Dead Bird Award

As I mentioned in my last blog, Mark Catesby included two prints of birds which were pictured as dead. One, the robin, lies on its back, its feet stuck in the air, and the other, the "yellow rump," dangles from a spider thread. These prints are nice compositionally and of equal historic import to all the other Catesby prints, but--not surprisingly--they are much less valuable and even when priced considerably lower, are much harder to sell than almost any other Catesby print.
Some clients have tried to convince themselves that if they hung the robin print upside down it wouldn't look dead, but there is always that inconvenient tree truck growing out its back. These birds are clearly dead and that makes them very difficult to sell.
Over the years we have eventually sold these prints when we got them, for some people aren't bothered by the fact the birds are dead and with these two images they can get an historically important Catesby print at a great price. When we first went into business, though, and we had a number of Catesby prints, including this pair, we were convinced they would never sell. Thus when we did sell them, we had a little celebration and created what we call the "Dead Bird Award."

The criteria for the Dead Bird Award, which we still hand out today for appropriate sales, are two-fold. The print must be hard to sell, but it must also still be a "good" print. That is, it cannot be hard to sell simply because it is a bad print. For instance, the print might have historical significance or be well made or even be very attractive, but its subject matter will be such that it is surprising that anyone would want to own it. It is not that the print is hard to sell because it is badly made, ugly, or in bad shape, but because the subject is such that most people would not want to hang such a print on their wall.

The Catesby dead bird prints are the prototypes, but there are many other classic examples. The Alexander Wilson print of the Black Vultures has two of these birds standing over the carcass of a sheep. This is as significant a print as any other by Wilson, but we have sold maybe two of these prints in 27 years.


There are also a number of John James Audubon prints the sale of which wins this award: there is Audubon's print of the Black Vultures (this time eating a deer head) and the print of the Texas Lynx which is blatantly giving itself personal hygiene.

Not surprisingly, there are quite a number of historical prints that fit the "dead bird" criteria because of unpleasant subject matter. Good examples are the the historically fascinating, but morbid prints of Andersonville prison.
Theodor de Bry prints of the early exploration of North America are important and desirable prints, but the engraving of a torture scene is not one that sells very well.

Other typical dead bird prints include gruesome hunting scenes (for instance when the fox is caught) and even some of the Indians from the McKenney & Hall History of the North American Indian. As the portraits were based on life portraits and not all the subjects were rich and well decked out, some of the images are rather sad looking and, of course, much harder to sell then most of the others.

I have often suggested to clients that they collect "dead bird" prints, as they can get some great prints at very good prices. So far, though, no takers. As it is, whenever we sell a "dead bird" print, we have a small celebration and we find that the clients who buy them (who we always tell about the award) enjoy the story. I have thought about one day doing a "dead bird" window for the shop, but so far have resisted the temptation...

Mark Catesby's Natural History Prints

Today's blog is about my all-time favorite natural history artist, Mark Catesby. His work is not only less famous that that of John James Audubon, but the prints are less impressive in their appearance. However, to my mind there are no better American natural history prints. The very first print my wife and I bought was the Catesby print of the blue heron and we featured a Catesby print on the cover of the first catalogue for The Philadelphia Print Shop back in 1982.

Known as the “Founder of American Ornithology,” Mark Catesby was the author of Natural History of Carolina, Florida and the Bahama Islands, which was the first natural history of American flora and fauna. This monumental work was issued complete with 220 engraved illustrations between 1731 and 1743, and it was the first systematic description of American birds, animals and plants.

On two trips to America, in 1712 and 1722, Mark Catesby traveled throughout the backwoods of the southeast, collecting botanical samples for his sponsors in England and in his self-taught style making sketches of the wildlife that he saw. Upon his return from his second trip, his friends and sponsors encouraged him to publish a book of his drawings and notes, which he did beginning in 1731.


His Natural History was almost completely a one man show. Not only did Catesby do his own field research and sketches, but since he could not afford a professional engraver, he took etching lessons and did his own etching of all but two of the plates. His intense involvement in the work did not stop there, for Catesby even colored the plates of the first edition (the second edition plates were colored by Catesby’s friend George Edwards, a naturalist in his own right).


Besides being the first to produce an American natural history, Catesby was the first in a number of other items, viz. as the first to show the birds and animals in the natural habitats, and as the first to abandon the Indian names for his subjects, trying to establish scientific names based on generic relationships. For all these and many other reasons, Elsa Allen says, “the quality of the work was so superior to foregoing accounts that Mark Catesby ranks as the first real naturalist in America.” (American Ornithology Before Audubon, p. 465)

Catesby's publication had a significant impact on scientific circles on both sides of the Atlantic and the demand was sufficient so that there were two official later editions, published in 1754 and 1771. Though the text was not reprinted after the third edition, plates were run off in the early nineteenth century, proving the long standing appeal and importance of Catesby’s work.


Catesby's prints appeal to me partly because of the story of how they were made; here was real pioneering scientific work done in the backwoods of colonial America. If you look at Catesby's prints, they seem to express a sense of humor--the birds look to me like they are smiling or ready to wink at the viewer. What makes this interesting is that Catesby could not have taken the production of his Natural History anything but very seriously. He invested all his money and time and this work would establish him in London if successful. Still, it must be that his underlying sense of humor snuck into the images unintentionally.

There are prints of birds, fish, animals and snakes. They range in value, with the birds being the most desirable and expensive, to the snakes which are very moderately valued for prints of such historic impornt. There are two birds, however, which sell for less than all the others, not because of what birds they are (one is the Robin), but because they are shown as dead. That is the subject of my next blog....

Princeton University Graphic Arts

As part my on-going series of blogs highlighting important print collections, today we'll look briefly at the graphic arts collection at Princeton University. To quote from their web site, the collection "includes artists' and private press books, as well as materials for the study of paper and papermaking, printing, calligraphy, printmaking, fine binding, typography, and book design. Of special interest are the Sinclair Hamilton Collection of American Illustrated Books; 18th- and 19th-century British artists and illustrators (particularly George and Robert Cruikshank, Thomas Rowlandson, and William Hogarth), and the Charles Rahn Fry Pochoir Collection."

The collection includes a large number of prints (not to mention drawings, paintings and photographs), and an extensive reference collection related to the history of the book and printing. Also a significant collection of printed ephemra such as trade cards, bookplates, etc. The collection is one of the best in the country and though geared for use of students and faculty at the University, Julie Mellby, the Graphic Arts Librarian, is very active in reaching out to scholars and the public in presenting exhibitions both on-line (check out the Cruikshank on-line exhibit) and in the Leonard L. Milberg Gallery on campus.

What prompted this blog, though, is Julie's terrific blog, Graphic Arts which I just discovered last month. I have enjoyed going through past blogs and am now a dedicated follower. Lots of great stuff here and I highly recommend that anyone interested in this blog should visit Julie's blog. Take a look, for instance, at the blog about Edward Orme's transparent prints. I hope that in the future I'll be able to do an interview with Julie, but in the meantime, check out the blog and the graphic arts collection web site.

Symbol of America

In the course of researching a wonderful allegory we just acquired, I reread an interesting article by E. McClung Fleming, “From Indian Princess to Greek Goddess. The American Image, 1783-1815,” which appeared in Winterthur Portfolio III in 1967. Fleming wrote:

“In the national pride and aspiration of this era [after the Treaty of Paris], there was continuous need to refer to the new nation as a living entity with a palpable spirit. Following an ancient impulse, American s personified their country for a hundred purposes and occasions—[including] a nation interested in the arts and sciences on frontispieces of national magazines, a noble, attractive nation in prints to be placed on the walls of homes… The United States was actively and continuously represented by symbolic figures giving it a needed public image during the years from 1783 to 1815.” (p. 37)

He identifies four prototype ways in which America was symbolized in the first few decades of the nation's history: as an Indian princess, a plumed Greek goddess, as Liberty, and as Columbia.


Indian Princess:
In the earliest images, America (both the North American continent and the nascent United States), was usually depicted as an Indian princess. This derived from the tradition of using an Indian for America when the four continents of the world were personified as Queens. This figure was used in medals, fabric and prints, often with the Indian princess having the attributes of the liberty cap, a rattlesnake, and the American shield and/or flag.


Plumed Greek goddess
The next version of America that appeared in prints was a goddess-like figure in Grecian robes and with a headdress plumed with ostrich plumes (instead of eagle feathers as for the Indian figure). This change was the result of the popularity of the Classical style which influenced American architecture, poetry, dress and the graphic arts beginning near the end of the eighteenth century. This Greek figure would often be accompanied by other classical figures and symbols like a pyramid, altar, or urn. A nice example of this is the print of "American Guided by Wisdom," which I discussed in an earlier blog.


Liberty
The third style for America in prints was that of the Goddess of Liberty. Symbols of Liberty (the pole and cap of Liberty) were often associated with other figures representing America, but the American Revolution and the founding principles of the new nation were so closely identified with the cause of Liberty, that the figure of this goddess soon became, in effect, Americanized. She would often be shown with the American flag, shield, or eagle, or associated with stars representing the states. The Statue of Liberty is a prime example of this, as is the print showing Liberty holding a portrait of Thomas Jefferson while looking at another of George Washington hanging on a pyramid nearby. Liberty is crushing the symbols of monarchy under her foot and the American eagle is by her side.


Columbia
The final form which Fleming discusses is America as Columbia, a figure whose name derives from Christopher Columbus. The use of Columbia as a personification of America began as early as the late seventeenth century, but became particularly popular at the time of the Revolution. As Fleming said, “The name recalled not only the fact of the discovery of America, but also the symbolic notion that America, through the voyage of Columbus, linked the Occident to the Orient in the great westward flow of civilization.” (p.59) Columbia did not have either the feathered or plumed headdress, but often either went bareheaded or had the helmet associated with Minerva. She tended to be dressed in classical white robes or sometimes the national banner. She also was usually accompanied by other symbols of America, such as the shield, flag, and eagle.

The print pictured above is a wonderful example of this form for America. It is an engraving by Samuel Harris issued in 1804. In it Columbia is illustrated as a proud and independent member of the family of nations of the world. The subtitle of the print promises "Peace with all nations, Partiality to none." This refers to the American attempt at the time to remain neutral between France and Great Britain. France, of course, had been America's great ally against the British in the Revolution, and despite the hiccup of the "Quasi-War" of 1798-1800, France and the United States had remained on friendly terms. There was always a strong pro-British faction in the United States and the government did try to keep a neutral stance even when in 1803 Britain declared war against France and Napoleon. The British were none too happy with this American stance and began to stop American ships in order to impress British-born, but naturalized U.S. citizens into the British navy. The tensions between the United States and Britain eventually led to the War of 1812, but in 1804, when this print was issued, Americans still hoped to be able to remain neutral, a sentiment nicely illustrated in this allegory.

In the print, Columbia sits as a strong independent nation, holding an American flag and a laurel branch, while the proud American eagle is emblazoned on the nation's shield. This theme is further emphasized by ships on the horizon exemplifying American commerce and various symbols in the foreground representing America's arts. A ring of seventeen chain links, each filled by a star, symbolizes the states of the Union (Ohio had become the seventeenth state in 1803).

Durfee & Bushnell premium print

Last weekend I came across a delightful chromolithograph which I had never seen before. The image is a classic American winter scene and it probably dates from 1873, during the heyday of American chromolithographs. It is not of the very top quality, like Prang's best work; instead it is rather more of the "decorative" quality typical of less expensive publications. What makes this print particularly interesting, however, is that there is a wonderful label pasted to the back of the print by the firm of Durfee & Bushnell.

Durfee & Bushnell published this print as a premium for their monthly magazine entitled The Leisure Hour, which was described on the label as "An Illustrated monthly of Fashion, Floriculture, Music, and Entertaining and Instructive Reading." Durfee & Bushnell is not listed anywhere as a print publisher and I think they only published this one print as a premium for their magazine. I doubt they had the ability to actually produce the chromolithograph, so they probably had it printed by another New England firm.

What I was able to find out about Durfee & Bushnell is that they formed a partnership about 1873 to publish The Leisure Hour in Brattleboro. Edward Bushnell had previously worked in Brattleboro as a printer and he partnered with Charles A Durfee in this short-lived venture. The magazine did not last long, as described in Mary Rogers Cabot's Annals of Brattleboron,

“The magazine might have prospered but for the fact that Mr. Durfee suddenly left town, leaving the financial and editorial responsibility entirely upon Mr. Bushnell. Mr. Bushnell immediately suspended publication of the magazine.”

The label on the back of the print [click on picture at left to see larger image] is quite interesting in a number of ways. First, it indicates that Durfee & Bushnell went beyond simply publishing the magazine, for they advertised that they sold "Picture Frame, in any size or style, at the lowest prices," and that they also would mount chromolithographs for people (and indeed stated that this print was mounted onto canvas by the firm).

"Have Your Chromos Mounted!We have facilities for mounting Chromos in the very best and most approved styles.
Canvas and Stretcher.All work sized, varnished, and finsihed in the best manner."

Indeed, they insisted that one should only mount chromos on canvas and not put glass over them. I mentioned in my earlier blog that one often finds 19th century chromolithographs without glass, attributing this to the desire to imitate oil paintings, but Durfee & Bushnell offer another reason not to use glass,

"Don't Put Glass Over Chromos!Glass should never be put over chromos, as there is a greenish cast to the glass that spoils the effect the artists intended it should have, while the varnish brings out the colors and preserves the picture.

As I have mentioned in other blogs, one of my main interests with antique prints is the business of printmaking and selling and this wonderful label gives us an insight into the way that one firm tried to make a go of it.

Boston Athenaeum

New England is the home of some of the best institutional print collections in the country. I have already written about the Connecticut Historical Society and the American Antiquarian Society, and today I will talk about another New England institution with a world-class antiquarian print collection, the Boston Athenaeum.

For almost three decades, Sally Pierce was the Athenaeum's Curator of Prints & Photographs. Sally is a superb print scholar, author (and wonderful person), who helped to turn the print collection at the Athenaeum into one of the best in the country. From 1991, Sally was assisted by Catharina Slautterback, who also co-authored a number of publications with Sally. When Sally recently retired, it was natural that Catharina would succeed her as Curator of Prints & Photographs. The Athenaeum was very lucky to be able to pass on the baton to such a capable, knowledgeable and experienced successor. Catharina has graciously agreed to be interviewed in this blog about the Athenaeum and its collection.

What is the history of the Athenaeum’s collection?

The Boston Athenaeum was founded in 1807 as a library, art repository, natural history museum, and laboratory. In the 1820s, the Athenaeum opened an art gallery, one of the first public venues for exhibiting art in New England. Although paintings and sculpture were the focus of both the Athenaeum’s art collection and its exhibitions, works of art on paper were routinely acquired and displayed. Most of the prints were acquired through donations and ran the gamut from European portraits, landscapes and city views to locally produced engravings and lithographs. Although several important early American artists, such as David Claypoole Johnston, Benjamin Nutting, and Seth Cheney, were nominally in charge of the “Engraving Room,” there was no clear collecting policy or curatorship in the modern sense of the word. The collection grew accordingly with the exquisite and the mundane coexisting in less than ideal housing environments. In the 1870s, the majority of the Athenaeum’s art collections were put on long term loan with the newly formed Museum of Fine Arts Boston and the Athenaeum focused on its mission as a library. Throughout the remainder of the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth century, works of art on paper were purchased primarily, although not exclusively, for documentary purposes, i.e. as art or geographical references.

The haphazard growth of the Athenaeum’s prints and photographs collection, so typical of the times, changed dramatically in the mid-twentieth century. In 1943 Charles E. Mason, Jr. and others founded the New England Historical Art Society to promote the study of the “history and customs of New England as portrayed in paintings, prints, engravings, sculpture, and other works of art.” The Society was one of a number of organizations and individuals that sought to challenge existing prejudices against American art and specifically American prints. In 1949 the Society was dissolved and its collection donated to the Boston Athenaeum, thus forming the nucleus of an independent prints and photographs department within the institution.

The Athenaeum’s collection was thus transformed from a large, but loose, assortment of prints and photographs to a tightly focused collection documenting New England culture, history, and printmaking. In its early years, the Department benefited from the guidance and generosity of Charles E. Mason, Jr., known affectionately as “Monk,” and one of the earliest and most enthusiastic collectors of American prints, particularly Boston lithography. Sally Pierce became Curator in 1981 and under her stewardship, the Prints & Photographs Department expanded to become one of the nation’s most significant collections of early American works of art on paper. I joined the Athenaeum in 1991 and assumed the curatorship of the Department following Ms. Pierce’s retirement in 2009.

What is the range of prints in the Athenaeum graphics collection?

Today, the Athenaeum’s Prints & Photographs Department is an active and vibrant member of the American print world. The collection is consulted by researchers around the world and individual items are exhibited and reproduced on a regular basis. The collection is comprised of works of art on paper documenting New England and American history from the eighteenth century to the present. Although classified as a historical documentation collection, many of the Department’s objects also have great artistic and aesthetic merits.

Its holdings include the graphic work of artists as diverse as Paul Revere, John Carwitham, Abel Bowen, Winslow Homer, Fitz Henry Lane, and William Morris Hunt. All manner of printmaking is documented within the collection, from aquatints and etching, to mezzotints, lithographs, and the four-screen processes of the early twentieth century. The subject matter of the collection is equally diverse with portraits, landscapes, genre scenes, urban and factory views, as well as significant holdings in Civil War-related imagery. In addition to prints, the Prints & Photographs Department actively collects photography, drawings, watercolors, posters and architectural drawings. A fuller description of the Department’s holdings can be found on the Athenaeum’s website.

What do you see as the greatest strength of the Athenaeum graphics collection?

The greatest strength of the Athenaeum’s Prints & Photographs Departments is undoubtedly its collection of nineteenth century Boston and New England lithographs. Boston was a center for the lithographic arts from the 1820s to the 1880s and home to such important firms as Pendleton’s, J. H. Buford’s, and Louis Prang. These firms produced a wide range of material: letterheads, sheet music covers, advertisements, political cartoons, playbills, and “art” chromolithographs. The Boston Athenaeum collects all of these materials and, in the process, documents not only the history of printmaking in America, and specifically in New England, but also the cultural, political, and social milieu of the nineteenth century.

What part of the graphics collection would you most like to strengthen?

I am always looking to strengthen the Athenaeum’s collection of eighteenth and early nineteenth century prints in order to supplement our understanding of American printmaking. And I am continually adding to the Athenaeum’s nineteenth century lithographic collection. I am particularly interested in the work of three Boston lithographers.

The short-lived firm of Tappan & Bradford (later L. H. Bradford & Company) produced some of the most beautiful examples of the lithographic arts with a fineness of draftsmanship and subtle tonal printing unparalleled at the time.

The chromolithographic work of Charles H. Crosby & Company is little known today; his output has been overshadowed by the more prolific and financially successful firm of Louis Prang. Crosby was an appalling bad businessman (he went in and out of bankruptcy several times) but he employed highly skilled artists and his firm produced some of the most ambitious and creative chromolithographic advertisements of the day. His work is fairly scarce and I would love to be able to document the full range of his work.

One of my favorite lithographic artists of the nineteenth century is the great portraitist, Leopold Grozelier. Although he died at the young age of thirty-five, he was incredibly prolific. The Athenaeum has over 80 portraits by Grozelier but I would like to continue to add to our holdings; it would be particularly interesting to acquire examples of prints that he executed in France before immigrating to the United States in 1851.

Is there any one print or type of print not in the collection that you would like to add?
Like most curators, my desiderata, or want, list is endless and I can think of several examples of prints and type of prints that I would like to add to the collection. For example, the Athenaeum has not traditionally collected color wood cut prints of the early twentieth century. There was a particularly vibrant community of wood cut artists in New England at this time and it would be wonderful to add some of their work to the Athenaeum’s collection.

In addition to adding new objects to the collection, curators must often “upgrade” their existing historical prints. This is not discussed very often but in fact many eighteenth and nineteenth century prints have had a long and hard life before they end up in a public repository. They have frequently been exposed to light, backed in wood, and stained by water or other liquids. Many have also suffered from the overzealous conservation treatment, often irreversible, that was typical of the mid-twentieth century. The Athenaeum is not unique in having some prints that are too fragile or worn to be handled or displayed. When an important print is in bad condition, I will seek to “upgrade” it by purchasing a better impression when and if it becomes available on the market.

What is the most important task as curator at the Athenaeum?

My first and foremost task as a curator is to make the Athenaeum’s collection of graphic art accessible to researchers. There are many steps involved in making a work of art accessible. Work must be acquired, accessioned, cataloged, properly housed, shared with researchers and classes, and, in an ideal world, published and exhibited. As the sole employee of the Athenaeum’s Prints & Photographs Department, I am responsible for all of these tasks, many of which are quite time consuming. These housekeeping chores may not be particularly glamorous, but an object that is un-cataloged or improperly housed is not accessible to anyone. As a curator, I am eager for the objects under my care to be used and enjoyed by the present generation as well as future generations. I like to think that for every print in my collection there is at least one researcher. To increase the likelihood that researchers will find their prints, catalog records for the Athenaeum’s graphic arts collection are available on our on-line catalog “Athena.”

What projects do you have underway or planned for the Athenaeum for the future?

I will be working on a series of exhibitions for the Athenaeum’s Norma Jean Calderwood Gallery. The exhibitions will take place over the course of the next decade and will feature highlights from the Prints & Photographs collections. One of the first exhibitions will be devoted to the development of the chromolithographic arts in Boston in the nineteenth century. There are also plans for exhibitions on the Department’s collection of architectural drawings and recent acquisitions of contemporary art.

What long-term goals do you have for the graphics collection at the Athenaeum?

In 2000, the Athenaeum received an endowment for the purchase of contemporary works of art on paper. Contemporary works are acquired for their documentation of New England in the 21st century and as a record of artistic activities in the region. In selecting contemporary works, I consider how they relate and speak to the historic prints in the collection. For example, I have been purchasing the work of a local artist who photographs the decaying structures of former New England factories. The Athenaeum also owns nineteenth century prints of many of these buildings and together these works record the evolving history of the area’s built environment. A contemporary print is contemporary for only a short period of time before becoming “historic.” By acquiring works by living artists today, I am able to build a historic collection for the future.

Who uses the graphics collection at the Athenaeum?

A wide variety of researchers make use of the Athenaeum’s graphics collections. Many of the researchers are academics with specialties in American studies and the visual arts. Architects and architectural historians also use the collection heavily as do textbook publishers and film documentarians.

What is the most common request you get related to the graphics collection at the Athenaeum?
There are two major categories of requests for images at the Athenaeum: 1) the built environment and 2) social history. New England has a long history of reusing and transforming its buildings and I assist many researchers in their attempts to visually document the past and present lives of various structures. Social historians have become increasingly adept at using the visual arts to understand the past. Although there are trends in academia, there has been a strong and continued interest in abolitionism, African-American history, and gender studies over the course of the past few decades.

What other print collections (institutional) with American prints do you think are particularly good?

There are so many excellent public repositories of American historical prints in the country. In my neighborhood alone, there are several superb collections: the Massachusetts Historical Society, the Boston Public Library, Historic New England, and the American Antiquarian Society. Many of these institutions have good on-line catalogs to their collections and they are all, without exception, overseen by wonderful, hard-working, and dedicated curators.

Recycled Union

Last week I described in general terms the notion of recycled prints, where a new print is made from an already existing matrix, the image being modified to some extent. By the middle of the nineteenth century, many of the larger prints were being produced from steel plates, which lasted very well even after thousands of impressions were produced. It was not particularly practical to melt down or totally wipe clean a steel plate, and with the ability of these plates to be reused many times, quite a number of steel plates were kept for years after their first use. Sometimes they were reprinted with little or no change, but other times they would be extensively modified so they could be used for what was a “new” image. One of the most famous examples of this was a print entitled “Union,” which was recycled not just once, but twice.

The first use of the “Union” plate was for an 1852 engraving by Henry S. Sadd after a painting by Tomkins Harrison Matteson. This print was issued to commemorate the Compromise of 1850. That political consensus was seen by many as the resolution of the tempest over the contentious issue of free and slave states that had been tearing the country apart. Matteson’s image was a celebration of this compromise which it was hoped would save the Union.

In Matteson’s painting the individuals involved in the compromise are shown seated in a formal setting. The two major protagonists, Daniel Webster and John C. Calhoun, along with “The Great Compromiser,” Henry Clay are most prominent, shown surrounding a bust of Washington, the former two with their hands on a copy of the United States Constitution. Arrayed around them are other important participants in the compromise, including Lewis Cass, Winfield Scott, Sam Houston and Millard Fillmore.

The symbolism of the print is extensive. Liberty blesses the group from above, while in the background the American eagle helps to part curtains to reveal the Utopia that the strengthened Union was seen as now proceeding towards. In the lower right corner Fillmore is shown holding an American shield above the ‘thrown down’ royal crown and scepter, a symbol of America’s struggles of the past. This is a wonderful print celebrating this important agreement in American history.

Alas, despite the print’s hopeful prognosis, the Compromise of 1850 was ultimately a failure, for the issue of slavery and its extension to new states continued to fester, leading within a decade to the secession of 11 states and then in April 1861, the fall of Fort Sumter and the beginning of the Civil War. This was followed by a swell of enthusiasm in the North for the Union; a popular wave that print publishers were quick to try to ride. A New York publisher, William Pate, saw the possibilities of Henry Sadd’s engraving after Matteson’s image, so he had it reworked to bring it up-to-date for an 1861 issue of “Union.”


Pate had all the pro-Southern faces rubbed out and pro-Northern visages inserted in their stead. John Bell (Tennessee Senator who ran against Lincoln for President), Howell Cobb (of Georgia), W.P. Magnum (of North Carolina), William R. King (of Alabama), and James Buchanan (the previous President who supported slaveholder rights) were replaced by John Wool (Union general), Edward Everett (the orator being an ardent Union supporter), William H. Seward (Lincoln’s Secretary of State), Benjamin Butler (Union General), and Robert Anderson (“hero” of Fort Sumter), respectively. The most important exchange was the elimination of James Calhoun (the great Southern spokesman) and the insertion of Abraham Lincoln in his place.


One of the interesting aspects of this print is that Lincoln is shown clean shaven. (cf. blog on Lincoln and the growing of his beard) The print was obviously issued after the fall of Fort Sumter, as evidenced by the inclusion of the Major Anderson, and by that time Lincoln had already grown his beard. It is likely that the engraver of the first recycled print had begun work shortly after Lincoln’s election and that he didn’t have access to a new image of Lincoln with a beard to base his portrait on. So he would have had to use a pre-bearded print as his source. (As an aside, Sadd is listed as the engraver on all versions of this print, though it was unlikely he made the changes to the recycled versions). At some point after the second version of “Union” was published, a third version was made, with a beard added to Lincoln’s face, creating a double-recycled print.