Glorious Victorian Toy Books on Exhibit in the Cotsen Gallery

Prophets in Israel. London: Ward and Lock, [between 1854 and 1861]. (Cotsen 151755)

“Sixpenny Stunners” is nearly ready to install in the Cotsen public gallery.  It will feature toy books, the fully illustrated pamphlets for children, issued 1860-1900 by the London publishers George Routledge & Son, Frederick Warne, Gall & Inglis, Ward, Lock & Tyler, Darton & Hodge, and Dean & Son Ltd.  Their eye-catching color-printed wrappers in yellow, pink, green and lavender papers cover bible stories, fairy tales, nursery rhymes, verse stories with music, novelties, painting books, and paper dolls.

The pamphlets from each of the firms display distinctive styles of packaging, which also reflect the design challenges of creating strong covers. A common technique is to repeat one of the most memorable text illustrations on the cover to draw prospective purchaser and reader into the story.  Walter Crane’s version of Jack and the Bean-stalk features the same illustration on the cover and the first text page, with some clever variants.  The colorways are different, but so are the text panels in the upper right hand corners.  The one on the cover has been drawn to look like a scroll, while the interior one has a few more flourishes.

Jack and the Bean-Stalk. [London]: George Routledge and Sons, [not before 1882]. (Cotsen 151851)

(Cotsen 151851)

A cover design does not always refer to the contents, like The Book of Quadrupeds clothed in a gorgeous double frame of stylized flowers and vines surrounding a central medallion.  A picture of an animal seems much more appropriate, but the obvious choice was probably ruled out by the technical difficulties of reproducing the wood engravings with all the fine lines and cross-hatching cleanly on the cover.

Book of Quadrupeds. London: Sampson Low, Son, & Co., [between 1856 and 1863]. (Cotsen 27320)

(Cotsen 27320)

Pamphlets issued as volumes in a publisher’s series may be bound in covers with a uniform rather than an individual design.  Marcus Ward’s “Royal Illuminated Legends for Great Folk for Lyttel Folke” were all decked out in covers printed in gold that reinterpreted medieval manuscript illumination in a contemporary style.  The series design worked well enough for the ballads and fairy tales, but looks a little out of place on Pocahontas: A Tale of Old Virginia.

Pocahontas : a Tale of Old Virginia. London: Marcus Ward & Co., [1872?]. (Cotsen 150292)

(Cotsen 150292)

Perhaps the most ostentatious are the so-called fairground covers, with the titles composed of fancy display types known as “fairground faces” surrounded by equally ornate borders.   Master Mousie’s Supper Party, a verse tale enlarging upon the familiar proverb “the mice will play while the cat’s way,” was a good candidate for this kind of cover for several reasons.  The full-page color illustrations were so crammed with details that they were probably judged too busy for the cover.  Another equally pressing reason may have been that one of the best pictures–showing the party out of bounds– was a little indelicate.

Master Mousie’s Supper Party. London: Ward, Lock & Tyler, [between 1865 and 1873?]. (Cotsen 15702)

(Cotsen 15702)

It comes as something of a surprise that the names of the printers of the covers, such as Kronheim & Co or Leighton Brothers, appeared in small type below the frame or border. They were considered the stars of the project and were  more likely than the pamphlet’s illustrator to be credited for their contribution—and that could include masters  Randolph Caldecott and Walter Crane!

(Cotsen 15702)

“Sixpenny Stunners” will be on display until spring: in the winter, a second selection of covers will rotate into the cases.

 

 

 

A True Story About African Girls in The Slave’s Friend (1835-1838), the First Abolitionist Periodical for Children

The Slave’s Friend. New York: American Anti-slavery Society, 1836-1838. (Cotsen 6598)

Because The Slave’s Friend was a “first,” certain facts are well known.  The monthly issues for children between six and 12 cost just a penny.  The editor was Lewis Tappan, the brother of the abolitionist Arthur,  the printer Ransom G. Wilson, and the illustrator the well-known wood cutter Alexander Andersen.  It was one of four publications The American Anti-Slavery Society launched in the early 1830.  In order to publicize its activities, the early numbers of the Friend were distributed free through the Society’s postal campaign to flood the southern states with abolitionist literature.  Incidents like the burning of bags of AASS pamphlets in Charleston, South Carolina post office proved great publicity for the organization.

Until recently, commentary on the periodical’s miscellaneous contents has been fairly cursory, as if the ways Tappan used to persuade his readership to accept the Society’s advocacy of immediate emancipation by non-violent means were self-evident.  Like any abolitionist publication, anecdotes of cruelty suffered by enslaved people figure prominently.  Should their sources be identified?  Should they be queried for accuracy? When reprinted from elsewhere, to what extent are they differ from the source material?

I decided to use as a test case a story in the July 1835 issue of The Slave’s Friend about two little girls named Joggy and Lorina.

The Slave’s Friend. July 1835

The Slave’s Friend. July 1835

My assumption that their story was probably reprinted from an earlier source was wrong:  it was literally hot off the press, based on articles about Captain Caleb Miller of the brig America, who brought them to America, that were run in The New Bedford Mercury and Boston Morning Post in June and early July.  Tappan seems to have drawn on the July 3 article in the Boston paper, which announced that Miller was charged with kidnapping and piracy in order to sell the two girls as slaves.  His story that the girls were given to him and he planned to raise them as his own was not believed.  He held on $3000 bail.

The Slave’s Friend. July 1835

Miller’s trial was closely watched by the abolitionist community because it would be the first case arising from the violation of United States laws against the African slave trade (The New Bedford Mercury suggested that “certain abolitionist gentlemen” had brought the case to light precisely for this reason.)   Tappan’s follow up article, however, focuses almost entirely on the girls’ whereabouts and welfare as more compelling way to rouse his readers’ sympathies than the details of Miller’s trial.  He went so far as to state that President Jackson deported Joggy and Lorena to Africa, a claim probably made on the strength of Jackson being listed as a supporter of the American Colonlzation Society (later revealed as  without his consent).

Reportage of the trial says little about the girls in comparison with Miller.  The Mercury, which was not noted for abolitionist sympathies, gave him a good character. The brig’s owners, New Bedford merchants William H. Hathaway and William S. Swain, testified that the ship had been trading on the African coast since 1830, but Miller had no orders to take slaves.  Testimony revealed that when the America was anchored in the “Rio Danda,” Miller was asked to transport 30 Africans to an undisclosed destination and his employer Swain claimed “it is common practice to take passengers, who are slaves, from one port to another, on the Coast of Africa,” as well as observing that “domestic slavery” was as common there as in the South.

Additional testimony from the trial in the August 7th Mercury via the New York Herald offered more information about the girls, confirming that they were  two places and therefore not related, that one was older than the other, and they disembarked the America on different days.  Their names are given as Lorena and Joarkana.   A crewman of color claimed responsibility for alerting New York  authorities about them being on board.  During the trial the girls made an appearance to “excite sympathy and to prejudice the jury against the prisoner.  There was no earthly reason for their being brought into court—and it reflected no credit on those who had ordered it to be done.” The captain and the mate were acquitted in New York on the charged of receiving and transporting Africans with the intent to sell them as slaves; however Miller was found guilty of bringing them back to be “held to labor.”

My effort to determine if the story of Joggy and Lorina was real did not exactly lay the matter to rest.   In making the girls’ story known, the newspapers had their own agendas, as did The Slave’s Friend.  It seems pretty clear that they were being used to rouse the public’s feelings and they drop out of the accounts without readers learning what ultimately happened to them.  More research will be needed to fill the blanks and reconcile the discrepancies in the narratives of Joggy and Lorina—and perhaps other scholars will investigate the origins of additional anecdotes about enslaved children in The Slave’s Friend.