This article examines the careers of three mid-century performers, the Americans Charles Browne and P. T. Barnum, and the Englishman Albert Smith. Their appearances at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly offer an alternative account of transatlantic cultural exchange to that developed through legitimate theatre. The theatre of display, parody, comedy, and fraud that they established negotiated the complex cultural and political tensions and borrowings between Britain and America in the period leading to and including the Civil War.
The American humorist Charles Browne visited London in November 1866 to perform his comic lecture "Artemus Ward Among the Mormons" at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly. The show was a version of a popular travelogue panorama, purporting to describe experiences of Utah and encounters with Mormonism, but it burlesqued the form through deadpan comedy, non sequiturs and absurdity, deliberately shoddy artwork in the panorama, and inept musical accompaniment. It was popular enough for the lecture to be published later in book-form, with the illustrations of the show and detailed indications of pauses and stage business, but the publication was posthumous. Browne was taken ill in January 1867, forcing him to end the show's run prematurely, and he died in Southampton two months later. Where Browne's panorama is mentioned in histories of Victorian performance it is usually as an eccentricity--Richard Altick, for example, refers to it as "presumably the first and last of its kind." (1) However, I want to argue that Browne's visit is significant in more substantial ways. First, it offers an insight into the cultural transactions of Britain and America at a time of political crisis for the latter and of the intensification of the development of mass culture in the former. Secondly, it forms part of a little-studied tradition of transatlantic exchange that worked outside of dominant literary and theatrical modes. Such genres as the popular lecture, the minstrel show, and travelling exhibitions were staged in venues other than legitimate theaters and the developing music halls, and they offer a different perspective upon the course of popular entertainment in the mid-century. The comic performances of Browne and his precursors provided a sophisticated subversion of the educative and improving premise of the nineteenth-century public lecture, offering instead frequently ambivalent commentaries upon contemporary approaches to culture and its transmission. This essay explores the political and cultural context and history of Browne's visit and sets his comic panorama alongside the performances of two other comic lecturers who also occupied the strange stage of the Egyptian Hall, the American showman P.T. Barnum and his English protege Albert Smith.
It was P.T. Barnum who most ostentatiously and controversially initiated the collisions and collusions that were to characterize the relationship between American and British popular culture in the mid-nineteenth century. (2) In the early 1840s, he had consolidated a career as an inventive and opportunistic showman by opening his American Museum in New York, and by promoting his most successful "attraction" to date, the midget "General" Tom Thumb. The radicalism of Barnum's redefinition of American culture within the changing displays and theaters of the Museum has been recently emphasized by Bluford Adams, (3) and it was this energy of populist-capitalist transformation of culture and spectacle that Barnum sought to export to Europe when he brought Tom Thumb to England in 1844. The English journalist Albert Smith's contemporary account of that visit gives a good sense of the impact of Barnum's radical entrepreneurialism, and of the wider fascinations and prejudices that characterized British responses to America in the period. During a "go-a-head day" in the Midlands, the sardonic Smith is exposed to Barnum's American challenge to British cultural hierarchies, beginning with their sacred center, Shakespeare. Commenting that "[i]f he'd been a living author, and I'd had my exhibition, I'd have backed the general to have him shut up in a week," (4) Barnum goes on to offer a portrait of Tom Thumb to Shakespeare's birthplace museum, place the midget's visiting cards on the Shakespeare monument, and hatch a scheme to buy the birthplace and transport it to America. The showman's calculated cultural sacrilege is both mocked and savored by Smith, who reports Barnum's attempts to buy the contents of Warwick Castle and records his description of St. Paul's Cathedral as a religious peep show without demur. The second half of the "go-a-head day" contains further cultural challenges. From the heritage of Stratford, Barnum and Smith travel to the real peep shows of the fairground booths attached to Warwick racecourse. Here Barnum displays his knowledge of local freaks, attempts to pass himself off as a "working-person" to get into a show more cheaply, secures the services of a Leicestershire giant, and buys a "wandering exhibition of animals of dissimilar habits all in one cage." (5) "[H]e bought everything everywhere," declares Smith, "and it was all for the American Museum." (6)
In Smith's essay, Barnum is a force of relentless and indiscriminate accumulation, an individual economy of consumption and spurious manufacture. During the day-trip, he effectively abolishes divisions of taste, history, and classification, constructing instead a populist fairground of display and wonder in which objects of cultural value are transformed into commodities of commercial exchange. The American Museum--and by extension America itself--becomes a place in which the contents of Warwick Castle and a travelling menagerie have equal status. For Barnum, there is no value beyond spectacle and no differentiation of quality in spectators' gazes. The issue is only the number of spectators and their willingness to pay. This cultural challenge posed by Barnumite America in Britain was famously dramatized in the Egyptian Hall during the 1840s tour. Since the 1820s, the Egyptian Hall had presented a variety of competing and culturally anomalous performances and displays on its various stages, acting as the nearest equivalent in London to Barnum's own New York Museum, and it was here that Barnum set his populist hucksterism against English aesthetics.
The carefully marketed tour of General Tom Thumb culminated in staged theatrical "levees" where the General performed sketches and bantered with the audience. His shows coincided with an exhibition of paintings on classical and political themes by the British artist Benjamin Robert Haydon, and if Barnum and the General didn't have the opportunity to close Shakespeare, they were certainly able to close Haydon. The great popularity of the midget contrasted with and contributed to the disastrous failure of his exhibition, a failure which led to his suicide in June 1846. Haydon's journal account of the "contest" in the Egyptian Hall, published in the Illustrated London News in the week following his death, is a passionate description of personal catastrophe and of a cultural collapse that he perceived Barnum and America precipitating in Britain:
They rush by thousands to see Tom Thumb. They push, they fight, they scream, they faint, they cry help and murder! and oh! and ah! They see my bills, my boards, my caravans, and don't read them. Their eyes are open, but their sense is shut. It is an insanity, a rabies, a madness, a furor, a dream. I would not have believed it of the English people. (7)
For Haydon, and for his obituarists, the America of Barnum was an infection that threatened both national aesthetics and national reason.
The extraordinary confrontation in the Egyptian Hall and its aftermath, a melodramatic tableau of transatlantic difference and mortal danger, lingered in the memory of British commentators, even as the lessons of Barnum's triumphant marketing and transformation of cultural value were being learned and exploited--not least by his sceptical partner on the "go-a-head day" in Warwickshire, Albert Smith. In 1855, when Barnum published the first of his frequently revised autobiographies, Fraser's Magazine was still able to use the showman as a representative of a powerful cultural threat. "Can it be," a reviewer asks, "that 'Barnumism' has been spreading silently and widely among us, and that in the domain of art the pitiable trickeries of the showman are taking the place of painstaking endeavour and conscientious work?" (8) Evidence of the incorporation of Barnumism within British culture was, however, plentiful. One example of it was the warm reception accorded its inventor when he returned to Britain in 1858. Although bankrupt and desperate, Barnum, in a characteristically audacious maneuver, presented lectures on the art of money-making. (9) The Times reported that "hundreds of people pressed one after another into the [St. James's Hall]," and, whilst calling the event "an apotheosis of notoriety," nonetheless praised the performance as masterly. "Whether a huge multitude applauding an orator for a deliberate panegyric of 'humbug' may be considered as a sign of the high moral state of a nation is a point we will not here discuss," it declared, picking up the fears of Fraser's Magazine, before going on to acknowledge the effectiveness of Barnum's rhetoric and comedy: "He has at command a fund of dry humour that convulses everybody with laughter, while he himself remains perfectly serious." (10) As his tour progressed, Barnum introduced into his lecture a Bavarian minstrel band and also displayed one of his most notorious past hoaxes, the "Feejee Mermaid." The additions served to shift even further the witty capitalist encomium that the Times compared to Poor Richard's Almanack towards a knowing theater of deceit and self-advancing parody. The bankrupt Barnum exploited an appetite for irony in an audience that had become well-aware and supportive of his brazen strategy. The aging mermaid now acted as an example of trickery, rather than a trick itself, and the Bavarian band pointed up the popular theater of Barnum's capitalist teaching. He not only broke down the demarcations of learning and entertainment in such lectures, but he also made the process of deception and advertisement that had underpinned his past successes the subject and the object of his rhetorical display. The apotheosis of notoriety had made himself his own novel commodity, and, as Charles Browne was to do eight years later, made a performance out of deconstructing a performance.
Barnum's self-referential, parodic theater was enacted in a London which had already registered a native development of Barnumism in the great success of the Egyptian Hall travelogues of his English collaborator, Albert Smith. Smith's lectures on his ascent of Mt. Blanc and travels in Europe, Turkey, and China were basically versions of the quasi-scientific travel panoramas that had been a staple of the Hall's programs for thirty years, and which Charles Browne was to parody on his visit. (11) However, it was Barnum's skills in promoting and commodifying performance that secured Smith his remarkable success in the 1850s. The artefacts, illustrations and informative lectures that were the main constituents of earlier panorama shows were transformed by Smith into fast-moving, ironic theater. He remarked that "modern investigation has proved that a quarter of an hour of a Moving Panorama is a sufficient infliction upon its inoffensive spectator," (12) and this breezy insouciance characterized a performance that presented bathetic rather than romantic accounts of the foreign place. Smith's light-hearted travelogues ("simply an agreeable rattle," one contemporary reviewer termed them (13)) insistently debunked the exotic and maintained a bantering mockery of the business and characters of travel. But, like Barnum, he tempered the trivial with a meticulous sense of marketing and presentation. He cultivated a fashionable audience through royal patronage, and in his program insisted upon conduct expected at "an Evening Concert, or the Opera," (14) whilst at the same time developing a playful, knowing parody of his genre. The room in the Egyptian Hall was made into an elaborate imitation of a foreign place through an American Museum of "authentic" objects, and, as his success grew, he produced spoof Mt. Blanc newspapers and Mr. Blanc boardgames, extending his theater into a culture of commodity. His audiences were thus encouraged to view travel as an ironic process of cultural consumption, and Smith's friend Edmund Yates' comment on the first Thomas Cook tours to Chamonix suggests his success in this--the tourists, he wrote, "compare every place they are taken to with the views which formed part of the exhibition at the Egyptian Hall." (15) Smith's success suggests the incorporation of Barnum's strategies of performance and presentation within British metropolitan culture, but it also marks a two-way transatlantic traffic, for it was to the example of Albert Smith, as well as that of his fellow American Barnum, that Charles Browne turned in his promotion of the Mormon lecture, and it is to Browne's transatlantic career and reception that I now want to turn.
Charles Browne first achieved success as an essayist for the Cleveland Plain-Dealer and as editor of New York's Vanity Fair in the late 1850s, developing the comic persona of the Indiana waxworks showman "Artemus Ward." Ward combined, in the words of Browne's manager, E.P. Hingston, "the shrewdness of a Barnum ... with the stupidity of an uneducated itinerant exhibitor, who had gained his experience by roughing it in the West ... on the outer edge of civilization," (16) and his grotesquely misspelt letters describing his travels before and during the Civil War mixed broad comedy with social and political observation. The pieces were widely syndicated in the American press, and were collected as Artemus Ward, His Book (1862), an edition of which was published in London in 1865. During the Civil War, Browne began performing comic lectures on the East Coast lyceum lecture circuit, before resigning his Vanity Fair post and touring his act in the developing towns of the West. One critic has described Browne as "the first stand-up comic," (17) and his act did depart from the conventions of theatrical comedy as much as it did from the standard platform lecture. Abandoning the showman guise, Browne delivered deadpan a sequence of irrelevant asides, puns, and self-deprecating comments on his own performance, rarely referring to the announced subject of the lecture, and thereby entering what his manager termed "unoccupied ground ... there was no-one who ventured to joke for an hour before a house full of people with no aid from scenery or dress." (18)
After touring the West, Browne wrote the more structured mock lecture "Artemus Ward Among the Mormons," based loosely on his own experiences in Utah, but more intent on burlesquing the travelogue form than providing an account of that currently titillating topic of Mormonism. (19) A brief extract from the lecture gives some indication of the punning, digressive style of the piece, and of the printed text's methods of recording Browne's performance. The narrator is describing an encounter with an Indian tribe:
... as raw dog was all they proposed to give to me--I had to eat it or starve. So at the expiration of two days I seized a tin plate and went to the chief's daughter--and I said to her in a silvery voice--in a kind of German-silvery voice--I said--"Sweet child of the forest, the paleface wants his dog." There was nothing but his paws! I had paused too long! Which reminds me that time passes. A way which time has [sic]. (20)
This characteristically absurd and bathetic comedy was accompanied by a crude panorama picture irrelevant to the incident described. The facetiousness and presentation is clearly related to Albert Smith's performances, and his manager suggests that the choice of the Egyptian Hall as a venue for his British residency was, in part, a homage to Smith. (21) It was to Smith, too, that Browne's British publisher compared him in the introduction to the British edition of Artemus Ward, His Book. (22)
By the time of the arrival of Browne in Britain in 1866, then, there was clearly an innovative tradition of transatlantic exchange that was working outside of the conventions and venues of legitimate theater and that was shaping an ambivalent, playful version of the public platform. Barnum's energetic experiments in the performance of American capitalism were adapted to the different audiences and cultural perceptions of Albert Smith's performance, and Smith's act in turn served as a model for Charles Browne's rendering of a new kind of American comedy. These cultural encounters suggest the growing convergence of British and American entertainment forms, something also indicated by the popularity of American-derived blackface minstrelsy in Britain in the mid-nineteenth century. However, other aspects of Browne's reception in London indicate the distinctions and tensions that were inherent in such relationships, tensions that return us to the ambivalent responses to P.T. Barnum that were discussed earlier.
The dominant metropolitan literary journalism of the 1860s remained generally ill-disposed to imported American culture. Nils Enkvist has traced the shift in the presentation of America in articles in the two leading humorous magazines of the period, Punch and Fun. "At first they were culled from American sources," he writes, "but soon the editors decided upon a more scathing policy of satirizing the Americans, particularly their bragging, their crude manners and brutality, as well as their questionable business methods." (23) While the press reception of Artemus Ward, His Book was not uniformly hostile, it nevertheless displayed aesthetic condemnation mixed with condescension. The Quarterly Review, for example, cast such writing as essentially oral and hence unliterary, commenting that "[a] good deal of what is called American humour has been produced in [a] lower mental range. It is not much beyond that which is uttered nightly by the gallery 'gods' of our theatres, or daily by some village humorist who is noted locally for his ludicrous perceptions." (24) The Cornhill Magazine also emphasized the "lowness" of American comedy, classing Browne as "only ... one degree above the wax-figure showmen whom he personates," (25) and the committee of Punch, which published eight of Browne's pieces in 1866, was reportedly only mildly enthusiastic about his work, citing the "bad spelling" as a "decided handicap." (26) Nevertheless, for Browne to be published at all by the magazine was surprising--very few outside of its small editorial committee, let alone an American, contributed copy during this period. The reasons for this qualified acceptance are as much to do with British imperial and transatlantic politics as with Browne's literary qualities.
Browne's Punch letters were exercises in mild travel satire, with the showman Artemus Ward transplanted to London and giving his views on English life and institutions. More characteristic of Browne's American work, however, was the London piece "Converting the Nigger," posthumously published in The Savage Club Papers (1867). In this anecdote, the showman exposes the hypocrisy of Christian anti-slavery campaigners asking for contributions to their mission in the post-war South. Ward's dismissal of them--"don't attempt to convert a Ethiopian person while his stummuck yearns for vittles," (27)--is typical of Browne's political strategy in general. His writing was shaped in the specific context of American Democrat journals and despite his showman's protest when asked about his political principles--"I hain't gut enny ... Ime in the show bizniss," (28)--Browne's satire was informed by the Democrat strategy described by one biographer as that of wanting to "save the country by getting rid of the fire-eating Southern politician and side-tracking the negro." (29) His Civil War pieces followed this line assiduously. "The Show is Confiscated," for example, finds the showman lecturing the Confederate president Jefferson Davis about the Northern determination to "save the flag," but alongside this is the overt racism of a speech that the showman makes in "The Crisis," where he wishes that the black American could "go off sumwheres by hisself ... without havin a eternal fuss kickt up about him." (30) Browne developed this theme on stage in the lecture "Sixty Minutes in Africa" which Hingston recalled as being written "at a time when the negro question was so much debated as to have become an absolute nuisance.... The saying arose that all Americans had "nigger-on-the-brain." The topic became nauseous, especially to the Democratic party." (31) It was this fraught politics that gave Browne access to the otherwise hostile world of London satirical journalism.
Browne's Democrat politics were always likely to appeal to a magazine that had argued for British recognition of the Confederacy and pursued a virulent racial agenda of its own. Whilst Punch's specific assaults on Lincolnite Republicanism diminished noticeably after the president's assassination, its anti-liberalism did not. Thus Browne's first article for the journal appeared above an appeal for the release from prison of Jefferson Davis, and a couplet deriding John Bright's stance in opposition to the conduct of Governor Eyre in Jamaica. (32) This juxtaposition suggests both the magazine's recognition of Browne's political compatibility, and the fluent translations--rhetorical and political--that could be made between the racial conflicts of America and those of the British empire. In one of the few overtly political passages in Browne's London essays, the showman himself registers such an exchange. Ward adapts arguments against the enfranchisement of black Americans--arguments previously rehearsed in Punch (33)--to British reform debates. "[T]here is those whose igrance is so dense and loathsum," he writes, "that they shouldn't be trustid with a ballit any more'n one of my trained serpunts should be trusted with a child to play with." (34) Punch made frequent connections between the American Civil War and the ongoing conflict in Ireland, (35) and such political interplay drew upon and shaped the developing (and volatile) transatlantic rhetorical resources that Browne, Barnum, and Smith also used.
Another important reference point in Browne's writing and act was blackface minstrelsy--already, by the 1860s, a major force of transatlantic dialogues--and an influence upon the popular representation of American and imperial conflicts (Punch frequently used the rhetoric and forms of the minstrel show in its coverage of the American Civil War, for example). Browne's links with minstrelsy are frequently mentioned by his biographers, (36) and his comic strategies of exaggeration, slapstick, verbal contortion, punning and nonsense are all typical of the genre. His work also tapped into the deeper structures of minstrelsy which, as Eric Lott has argued, both contained and expressed the tensions of racial and class antagonism in the years leading up to the Civil War. (37) The showman persona allowed Browne some of the political freedoms experienced by the white blackface artistes that he enjoyed, with the wise fool Ward comically negotiating the competing demands of Democrat politics as he articulated anti-secessionist populism alongside unreconstructed racism. The Quarterly Review identified "a sort of knowing unconsciousness [its emphasis]" in Artemus Ward, His Book, (38) and that suggestive phrase may refer to the ironic mock-primitivism of the Ward persona that has its sources as much in the minstrel mask as in Barnum's Museum (though Barnum, of course, also dealt in minstrel shows). A strategy of guileful gauchery in response to pressing issues of race, class, and culture allowed Browne to cross the great divides of mid-century Democrat politics--a negotiation startlingly symbolized in Lincoln's reading of an Artemus Ward article to his war cabinet before the drafting of the Emancipation Act. (39) In his shift from print to stage Browne shaped the language of minstrelsy and the performance strategies of Barnum and Smith into a new form that, while it abandoned immediate political concerns and dialect comedy, exploited the cultural fluidity of new performance spaces in America and England.
The stage shows, as I indicated earlier, reproduced neither the character of the showman nor his idiosyncratic speech patterns, though the "Artemus Ward" pseudonym was preserved and the delight in absurdity maintained. Browne's dapper appearance on the platform nevertheless disguised another version of that "knowing unconsciousness" that informed his earlier creation. In his first American lectures, like Barnum before him, Browne parodied the educative function and formality of the genre. More than this, though, he was successful in developing a form that not only appealed to the sophisticated audiences of the East Coast, who were accustomed to the serious lectures that were the subject of the parody, but which could be transported to the emergent cultural spaces of the opera houses and saloons of California, Nevada, and Utah. It was "the humor of audacious exaggeration--of perfect lawlessness," as Bret Harte described it, (40) as well as urbane satire. It was also, as we have seen, exportable to England where it both achieved popularity and challenged local interpretation--the Illustrated London News, for example, solemnly praised the deliberately awful panorama as being "of great interest ... having been taken from photographs of remarkable accuracy," and Hingston delightedly reports that John Bright listened to Browne's lecture "with grave attention." (41) As with blackface minstrelsy, Barnum's and Browne's performances of American culture in London suggest the complex conjunctions and disjunctions of meaning that would characterize the history of transatlantic exchanges of popular culture over the next century.
The three performances that I have discussed in this essay are early examples of an emergent transatlantic culture that was to grow in strength (and in American dominance) as the century progressed. The competition provided by America in literary and dramatic culture was managed easily enough by journals' condescending appeals to a national immaturity and crudeness, such as those discussed earlier in the reviews of Artemus Ward, His Book. Far less predictable and confinable, though, were those performances, such as the humorous lecture, that negotiated a different course and were energized by unexpected political and cultural forces. Their entry into Britain came through the relatively unlegislated platforms of such venues as the Egyptian Hall and the St. James' Hall, where midgets, minstrels, burlesque panoramas, and curious lecturers were welcomed. If "Artemus Ward Among the Mormons" had no immediate successor in British culture, it is nevertheless an instructive example of transatlantic theater, and Browne's brief career in England allows us to reconstruct some of the political and cultural alliances and judgements that underpin those performative crossings.
Anglia Polytechnic University
(1) Richard Altick, The Shows of London (Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard UP, 1978), 505.
(2) For accounts of Barnum's career in London see P.T. Barnum, Struggles and Triumphs (London; Sampson Low, 1855); Neil Hams, Humbug: The Art of P.T. Barnum (U of Chicago P, 1973); Raymund Fitzsimons, Barnum in London (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1969); Paul J. Boxell, "P.T. Barnum's Lectures for Londoners," Quarterly Journal of Speech, LIV. 2 (1968), 140-46.
(3) Bluford Adams. E Pluribus Barnum: The Great Showman and the Making of US Popular Culture (U of Minnesota P, 1997).
(4) Albert Smith, "A Go-A-Head Day with Barnum," Bentley's Miscellany, Vol. 21 (1847), 524.
(5) Smith, "A Go-A-Head Day," 624, 625.
(6) Smith, "A Go-A-Head Day," 625.
(7) Clarke Olney, Benjamin Robert Haydon: Historical Painter (U of Georgia P, 1952), 249.
(8) "Barnum," Fraser's Magazine for Town and Country, LI (February 1855), 223.
(9) For the material used in the lectures, see P.T. Barnum, The Art of Money-Getting (London & New York: Ward, Lock and Co., 1883); and P.T. Barnum, Humbugs of the World (New York: Carleton, 1866).
(10) Times, 30 December 1858, 7.
(11) On Albert Smith, see Raymund Fitzsimons, The Baron of Piccadilly: The Travels and Entertainments of Albert Smith (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1967); J. Monroe Thorington, Mont Blanc Sideshow: The Life and limes of Albert Smith (Philadelphia: J.C. Winston, 1934); Richard Altick, The Shows of London, 473-78.
(12) Fitzsimons, The Baron of Piccadilly, 134.
(13) Unidentified review, Egyptian Hall Scrapbook, Guildhall Library.
(14) Fitzsimons, The Baron of Piccadilly, 132.
(15) Fitzsimons, The Baron of Piccadilly, 149.
(16) Edward P. Hingston, The Genial Showman: Being the Reminiscences of the Life of Artemus Ward (1870, Barre, Mass.: Imprint Society, 1971), 64.
(17) Kirk McManus, "The Platform Humorists: Comedy in One" in Performance of Literature in Historical Perspectives, ed. David W. Thompson (Lanham & London: University Press of America, 1983), 683.
(18) [Charles Browne], Artemus Ward's Lecture, ed. T.W. Robertson & E.P. Hingston (London: J.C. Hotten, 1869), 23.
(19) For a useful list of contemporary publications reflecting this fascination, see the Quarterly Review, Vol. 122 (1867), 450-51.
(20) Artemus Ward's Lecture, 174.
(21) Artemus Ward's Lecture, 55.
(22) [Charles Browne], Artemus Ward, His Book (London: Ward, Lock and Co., ).
(23) Nils Erik Enkvist, "American Humour in England Before Mark Twain," Acta Academiae Aboensis: Humaniora, 21.3 (1953), 25.
(24) "Yankee Humour," Quarterly Review (January 1867), 214.
(25) "American Humour," Cornhill Magazine, XII (1866), 42.
(26) Arthur A. Adrian, Mark Lemon, First Editor of "Punch" (London: Oxford UP, 1966), 55.
(27) [Charles Browne], "Converting the Nigger," in Andrew Halliday, ed., The Savage Club Papers (London: Tinsley Brothers, 1867), 110.
(28) Artemus Ward, His Book, 44.
(29) Don C. Seitz, Artemus Ward: A Biography and Bibliography (New York & London: Harper Bros, 1919), 79-80.
(30) Artemus Ward, His Book, 142, 61. See also the essays "The Octoroon" and "Oberlin."
(31) Artemus Ward's Lecture, 41-42.
(32) Punch, 1 September 1866, 95.
(33) See, for example, "The Black Elector," Punch, 26 August 1865, 81.
(34) Punch, 8 September 1866, 101.
(35) See, for example, "An Offer to the South," Punch, 12 July 1862, 19.
(36) Hingston, The Genial Showman, 41; Seitz, Artemus Ward, 131-32; William Alfred Corey, "Memories of Mark Twain," Overland Monthly, September 1915, 263-65.
(37) Eric Lott, Love and Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class (Oxford UP, 1993).
(38) "Yankee Humour," 225.
(39) David Herbert Donald, Lincoln (London: Cape, 1995), 80.
(40) Seitz, Artemus Ward, 146.
(41) Illustrated London News, 17 November 1866, 490; Artemus Ward's Lecture, 49.…