(176) Although the extracts quoted by Campbell from English's letter are too lengthy to be reproduced here in their entirety, enough will be cited to leave no doubt as to where English stood on the matter of Negro equality. English maintained that “ANATOMY, physiology, and microscopy concur in proving that the Negro is of a distinct and inferior species to the Caucasian”(177) and that isolated instances in the United States of intellectual attainment by [page 767:] the Negro merely prove “the value of Caucasian admixture.”(178) The following passage contains the chief substance of English's views:

Nature has marked by unerring lines, the distinction between the species; and her tokens cannot be wiped out by either the sophistry of the Negro philist, or the cant of the fanatic. The manifest moral, intellectual, and physical inferiority of the Negro issues from the decree of God, which no efforts of man can either alter or abrogate. Even modification must be but partial, at least. It is the destiny of the Negro, if by himself, to be a savage; if by the white, to be a serf. He may be a . savage in name and in fact, as in Africa, or in fact only, as in Hayti; he may be a serf, in name and in fact, as in the Southern States, or in fact only, as in the Northern States; but savage or serf he must be.

No man who values himself, who has any regard for sound morality, or who feels any desire to see intellectual progress made certain, can join in the absurd attempt to raise the Negro to his own level. A movement for such ends is necessarily impotent, and can only result, at the best for the Negro, in the degradation of the white. Kindness to these unfortunate beings is the duty of every man. They may be styled human beings, though of an inherently degraded species. To relieve them of their natural Inferiority is idle of itself, and may be mischievous in its results. Calculated as it is to arouse evil passions, it may one day provoke a necessity, not to be contemplated without horror. It may lead to a war between the species, which will result in the extirpation of the Negro. True philanthropy — not that sickly sentiment which neglects the interest of the white laborer to cant about the black — but a true and honest regard for the best interests of mankind, will maintain the Negro undisturbed in the relation which God has marked out for him.(179)

The extracts from this letter end with English's assertion that “the Negro can never pass beyond barbarism, nor take a higher position than that of an intermediate step, upon [page 768:] which nature advances from the brute to the human being.”(180) It is not surprising, in view of the opinions expressed in this letter, that English's sympathies were entirely with the South in the war which broke out between the States less than ten years later or that, as a leading Copperhead In the legislature of New Jersey, he was outspoken in his opposition to those Northerners who insisted upon continuing the war until the South was defeated.

With the autumn of 1852 the story of English's early career comes to a close. On September 30 of that year he was married in St. Andrew's (Episcopal) Church, Philadelphia, to Annie Eliza Meade, daughter of the late John Maxwell of Philadelphia and widow of the Rev. Samuel Rose Meade. Sometime before the end of the year he removed with his wife and two small stepdaughters, Mary and Ann, to the mountains of western Virginia, where, except for a few brief intermissions, he lived until 1857. His removal to this sparsely settled and then uncultivated region inevitably meant that for a time he would be separated from the varied intellectual life to which he had become accustomed. It therefore marks the beginning of an interlude between the earlier and later periods of his career. [page 769:]

If there is any fact that the present chapter has demonstrated more clearly than any preceding one, it is that English was an exceedingly versatile person. Yet it was this very versatility which was apparently his undoing. By the autumn of 1852 he had traveled many different roads which might have led to renown, but he had followed none of them long enough, patiently enough, or unswervingly enough. Hence his achievement had been but mediocre. It will be recalled that, in his youth, English seemed destined to become a many-sided man. This destiny he had most certainly fulfilled by 1852; and it may be stated here that . no study of his later career will reveal any significant change of pattern, except insofar as time, along with the attendant decay of the vital forces, imposes on every man who lives long enough an increasingly circumscribed way of “life. Even though it must be conceded that the spark of genius was inherently lacking in him, one can but marvel at the genuine talent which he brought to a great variety of undertakings. Had he been able, or willing, to concentrate his talent in a narrower compass, his literary achievement might have been far greater than it was.

At any rate, this view of English's potentialities was evidently held by Augustine J. H. Duganneone of his minor literary contemporaries. Duganne described English as “a most incongruous author” who had “written some of the best things in the language, and some of the worst.”(182) Toward [page 770:] the end of 1851 Duganne's satire on American poets entitled Parnassus in Pillory appeared under the pseudonym of Motley Manners, Esquire. Although it was enthusiastically praised by Sartain as “one of the most brilliant satirical poems that has yet appeared on this side of the Atlantic,”(183) it was not nearly so highly regarded by Griswold. Lowell's A Fable for Critics was the only work of the kind by an American which seems to have met with Griswold's approval. But Griswold was not even willing to rank Duganne's satire on a par with a group of similar American poems, including L. A. Wilmer's The Quacks of Helicon, which he considered to be distinctly inferior to A Fable for Critics.(184) Whatever may belts failings as a satirical poem, however, Parnassus in Pillory contains a passage relating to English which indicates that Duganne was keenly aware of what the subject of his satirical observations had failed to accomplish and why he had not lived up to his capabilities.(185) Inasmuch as Duganne's estimate is eminently just, it will bring to a fitting close the story of English's early career:

Who's next upon the mimic scene? Ah, truly,

‘Twere well, my muse, you come to ENGLISH duly.

Griswold, whose voice in poetry's oracular,

Whose awful fiat stamps each bard's vernacular;

Griswold opines that TOM yclept.”The Rhymer,”

On steep Parnassus yet may be a climber,

And proves by one most nautical “Ben Bolt,” [page 771:]

That “Donkey-John”'s of Pegasus a colt;

I’ll not deny — for they may read who run —

That by DUNN ENGLISH is the English done;

His “Bolt” may bar Griswoldian criticism,

But I must scan him through a Satire's prism;

So without gloves, and yet no thought to knuckle,

With “Don Key Haughty” for a space I’ll buckle.

This “Rhymer's” critic-lash, in sooth they tell us,

Cuts like a knout(i’ faith, my muse grows jealous;)

Surnamed “The Bitter” he — his threatening growl,

Greeting young Orpheus like a Cerberushowl

(Young Orpheus fresh from college or the counter,

With harp in hand, to catch a muse and mount her;)

A critic he, whose “cutandslash” is mighty,

A bard whose flights it must be owned are flighty;

A dramatist whose tragic muse has flitted,

Proud o’er the pitbut only to be pitied!

I pr’ythee, Tom, what mill supplies thy paper?

What gashouse furnishes thy “midnight taper?”

Hast thou Briareus’ arms, or, with antennae,

Dost grasp a thousand pens, to turn a penny?

I heard a speech today’ twas ENGLISH wrote it,

The journal's leader they from ENGLISH quote it;

I bought a book DUNN ENGLISH on the cover;

I sung a song — lo! ENGLISH as a lover.

Lawyer, and doctor, farmer, bard, and playwright,

O, motley Tom! in one thing, pr’ythee, stay right!

Waste not thyself pursuing shadowy vapors,

Cut not thy real work — but cut thy capers!

Shape for thy Future's years some work whose might

Shall mock the tasks which now thy powers invite;

Strike the brave harp for men — or break its strings;

For Heaven hears only when a full heart sings.


[[Footnotes]]

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 671:]

1. Copy of a letter from Robert J. Walker to the Collector of Customs in Philadelphia, June 21, 1845, Collectors Small Ports, No. 9, Set G, Record Group 56, Records of the Department of the Treasury, National Archives Building, Washington.

2. Philadelphia Spirit of the Times, April 5, 1847, p. 2, col. 3. Brief notices of Robert English's death may also be found in the Public Ledger and in the Pennsylvania Inquirer and National Gazette of the same date.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 672:]

3. “Memorabilia Fragments,” p. 5

4. Ibid.

5. Walter Woolfe; or, The Doom of the Drinker (New York, 1847) and 1844; or, The Power of the “S. F.” (New York, 1847).

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 674:]

6. William s. Hunt, “The Story of a Song,” Proceedings of the New Jersey Historical Society, LI (January, 1933), 30.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 675:]

7. “Memorabilia Fragmenta,” pp. 67-68.

8. “Ben Bolt,” Harper's Weekly, XXXVIII (July 21, 1894), 682.

9. Ibid.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 676:]

10. Various editions of Kneass's so-called composition may be examined in the Music Division of the Library of Congress.

11. The first edition of Getze's arrangement may be examined in the Music Division of the Library of Congress.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 677:]

12. VI, 167.

13. Op. cit., p. 29.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 678:]

14. See advertisements in the Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal for April 30, 1847 (p. 2, col. 6) and for May 1 (p. 2, col. 4).

15. Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal, June 2, 1847, p. 2, col. 3.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 679:]

16. Odell, Annals of the New York Stage, IV, 670, 685, 685.

17. Ibid., V, 72.

18. Ibid., p. 95.

19. Ibid., p. 153.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 680:]

20. There are many slight variations of these lines.

21. Carl Wittke, Tambo and Bones (Durham, North Carolina, 1930), p. 23. Wittke admits, however, that Cincinnati and Pittsburgh “have had their supporters on the question of where the act was first presented.”

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 681:]

22. Robert P. Nevin, “Stephen C. Foster and Negro Minstrelsy,” The Atlantic Monthly, XX (November, 1867), 611.

23. Ibid.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 682:]

24. In a signed communication appearing in the Cincinnati Daily Enquirer (September 4, 1847, p. 5, col. 7) after he had ceased to represent the Sable Harmonists, Hunt stated that he had been connected with the group “for the past two years.”

25. Both Gustav Kobbé and William S. Hunt mistakenly assert that one A. M. Hunt gave the mutilated stanzas to Kneass. See, respectively, “Some Famous American Songs II. — ‘Ben Bolt,’” The Delineator, LXVII (May, 1906), 881, and “The Story of a Song,” op. cit., p. 30.

26. See the Cincinnati Daily Enquirer (April 1, 1847, p. 2, col. 7) and the Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal (May 13, 1847, p. 2, col. 6). In each of these advertisements Frederick Hunt is mentioned as the agent of the Sable Harmonists.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 683:]

27. Cincinnati Daily Enquirer, March 16, 1847, p. 3, col. 1.

26. Ibid., March 17, 1847, p. 3, col. 1.

29. Ibid.

30. Ibid., April 13, 1847, p. 3, col. 1.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 684:]

31. Ibid., March 29, 1847, p. 3, col. 1.

32. Ibid., March 31, 1847, p. 3, col. 1.

33. Ibid., April 8, 1847, p. 3, col. 1.

34. Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal, April 19, 1847, p. 2, col. 6.

35. Ibid., April 24, 1847, p. 2, col. 5

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 685:]

36. P. 2, col. 3.

37. Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal, April 30, 1847, p. 2, col.

38. See letter from Henry Bendall to Thomas Dunn English, February 16, 1853, as quoted by English in “The Authorship of ‘Ben Bolt,’” Richmond Enquirer, May 31, 1853, p. 2, col. 3. Hunt was by this time local editor of the Cincinnati Nonpareil. He was later connected with other Cincinnati papers.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 686:]

39. A play entitled The Battle of Buena Vista was presented for the first time in New York on May 10, 1858 (Odell, Annals of the New York Stage, VII, 60), but there is no evidence whatever to indicate that it had any connection with the earlier play bearing the same title.

40. Pittsburgh Morning Post, May 7, 1847, p. 2, col. 4; May 8, p. 2, col. 2.

41. Ibid., May 11, 1847, p. 2, col. 5.

42. Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal, May 14, 1847, p. 2, col. 5.

43. Ibid., May 15, 1847, p. 2, col. 1.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 687:]

44. Ibid., May 17, 1847, P. 2, col. 6.

45. Ibid., June 2, 1847, P. 2, col. 3.

46. Ibid., July 2, 1847, p. 2, col. 3.

47. Ibid.

48. Ibid., June 2, 1847, p. 2, col. 3; January 6, 1848, p. 5, col. 7.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 688:]

49. Memorabilia Fragmenta, p. 68.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 689:]

50. Foster was nicknamed “Gaslight” as a result of his having published a series of sketches entitled New York by Gaslight.

51. Frank Luther Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850 (Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1958), p. 425.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 690:]

52. English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VIII (October, 1870), 782.

53. Prospectus of The John-Donkey, Broadside Collection, Library of Congress. The Library of Congress possesses two copies of this broadside.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 692:]

54. The John-Donkey, I (January 1, 1846), 16.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 693:]

55 Smyth, The Philadelphia Magazines and Their Contributors, p. 235.

56. Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850, p. 780.

57. Smyth, The Philadelphia Magazines and Their Contributors, p. 6.

58. Ibid., p. 255.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 694:]

59. Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850, p. 780.

60. Smyth, The Philadelphia Magazines and Their Contributors, p. 255. Augustine J. H. Duganne remarked in 1851 that English had been the principal writer for The John-Donkey. See Parnassus in Pillory. A Satire (New York, 1851), p. 85, n. 11.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 696:]

61. For Information in this paragraph and in the following one concerning English's relations with Darley, see Thomas Dunn English, “Felix O. C. Darley, Sartain's Magazine, VII (November, 1850), 509312.

62. Ibid., pp. 309-310.

63. Ibid., p. 310.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 697:]

64. Ibid., p. 511.

65. Ibid.

66. Ibid., p. 512.

67. Ibid.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 699:]

68. The John-Donkey, I (January 22, 1848), 64.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 700:]

69. Pittsburgh Daily Commercial Journal, January 11, 1846, p. 2, col. 3.

70. Philadelphia Pennsylvanian, March 16, 1848, p. 3, col. 1.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 701:]

71. Quoted from the New York Sunday Mercury in The John-Donkey, I (January 22, 1848), 64.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 704:]

72. “The John-Donkey to His Brother, the Public,” The John-Donkey, I (January 1, 1848), 3.

73. Ibid.

74. “The President's Message,” ibid., pp. 67.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 703:]

75. Ibid., p. 6.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 704:]

76. Preface to “The Untranslated Don Quixote,” ibid., I (January 8, 1848), 1.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 707:]

77. “The Adventures of Don Key Haughty,” ibid., I (February 12, 1848), 99-100.

78. Ibid., pp. 100-101.

79. Ibid., p. 101.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 708:]

80. Ibid., I (February 19, 1848), 115.

81. Ibid., I (February 26, l848), 155.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 708:]

82. “A Nice Job,” ibid., I (January 1, 1848), 3.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 710:]

83. “Mr. Edgar A. Poe,” ibid., I (January 8, 1848), 27.

84. The John-Donkey, I (March 18, 1848), 191.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 711:]

85. Ibid., I (June 1848), 364.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 714:]

86. The Town, I (May 17, 1845), 166.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 713:]

87. The John-Donkey, I (June 17, 1848), 389.

88. “Bad in Either,” ibid., I (February 5, 1848), 96.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 714:]

89. The John-Donkey, II (August 12, 1848), 67.

90. Ibid., I (March 25, 1848), 208; I (April 1, 1848), 224.

91. Ibid., I (April 8, 1848), 240; I (April 15, 1848), 256.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 715:]

92. English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VIII (October, 1870), 783.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 716:]

93. See The John-Donkey, I (April 22, 1848), 265.

94. Ibid., I (June 24, 1848), 408.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 717:]

95. Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850, pp. 782-785.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 718:]

96. The John-Donkey, I (May 15, 1848), 517; I (May 20, 1848), 528.

97. Philadelphia Pennsylvanian, September 22, 1848, p. 2, col. 7.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 711:]

98. “Valedictory,” The John-Donkey, II (October 21, 1848), 124.

99. Smyth, Philadelphia Magazines and Their Contributors, p. 255.

100. Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850, p. 782.

101. George Zieber's name is not listed in the Philadelphia directories after 1849 in connection with the company in question.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 721:]

102. English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VIII (October, 1870), 782-785.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 724:]

103. See second advertising page (not numbered) at the end of the first number of the second volume of The John-Donkey (July 1, 1848).

104. New York Daily Tribune, February 10, 1848. p. 1, col. 2.

105. See second advertising page (not numbered) at the end of the first number of the second volume of The John-Donkey (July 1, 1848). I have not had access to a file of the Brooklyn Eagle, and have therefore been unable to establish whether this Whitmanesque comment appeared before or after Walt Whitman broke with the Eagle early in 1848.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 723:]

106. Duganne, Parnassus in Pillory, p. 85, n. 11.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 724:]

107. New York Herald, March 26, 1848, p. 2,.col. 1.

108. Ibid., March 31, 1848, p. 2, col. 1.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 725:]

109. Ibid., April 5, 1848, p. 2, col. 1.

110. New York Tribune, April 5, 1848, p. 5, col. 4.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 726:]

111. George G, Foster and Thomas Dunn English, The French Revolution of 1848: Its Causes, Actors, Events and Influences (Philadelphia, 1848), p. 183.

112. The book was on sale in New York no later than May 12, 1848. See the list of books offered for sale at Major Jones’ establishment (New York Tribune, May 12, 1848, p. 3, col. 5).

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 727:]

113. Foster and English, The French Revolution of 1848, p. [3].

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 732:]

114. “Literature on Horseback,” The John-Donkey, I (April 8, 1848), 237.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 732:]

115. New York Tribune, May 17, 1848, p. 2, col,. 4.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 733:]

116. Letter from George G’. Foster to the Editor of the Tribune, May 17, 1848, as printed in the New York Tribune, May 20, 1848, p. 1, col. 3.

117 New York Tribune, May 20, 1848, p. 1, cols. 34.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 733, running to the bottom of page 734:]

118. See “Slice 1 — The Immigrants,” New York Tribune, July 8, 1848, p. 2, col. 2. The fact that these sketches began to appear in the Tribune on July 8 may mean that Foster's connection with The John-Donkey ceased with the completion of the first volume of that periodical on June 24 and that thereafter English was the sole editor. English said that Foster's series of sketches [page 734:] had been suggested by some of his own entitled “New York in Spots,” although he acknowledged that the two series were not at all alike. See English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VIII (October, 1870), 782. I have not succeeded in locating English's sketches.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 734:]

119. Photostat of Original Autograph MS. in the Griswold Collection, Boston Public Library.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 735:]

120. Works, XV, 257.

121. See Poe's letter to F. W. Thomas, September 12, 1842, Letters, I, 212.

122. See letter from William E. Burton to Rufus W. Griswold, January 12, 1854, as quoted in Passages from the Correspondence of Rufus W. Griswold, p. 292.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 736:]

123. Passages from the Correspondence of Rufus W. Griswold, p. 294.

124. Ibid., p. 298.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 737:]

125. English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VIII (October, 1870), 783-784.

126. “Jacob Miller Willis Geist,” The National Cyclopaedia of American Biography, V, 592.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 738:]

127. “Memorabilia Fragmenta,” p. 63. Earlier in 1848, the Sunday Dispatch had been established in Philadelphia.

128. Ibid., p. 64. There is no extant copy of any number of the Sunday Paper and only one of a single issue of the Sunday Globe. This lone copy, dated September 15, 1850, is owned by The Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 739:]

129. Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 27, 1848, p. 2, col. 2.

130. See Arthur H. Wilson, A History of the Philadelphia Theatre, 1835-1855 (Philadelphia, 1935), p. 34.

131. Photostat of Original Autograph MS. owned by Otto Eisenschiml, Chicago.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 740:]

132. Wilson, A History of the Philadelphia Theatre, 1835-1855, p. 55.

135. William L. Keese, William E. Burton, Actor, Author, and Manager (New York and London, 1885), p. 56.

134. Charles Durang, “The Philadelphia Stage from the Year 1749 to the Year l855,” Third Series, Philadelphia Sunday Dispatch, June 1, 1862, p. 4, col. 4.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 743:]

135. Wilson, A History of the Philadelphia Theatre, 1835-1855, p. 38.

136. Ibid.

137. Ibid., pp. 59, 41.

138. Ibid., p. 4l.

139. Ibid., p. 56.

140. English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VIII (August, 1870), 607-609.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 742:]

141. For information in this paragraph pertaining to English's play, see the New York Tribune, October 1, 5, 4, 5, and 6, 1849; the New York Herald, October 2; the Philadelphia Pennsylvanian, October 2 and 5; and the Philadelphia Daily Sun, October 4.

142. See Harold P. Davis, Black Democracy; the Story of Haiti (rev. ed.; New York, 1936), p. 121.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 743:]

143. For information in this paragraph concerning “The Poussin Affair,” see Mary Wilhelmine Williams, “John Middleton Clayton,” in The American Secretaries of State and Their Diplomacy, edited by Samuel Flagg Bemis (10 vols.; New York, 1927-1929), VI, 1951.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 744:]

144. New York Morning Express, October 4, 1849, p. 2, col. 5.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 745:]

145. New York Herald, October 4, 1849, p. 4, col. 1.

146. Ibid., October 5, 1849, p. 4, col. 5.

147. New York Morning Express, October 8, 1849, p. 2, col. 4.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 746:]

148. Philadelphia Pennsylvanian, October 3, 1849, p. 5, col. 1.

149. Philadelphia Daily Sun, October 4, 1849, p. 2, col. 3.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 747:]

150. Durang, “The Philadelphia Stage from the Year 1749 to the Year 1855,” Third Series, Philadelphia Sunday Dispatch, June 1, 1862, p. 4, col. 2. Faustian and Worrall are misspellings for Faustin and Worrell, respectively.

151. Edwin Francis Edgett, “Charles Burke,” Dictionary of American Biography, III, 28l.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 748:]

152. Joseph N. Ireland, Records of the New York Stage from 1750 to 1860 (New York, 1867), II, 194.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 749:]

153. Joseph Jefferson, The Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson (New York, 1890), pp. 108-109.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 750:]

154. English, “Down Among the Dead Men,” The Old Guard, VII (January, 1870), 28-29.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 752:]

155. Ibid., VII (August, 1870), 607-609.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 753:]

156. Ibid., VIII (January, 1870), 29.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 754:]

157. English, “Szechényi and Wesselényi,” Sartain's Magazine, VII (September, 1850), 174-177, esp. 177

158. English, “Peter F. Rothermel,” Ibid., X (January, 1852), 1516.

159. Graham's Magazine, XXXV (October, 1859), 200.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 756:]

160. Griswold, The Poets and Poetry of America (l6th ed.; Philadelphia, 1855), p. 576.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 757:]

161. English,. “Dora Lee,” Sartain's Magazine, X (April, 1852), 292.

162. The Philadelphia Lancet, I (January 1, 1851), 11.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 760:]

163. “Our Aims and Purpose,” ibid., p. 10.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 761:]

164. Constitution, Bylaws, Charter, &c., of the Medico Chirurgical College of Philadelphia (Philadelphia, 1854), p . 14.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 764:]

165. English, “Croup Treated with Nitrate of Silver,” The Philadelphia Lancet, I (January 1, 1851), 56.

166. Ibid., p. 6.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 763:]

167. The Philadelphia Lancet, I (February 1, 1851), 22.

168. Ibid., I (February 15, 1851), 27.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 764:]

169. Ibid., p. 28.

170. John Campbell, Negro-mania (Philadelphia, 1851).

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 765:]

171. “Equality of the Races — Negro Mania,” De Bow's Review of the Southern and Western States, XI (December, 1851), 632.

172. Campbell, Negro-mania, p. 6.

173. Ibid.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 766:]

174. Ibid., p. 7.

175. I am indebted to Professor Carl Bode of the University of Maryland for calling my attention to Campbell's book and to the extracts from English's letter reproduced therein.

176. Campbell, Negro-mania, p. 430.

177. Letter from English to John Campbell, n. d., as quoted in Negro-mania, p. 430.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 767:]

178. Ibid., p. 431.

179. Ibid., pp. 431-432.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 768:]

180. Ibid., p. 433.

181. Records of St. Andrew's (P. E.) Church, Philadelphia, 1825-1905, Collections of the Genealogical Society of Pennsylvania, The Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 769:]

182. Duganne, Parnassus in Pillory, p, 85, n. 11.

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 770:]

183. “Our Library Table,” Sartain's Magazine, IX (December, 1851), 500.

184. Biographical sketch of Augustine J. H. Duganne in The Poets and Poetry of America (l6th ed.; Philadelphia, 1855), p. 536.

185. Duganne, Parnassus in Pillory, pp. 20-22.


∞∞∞∞∞∞∞


Notes:

None.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

[S:0 - EPLCTDE, 1953] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Bookshelf - The Early Political and Literary Career of Thomas Dunn English (Gravely)