African Americans: Seeing and Seen, 1766-1916 by Pure Imaging Inc.

African Americans Se e i n g a n d Se e n , 1766â&#x20AC;&#x201C;1916

Se e i n g a n d Se e n , 1766–1916

Se e i n g a n d Se e n , 1766â&#x20AC;&#x201C;1916 Tess Sol Schwab With a foreword by John Driscoll

BABCOCK GALLERIES 724 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10019 Tel 212 767 1852 Fax 212 767 1857 info@babcockgalleries.com www.babcockgalleries.com

This catalogue is published on the occasion of the exhibition:

African Americans: Seeing and Seen, 1766–1916 January 21–April 2, 2010 BABCOCK GALLERIES 724 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10019 www.babcockgalleries.com

lenders to the exhibition Adelson Galleries, New York Babcock Galleries, New York Godel & Co., Inc., New York Hirschl & Adler Galleries, Inc. Kenkeleba Gallery, New York Michael A. Latragna Fine Art Paul Worman Fine Art Philadelphia Print Shop Private Collections Reed Orenstein Rare Books, abaa Spanierman Gallery, llc Sumpter Priddy iii, Inc. The Old Print Shop, Inc. Turak Gallery T. W. Wood Gallery & Arts Center

acknowledgements

frican Americans: Seeing and Seen, 1766–1916 oﬀers a glimpse into the wealth of images created by African American artists and images depicting African Americans. I am greatly in debt to the work of many scholars who have previously explored this terrain and particularly to the curators of such ground-breaking exhibitions as Marvin S. Sadik’s The Portrayal of the Negro in American Painting at Bowdoin College Museum of Art (1964), Guy C. McElroy’s Facing History: The Black Image in American Art 1710–1940 at the Corcoran Gallery of Art (1990) and Gwendolyn DuBois Shaw’s Portraits of A People: Picturing African Americans in the Nineteenth Century (2005). I wish to express my appreciation and gratitude to the lenders who have graciously loaned works to this exhibition: Corrine Jennings of Kenkeleba Gallery not only for the loan of ﬁne works from her collection, but also for the many invaluable discussions which helped shaped my thinking for this exhibition, and for her continued guidance and

support; Harry Newman of The Old Print Shop, Inc. for his pertinent suggestions, enthusiasm and help in securing the excellent prints included in the exhibition; Paul Worman for his generous assistance and wonderful additions to the exhibition; and Warren Adelson and Elizabeth Oustinoﬀ at Adelson Galleries, Ellery Kurtz at Godel & Co., Eric Baumgartner at Hirschl & Adler Galleries, Michael Latragna, Donald Cresswell at Philadelphia Print Shop, Reed Orenstein, Christine Berry at Spanierman Gallery, Sumpter Priddy iii, Joyce Mandeville at T. W. Wood Gallery & Arts Center, and George Turak, for their considerable contributions. I also wish to extend my deepest thanks to my colleagues at Babcock Galleries: John Driscoll, Lyle Gray Dawson and Alexandra Vargo Tagami for their enthusiasm, encouragement and priceless support in the conception, formation, and realization of this exhibition. Tess Sol Schwab

s e e i n g a n d s e e n : a m at t e r o f t h e n a n d n o w

he words, sounds and images of a nation’s visionaries manifest meaning through the thoughts and actions of readers, listeners and viewers. Visionaries inspire collective memory which can have presence across generations, cultures and geography. Collective memory, which tends toward the fractious and fractured, of what is honored and protected defines the friable yet essential constants of humanity. In African Americans: Seeing and Seen, 1766–1916 Tess Sol Schwab cogently coalesces a range of iconic and vernacular images that have contributed to the formation of our nation’s collective memory, our somewhat schizophrenic national vision of freedom and Rights. Insight to our chaotic past informs the amorphous and intricate cortex of memory with important messages for today. Seeking an understanding of the past offers an opportunity to assess those among us who would proclaim themselves visionaries. Americans have always remembered the provocative assertions of the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Less well remembered, but equally provocative, are the words regarding the enumeration of citizens in the United States Constitution: “the whole number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons.” This effectively excluded “Indians” from citizenship and counted blacks and other ethnic groups and biracial individuals as 3⁄5 of a person. We are likewise reminded that Abraham Lincoln’s famous Emancipation Proclamation was infamous in that it emancipated no one, and his equally famous August 22, 1862 letter to Horace

Greeley stating that his “paramount objective . . . is to save the Union, and is not either to save or destroy slavery.” Sometimes, lacking heros we need to create them for the national ethos, for the heroic national sense of identity. While people have celebrated Emma Lazarus’ poem for the Statue of Liberty which includes the words, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,” they have simultaneously often wanted to make sure that the “huddled masses” are in someone else’s neighborhood. The fact is that equality has always been a flashpoint of conflict in American culture: notably, African Americans, indeed all people born in the United States or naturalized, did not receive citizenship until 1865, women did not attain the right to vote until 1920 and Native Americans—the ones who were here before Columbus—were not granted universal citizenship in their own land until 1924. The possession of citizenship has never guaranteed the allocation of equal Rights. Seeing how African Americans saw themselves and America during the far removed, but not too distant time of 1766 to 1916, and in turn how they were seen by others, provides an opportunity to consider the complex character of our forbearers, and to affirm what it means to be an American. Prejudice, denial, hatred: these are easy. More difficult is our own willingness to embrace the words of the Constitution and Bill of Rights for those who are today, in our midst, struggling for “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” In knowing something of the past we have the opportunity to understand more fully both the grace and brutality of how all Americans are seeing, and are being seen. John Driscoll

Frontispiece Sheldon Orrin Parsons (1866â&#x20AC;&#x201C;1943) Portrait of an Adolescent, c. 1890, oil on canvas, 18 âłŻ 14 in. (Detail on page 2)

Se e i n g a n d Se e n , 1766–1916

he history of the United States is riddled with contradictions, strife and revolution. America was founded not only on the principle “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,” but also on the blood, sweat and tears of slaves, whose presence proceeded the formation of the nation (Fig. 1). Thomas Jefferson, who penned those immortal words, himself, embodied the inconsistencies of the era by owning nearly two hundred slaves. Like Jefferson, the nation would espouse freedom, but practice slavery. In the midst of the revolution, as the colonists battled against Britain for independence, many Americans noted the inherent contradictions. Abigail Adams wrote to her husband John Adams in 1774 that, “It always seemed a most iniquitous scheme to me to fight ourselves for what we are daily robbing and plundering from those who have as good a right to freedom as we have.” 1 Ironically, the first casualty of the American Revolution would be that of a black man—Crispus Attucks in the Boston Massacre. This compromise of morality continued throughout the founding of the United States, as an overwhelming majority of presidents—twelve of the first eighteen— owned slaves.2 Even after the Civil War, which resulted in roughly 600,000 casualties and the death of a president, racism and the marginalization of African Americans and other minorities continued, as

Fig. 1. Advertisement for a runaway slave The Virginia Gazette, March 28, 1766

Fig. 2. Anonymous (often attributed to Scipio Moorhead) Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston Frontispiece to Phillis Wheatley, Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral. London: A. Bell, 1773

epitomized by the formation of the Ku Klux Klan. Yet through it all, overcoming immense adversity, African Americans have emerged as a core component of United States history, culminating with the 2008 election of Barack Obama as President. This contradictory, confusing and inspiring cultural journey has had many markers—not the least of which are works of art: expressions from the heart, soul and conscience of our greatest geniuses, and alternately expressions from the shadowy depths of a cruel, ignorant and debased consciousness. Three years prior to the writing of the Declaration of Independence, a different, but similarly remarkable work of literature was published, created not by white male leaders asserting independence from the British monarchy, but by a young black woman bound in servitude. Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral,3 1773 was written by Phillis Wheatley (1753–1784), a nineteen year old slave serving the Wheatley family of Boston. In an extremely rare case, the Wheatley family allowed Phillis, whose profound intellectual curiosity and fortitude in all likelihood could not have been contained, to obtain an education even few white women enjoyed.4 Her poems first appeared in Boston area newspapers in the late 1760s and early 1770s, before being published in book form. The book’s frontispiece shows Wheatley, quill pen in hand, deep in thought as she contemplates words for the page before her (Fig. 2). This image differs from virtually every other representation of female slaves in America during this period, in that black women were normally shown in brutish bondage, naked and sexually exploited—never graced by intellectual bearing. Even though Wheatley is portrayed as possessed of intellectual gifts, ultimately her slave status is impressed upon the viewer through the encircling inscription: “Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston.”5 Lauding a woman for her genius while still retaining her in servitude was one manifestation of the contradictions of an era when white men strove for independence while maintaining the enslavement of blacks.

Fig. 3. John Singleton Copley (1738–1815) Watson and the Shark, 1778, oil on canvas, 71¾ ⳯ 90½ in. National Gallery of Art, Ferdinand Lammot Belin Fund 1963.6.1

Though many colonists, such as Abigail Adams, commented on the inconsistencies of slave ownership, these cries were perhaps loudest from British loyalists. At the time that John Singleton Copley (1738– 1815) created his masterpiece, Watson and the Shark, 1778 (Fig. 3), the dominant British political parties, the Tories and the Whigs, were involved in a bitter clash of opinions over the American Revolution— the Tories supporting British control of the colonies and the Whigs supporting American independence. Brook Watson, a Tory leader, commissioned Copley to create Watson and the Shark based on the true story from Watson’s youth when he was attacked by a shark in Cuba’s Havana harbor, which resulted in the loss of the lower half of his right leg. The finished painting dramatically reconstructs this horrific event, showing Watson naked and vulnerable in the sea about to be attacked by the shark as the men in the boat struggle to save him. The inclusion of a black figure at the center of the composition, which is noticeably absent from the study for the work (Fig. 4), can be read as a purposeful addition alluding to Watson’s political sympathies. As a Tory, Watson was opposed to American independence, noting the inconsistencies of colonists’ requests, when they themselves held slaves captive. Yet, as a prominent merchant, Watson was also intimately tied to the slave trade. Albert Boime argues that in Copley’s painting, Watson is held up, “as an example and a warning of the impending punishment awaiting Americans unless they abandon their present path.”6 Watson is ultimately saved, importantly, by his British companions—a not so subtle message that the colonists should stay under the protection of the British crown. While underlining the contradictions of the American patriots, Watson and the Shark shies from an outright condemnation of slavery. Although the African American man stretches out his hand to Watson, perhaps offering his forgiveness and Watson’s redemption, he is not allowed a more active part of the rescue. Rather than an argument for the abolition of slavery, Watson

Fig. 4. John Singleton Copley (1738–1815) Watson and the Shark, 1777–78, black and white chalk on grey-green paper, 11¾ ⳯ 13¾ in.

Fig. 5. Edward Savage (1761–1817) The Washington Family, 1798, stipple and engraving, 185⁄16 ⳯ 247⁄16 in. Published March 10, 1798 by E. Savage & Robt Wilkinson, No. 68 Cornhill London.

and the Shark is a forceful reminder of the contradictions of the colonists and a push for British loyalty. While America gained independence, African Americans in the new nation would remain marginalized and degraded, a status reinforced by the Constitution—which allowed the continuation of the slave trade and required the recovery of runaway slaves. Edward Savage’s (1761–1817) The Washington Family, 1789–96 reﬂects the position of blacks in the recently formed United States. This work and the subsequent prints produced by Savage (Fig. 5) and numerous followers, show George Washington, Martha Washington and her grandchildren, Eleanor Parke Custis and George Washington Custis, gathered around a table upon which rests the plans for the capital city of Washington, D.C. All of

the figures, except—importantly—a black slave in the background, are listed in the caption along the bottom of the print. The black figure is not only excluded from the description, but is further set apart by how the artist intentionally portrayed him in the shadowy background, separated from the others by Martha’s massive, luxurious red velvet chair. The figure’s fancy garb further marginalized him and denoted servitude rather than status and equated him with the other decorative objects in the room, such as the chair and the plush drapery. While the white figures are actively engaged—each pointing or gesturing to the planned seat of power of the nation— tellingly, the slave is depicted with his hand tucked in his vest. Rather than having an active “hand” in the shaping of the nation, the slave is powerless and marginalized, his hands confined in his livery and trappings of servitude. More than forty years after the founding of the nation, many of the same questions regarding the future of slavery and the morality of the institution were still being raised in both politics and in art. During this time, African Americans were a favorite subject for American genre painters such as Thomas Mickell Burnham (1818–1866) (Fig. 6), Richard Caton Woodville (1825–1855) and William Sidney Mount (1807–1868). Mount was especially famous for his depictions of African

Fig. 6. Thomas Mickell Burnham (1818–1866) Boys Playing Paw, c. 1841, oil on canvas, 34 ⳯ 27 in.

Fig. 7. William Sidney Mount (1807–1868) The Power of Music!, 1848, lithograph, 14⅝ ⳯ 18⅝ in. Engraving by Leon-Noel. Published by Goupil, Vibert & Co., 289 Broadway, New York.

Americans in works such as The Power of Music!, 1848 (Fig. 7), Raffling for a Goose (The Lucky Throw), 1851 (Fig. 8) and Farmers Nooning, 1836 (Fig. 9). Farmers Nooning portrays an African American man taking a relaxing nap in the warm sun. His idle rest is shown in direct contrast to one of the white figure’s more productive activity of reading. (The stereotype of African Americans as lazy and ignorant was often promoted in genre paintings, though works such as A Student of ‘La Morte d’Arthur’ by Sir Thomas Malory [Fig. 10], which portrays a black figure with a book in his hand, actively engaged in learning refutes such claims.) Another, much younger boy in a tam-o’-shanter hat, occupies his time by tickling the ear of the sleeping black man. While perhaps not as easily recognizable today, the young boy’s appearance and actions would have been significant markers of the painting’s anti-abolitionist sentiment. Johns relates that, “graphic artists adopted the tam-o’-shanter, shorthand for Presbyterian, Scottish, and thus foreign-influenced opinions about emancipation, as a derisive visual symbol of the movement.”7 The boy threatens to wake the African American man from his peaceful slumber, with little regard for the possible range of reactions that may come from rousing him. As a symbol for slavery, the black figure’s peaceful slumber could be interpreted as the perceived happiness of slaves in the status quo, and what “tickles his ear” as abolitionist rhetoric, which, if successful, could lead to slave revolts and further violence. The scythe hanging precariously from the tree, as well as the rake, which has been left with sharp tines up within arm’s reach,

Fig. 8. William Sidney Mount (1807–1868) Raﬄing for a Goose (The Lucky Throw), 1851, hand colored two stone lithograph, 24⅞ ⳯ 19¾ in. Lithograph by La Fosse.

Fig. 9. William Sidney Mount (1807–1868) Farmers Nooning, 1843, steel engraving, 12⅝ ⳯ 16 in. Engraving by Alfred Jones. Published by The Apollo Association.

Fig. 10. American School (19th century) A Student of ‘La Morte d’Arthur’ by Sir Thomas Malory, gouache on paper, 9¾ ⳯ 7½ in.

Fig. 11. Louis Schultze (c. 1820– after 1895) Dred Scott, 1887, oil on canvas, 30 ⳯ 25 in. Missouri Historical Society

serve as threatening reminders of previous uprisings—such as the slave revolts in the West Indies only a year prior or Nat Turner’s 1831 Rebellion in Virginia. While Farmers Nooning promoted a beneﬁcial view of slavery, other works by artists such as Louis Schultze (c. 1820–after 1895), may have had more of an abolitionist leaning. Schultze was born in Germany and immigrated to the United States around 1855. He quickly established himself as an artist in St. Louis, Missouri, where Dred Scott and his wife Harriet had begun their landmark legal case, Dred Scott v. Sandford of 1857. Scott, a slave who had lived in northern states, sued for his freedom in the infamous trial that decided that all people of African ancestry, both slaves and free blacks, were not and could never be considered citizens of the United States and, therefore, could not sue in a federal court. Schultze, after being approached by a “group of Negro citizens,” created his most famous work, a portrait of Dred Scott (Fig. 11), which portrays the subject as introspective and self-possessed. Another work by Schultze, The Christening (Fig. 12), also gives a sympathetic portrayal of its black subjects. In the painting a group of African Americans gather in a dark room lit only by candle light. A mother and child are the focus of the group’s attention, in what is perhaps a christening. Although the painting contains hints of characterization, the overall subject matter and depiction emphasizes family, Christianity and the humanity of the African Americans. Painted during a period when the abolitionist movement was growing stronger (as evidenced in the publication of William Lloyd Garrison’s abolitionist newspaper, The Liberator, and the escape to freedom of thousands of slaves using the Underground Railroad), The Christening can be read as containing abolitionist sympathies. Elizabeth Johns hypothesizes that the immigrant status of artists such as Schultze left him free of an “inbred political investment in racial circumstances of the United States.” 8 His German nationality may have instilled in him an even greater interest

Fig. 12. Louis Schultze (c. 1820–after 1895) The Christening, oil on artistboard, 12½ ⳯ 16 in.

Fig. 13. Eastman Johnson (1824–1906) Negro Life at the South, 1859, chromolithograph, 18 ⳯ 24 in. Chromolithograph by Bencke & Scott. Published by Chas. C. Lucas & Co., New York, 1876.

in the abolitionist movement, as many German organizations, such as Turnerbund, the largest German-American association at the time, oﬃcially stated that the institution of slavery was, “unworthy of a republic and directly opposed to the principles of freedom.” 9 This German sympathy to the plight of slaves became so pronounced that abolitionist Frederick Douglass declared that, “A German has only to be a German to be utterly opposed to slavery. In feeling, as well as in conviction and principle, they are antislavery.” 10 Whatever Schultze’s reasons, The Christening remains a rare nineteenth century example of an image portraying an intimate and personal ceremony enacted by African Americans in a positive light. One of the last paintings to depict African American life before the onslaught of the Civil War was Eastman Johnson’s (1824–1906) Negro Life at the South, 1859 (Fig. 13). Johnson’s work gives a rare glimpse into the slave yard of a Washington, D.C. house. (This interest on the part of white viewers to “peek” into private spaces of African Americans would continue into the twentieth century in works like William Aiken Walker’s (1838–1921) Southern Cabin View [Fig. 14].) The yard is dilapidated, with rotted beams protruding from the building, broken windows and detritus covering the ground. Yet slaves that occupy the space are shown as content and happy, playing music, dancing and coyly ﬂirting. This ambiguous depiction allowed Negro Life at the South to be read during its initial reception by viewers as both an abolitionist work—which showed the horrible conditions of slavery—and as a pro-slavery

Fig. 14. William Aiken Walker (1838–1921) Southern Cabin View, oil on artistboard, 9 ⳯ 12 in.

image—which showed the content and carefree lives of slaves. John Davis observes that: If one concept can be said to characterize interpretation of Johnson’s image, it is that of ambiguity. The remarkable mutability of meaning of Negro Life at the South almost leaves the impression of the painting as a shapeless entity, endlessly shifting and adapting in reaction to changed social and political conditions. Despite a bewildering number of attempts to define it, Negro Life at the South has retained certain elasticity, refusing to be harnessed to a single political agenda or to the particular needs of specific viewers.11 Johnson’s personal politics do little to clear up the matter. While adamantly pro-Union once the Civil War began, during the creation of the work Johnson was living in Washington, D.C., a move necessitated by his father’s career as a functionary of the Democratic Party, which was supportive of slaveholder’s rights. The ability of this painting to be read by both northerners and southerners as supportive of their viewpoints greatly contributed to its immense popularity, while demonstrating the contradictory nature of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness” in midcentury America. Less than two years later, the violence of the Civil War erupted as Confederates attacked Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina. As north battled south, artists documented the war and reported on life at the front. George W. Pettit’s (1830–1895) Union Refugees, 1865 (Fig. 15) depicts a varied group—including men and women, old and young, black and white. The black figure, perhaps a slave on his way to freedom, looks out at the viewer with hope in his eyes. However, as Alfred R. Waud’s (1828–1891) The Teamsters’ Duel (Fig. 16), which was published on the front page of the January 17, 1863 issue of Harper’s

Fig. 15. George W. Pettit (1830–1895) Union Refugees, 1865, oil on canvas, 40 ⳯ 54 in.

Weekly, emphasizes real change would be slow coming. The illustration portrays two black teamsters, one of whom is shown with his face contorted into a hideous caricature, that lash at each other with whips, while the white viewers laugh and clap on the sidelines. The caption on the next page confirms this reading and describes the drawing as: The teamsters’ duel, from a sketch by Mr. Waud on page 33, is one of the humorous scenes in which our camps abound. When a quarrel arises between two colored teamsters a challenge passes, and the combatants lash each other with their long whips until one of them confesses that he can endure no more, and “throws up the sponge.” The other is pronounced the victor, and very frequently admonishes his vanquished foe of the necessity of better behavior in the future, amidst the roars and laugher of the white spectators. In a provocative, if not poignant juxtaposition of history, below this caption, the text of President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation is printed. Those famous words and the promise of freedom that: On the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free. . . These words ring a little less loudly when compared with the continuing belittlement and poor treatment of African Americans who were courageously on the front helping Northern armies fight the war. Even more shocking is yet another cartoon illustrated on the final page

of the same issue of Harper’s Weekly that depicts a newly emancipated slave. Titled Cutting His Old Associates (Fig. 17), the freed slave is shown sticking his nose arrogantly high in the air telling barnyard animals, “Ugh! Get out. I ain’t one ob you no more. I’se a Man, I is!” Though politically emancipated, black Americans were hardly free from racism and persecution. However, despite incredible discrimination and harassment, African American artists, such as Robert Scott Duncanson (1821–1872), created outstanding careers and beautiful works of art. Duncanson was born in Canada and moved to Cincinnati, Ohio as a young man with hopes of being an artist. In Cincinnati he found one of the largest concentrations of free African Americans in the United States. However, the necessary support of this thriving community was soon put in peril with increased anti-abolitionist sentiment that manifested itself in riots and murders in “Bucktown,” the city’s black district.12 The situation grew worse with the onslaught of the Civil War. Joseph Ketner explains that, “As the war waged on into 1863 the bleak prospects for peace and the deteriorating racial situation worried the artist,”13 and Duncanson opted to spend the second half of the war in self-imposed exile in Canada. There he found eager acceptance by

Fig. 16. Alfred R. Waud (1828–1891) The Teamsters’ Duel. Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1863 January 17, page 33

Fig. 17. Cutting His Old Associates Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1863 January 17, page 33

Fig. 18. Grafton Tyler Brown (1841–1918) View from Puget Sound With Mid Summer Eﬀect, Mount Tacoma, Washington, 1887, oil on canvasboard, 12 ⳯ 20 in.

the Canadian art community and inspiration from the surrounding landscape. Similarly, other African American artists such as Grafton Tyler Brown (1841–1918), whose luminist depictions of the Paciﬁc Northwest brought him recognition and success, would also ﬁnd refuge in the more racially tolerant environment of Canada (Fig. 18). Duncanson’s Mount Orford, 1864 (Fig. 19) was created in the midst of the Civil War the same year as the “Fort Pillow Massacre,” where Confederate troops shot and killed a number of unarmed black soldiers. Yet the Mount Orford painting does not reference any of these atrocities occurring back in America and instead presents a visual retreat from the cataclysmic upheaval of civil war through a serene view of the mountain and its glistening lake.

Fig. 19. Robert Scott Duncanson (1821–1872) Mount Orford, 1864, oil on canvas, 31 ⳯ 52 in.

Fig. 20. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) The Darktown Fire Brigade –To The Rescue!, 1884, hand colored lithograph, 8⅞ ⳯ 13¼ in. Published by Currier & Ives.

The completion of the Civil War and the Reconstruction period did little to improve the treatment and depiction of African Americans. In fact, resentment and racism seemed to grow, epitomized by the founding of the Ku Klux Klan in 1866 and the passing of the ﬁrst Jim Crow laws in 1881. Art historian Guy C. McElroy asserts that, “By the middle of the 1870s the gains black people had made following Emancipation were being sharply challenged by an increasingly violent segment of Americans dissatisﬁed with the premise of equality enforced by law and determined to limit the rights of blacks, by force if necessary.”14

Fig. 21. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) The Darktown Fire Brigade –Saved!, 1884, hand colored lithograph, 8⅞ ⳯ 13¼ in. Published by Currier & Ives.

This increased hostility is mirrored in the Darktown Comics series produced in the 1880s and 1890s by Currier & Ives, a company based not in the south, but in New York City. Works such as, The Darktown Fire Brigade–To the Rescue!, 1884 (Fig. 20) and The Darktown Fire Brigade– Saved!, 1884 (Fig. 21) ridicule African American ﬁremen on their way to put out a ﬁre, portraying their execution of everyday tasks as comical and inherently misguided. These demeaning images took many of their cues from minstrel shows, which also gained in popularity after the war. Both minstrel shows and the Darktown Comics reveal white

Fig. 22. Sol Eytinge (1833–1905) Christmas-time—Won at a Turkey Raﬄe, Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1874 January 3, page 8

Americans’ “fascination/horror with blackness,” contorting representations of blacks into cruel caricatures of subhuman, ruby-lipped, bulging-eyed creatures.15 White audiences loved the Darktown series and bought so many prints that it soon became one of Currier & Ives most popular products. In 1884 alone, they issued eighty-three different Darktown Comics, a full one-third of their total output.16 The Darktown series was based on the equally popular Blackville comics printed in Harper’s Weekly, which first appeared in the January 3, 1874 issue of the magazine (Fig. 22) and introduced the Smallbreeds, a highly caricatured black family. The Darktown Comics also served as inspiration for other artists’ work, as seen in the painting, Food for the Family, c. 1875 (Fig. 23). Widely distributed and purchased, the Darktown and Blackville series not only reflected a popular culture view of blacks, but were also a devastating reinforcement of many negative black stereotypes.

Fig. 23. American School (19th century) Food for the Family, c. 1875, oil on canvas, 18 ⳯ 27¼ in.

Fig. 24. Edward Mitchell Bannister (1828–1901) Lucretia Cordelia DeGrasse, after 1852, pastel on paper, 15¼ ⳯ 12¼ in.

Negative representations of African Americans, such as the Darktown series, were consistently produced and distributed throughout the nineteenth century. These harsh caricatures led Frederick Douglass in The Liberator 1849 to declare that, “Negroes can never have impartial portraits at the hands of white artists. It seems to us next to impossible for white men to take likenesses of black men, without most grossly exaggerating their distinct features.”17 Until African Americans portrayed themselves, it would seem impossible to achieve an accurate, dignified and sensitive portrait of a black subject. The portraits produced by Edward Mitchell Bannister (1828–1901), who advertised his services in The Liberator in the 1850s, 1863 and 1866 and was a friend of Douglass, are prime examples of what Douglass would have considered acceptable and necessary portrayals of African Americans. His portrait of Lucretia Cordelia DeGrasse (Fig. 24) presents the sitter as beautiful, thoughtful, lively and introspective. Bannister would continue to become a very successful landscape painter, producing masterworks such as Doryman, c. 1890 (Fig. 25) and becoming the first African American to win a national award with his first-place medal earned at the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. Upon hearing that his work won a first-prize medal, Bannister hurried to the exhibition hall, but as he later reminisced, was almost denied entrance: There was a great crowd there ahead of me. As I jostled among them, many resented my presence, some actually commenting within my hearing a most petulant manner: What is that colored person in here for? Finally when I succeeded in reaching the desk where inquiries were made, I endeavored to gain the attention of the official in charge. He was very insolent. Without raising his eyes, he demanded in the most exasperating tone of voice, “Well, what do you want here anyway? Speak

Fig. 25. Edward Mitchell Bannister (1828–1901) Doryman, c. 1880, oil on canvas, 23 ⳯ 36 in.

lively.” “I want to inquire concerning No. 54. Is it a prize winner?” “What’s that to you?” said he. In an instant my blood was up; the looks that passed between him and others in the room were unmistakable. I was not an artist to them, simply an inquisitive colored man. Controlling myself, I said deliberately, “I am interested in the report that Under the Oaks has received a prize. I painted the picture.”18

Fig. 26. Francesca Alexander (1837–1917) Julia Benson, 1852, ink on paper, 5⅛ ⳯ 4¾ in.

Though one hundred years after the United States declared its independence, and thirteen years after black slaves were allowed emancipation, the lines dividing the races continued to be stark and firm. Although the “grossly exaggerated” portraits of African Americans, that Frederick Douglass abhorred abounded, several beautiful and sensitive works by white artists do exist, revealing a compassionate core within white culture. One such example is Francesca Alexander’s (1837–1917) Julia Benson, 1852 (Fig. 26). Alexander lived in Boston at the time she created this image, before moving to Italy, where she was “discovered” by the prominent English artist John Ruskin. This drawing came from one of Alexander’s sketchbooks, which included numerous portraits of visitors to her parents’ house, including school mates and servants. While one may assume Julia Benson was a servant because of her skin color, her beautiful detailed clothing and fine accessories seem to indicate otherwise. Alexander created this drawing when she was just fifteen years old, around the same age as Benson. The intimate drawing suggests a closeness between the two girls, one that may have been strengthened not only by the girls’ ages, but also a shared feeling of marginalization— for as a female artist Alexander would have faced her share of adversity. While sensitive

Fig. 27. William Matthew Prior (1806–1873) Margaret Gardner Howard, oil on canvas, 25¾ ⳯ 21⅜ in.

Fig. 28. Lyell E. Carr (1857–1912) Noontime–Mending Chairs, 1897 watercolor on paper, 15½ ⳯ 10½ in.

portrayals of African American subjects may have been less common than their stereotyped counterparts, they are not completely rare, as other examples such as William Matthew Prior’s (1806–1873) Margaret Gardner Howard (Fig. 27) and Lyell E. Carr’s (1857–1912) Noontime–Mending Chairs (Fig. 28) demonstrate. However, even portraits that contain little caricature, such Thomas Waterman Wood’s (1823–1903) Gossip, 1890, (Fig. 29) reveal much about the continued inequalities of the time. Like Mount, black subjects were a favorite of Wood’s and can be found in works such as Cornfield (Southern Cornfield), 1861, White Rats, 1893 and The Faithful Nurse, to name a few. In Gossip, Wood depicts two African American nannies conversing while caring for their young charges. Tellingly, the woman looking after the black child is dressed in plainer clothes than woman caring for the white child, who is in a more elaborate dress and bonnet. The children themselves do not seem to acknowledge each other. Instead the African American child, who is seated in a carriage constructed from a tomato box, looks at the other’s velvety purple blanket and luxurious carriage, while the white child stares out at the viewer. The height of the blonde child’s carriage places her at a position in the composition above the black child. Though the only white figure in the painting, Wood

Fig. 29. Thomas Waterman Wood (1823–1903) Gossip, 1890, watercolor on paper, 29¼ ⳯ 24¼ in.

Fig. 30. Thomas Eakins (1844–1916) Portrait of Henry O. Tanner, c. 1897, oil on canvas, 24⅝ ⳯ 20⅛ in. The Hyde Collection, Glens Falls, New York

positions the child at the center of the painting, making an implicit statement not only on social status but on the continued racial hierarchy. Yet, other works such as Thomas Eakin’s (1844–1916) Portrait of Henry O. Tanner, c. 1897 (Fig. 30) show African Americans not just in stereotype-free portrayals, but as learned and accomplished. This painting recalls the intellectual significance of Phillis Wheatley’s 1763 visage, and shows Henry Ossawa Tanner (1859–1937) deep in thought, with his brow slightly furrowed and his eyes glancing downward. This perceptive portrait conveys the intellectual and visionary nature of Tanner’s being. Eakins had great respect for Tanner as an artist, and as a man, and this portrayal celebrates the considerable gifts of Tanner’s person. The portrait seems a repudiation of the despicable treatment Tanner encountered during his studies with Eakins in 1880 at the Pennsylvania Academy of Art. As the first African American student admitted to the Academy, Tanner faced great prejudice and racism. Joseph Pennell in his autobiography, The Adventures of an Illustrator relates his own and his classmates’ treatment of Tanner, stating that, “one night his easel was carried out into the middle of Broad Street and, though not painfully crucified, he was firmly tied to it and left there. And this is my only experience of my colored brothers in a white school; but it was enough.”19 The motives behind this horrible act were that Tanner “began to assert himself ” and “seemed to want things.” Tanner would later describe his time at the Academy recalling: I was extremely timid, and to be made to feel that I was not wanted, although in a place where I had every right to be, even

Fig. 31. Henry Ossawa Tanner (1859–1937) Midday, Tangiers, c. 1912, oil on canvas, 24⅛ ⳯ 20 in.

months afterwards caused me sometimes weeks of pain. Every time any one of these disagreeable incidents came to my mind, my heart sank, and I was anew tortured by the thought of what I had endured, almost as much as by the incident itself.20 Pennell, who himself never rose above the level of a pedantic illustrator, finishes his anecdote by declaring that, “Curiously, there never has been a great Negro or a great Jew artist in the history of the world.” Proving Pennell’s statements false, Tanner went on to become an artist of international recognition, and was the first African American artist to earn a honorable mention at the Paris Salon (1896) and the first black artist elected to full membership at the National Academy of Design, far-eclipsing the career of the small-minded Pennell, much to Tanner’s credit. His paintings, such as Midday, Tangiers, c. 1912 (Fig. 31) reveal the artist’s immense talent, original style and fluent technical abilities in painting. The images created during the formulation, foundation, division and reformation of the nation are powerful reflections of what our society viewed as inspirational, ridiculous and sublime during a significant time in our history. These works of art, prints and broadsides had vast currency and mirrored both cultivated and popular culture views, while at the same time shaping and reinforcing them. In the case of African American representations, these depictions were most often negative, racist and derogatory. Yet, powerful examples of sensitive and supportive portrayals of blacks do exist, along with inspiring and successful careers by African American artists. All portrayals become betrayals in revealing the innermost truths of prejudice and praise. By viewing and acknowledging the visual record of our history, we can achieve a better understanding of who our forbearers were and who we need to be in achieving unalienable rights for all.

notes 1. Abigail Adams to John Adams, Sept. 22, 1774, as in Lyman Butterﬁeld, ed., Adams Family Correspondence (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1863), I: 162, 13–14. 2. These presidents included George Washington, Thomas Jeﬀerson, James Madison, Andrew Jackson, Martin Van Buren, William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, James T. Polk, Zachary Taylor, Andrew Jackson and Ulysses S. Grant. 3. Phillis Wheatley, Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral (London: Printed for A. Bell, 1773). 4. Gwendolyn DuBois Shaw, “‘On Deathless Glories Fix Thine Ardent View’: Scipio Moorhead, Phillis Wheatley and the Mythic Origins of AngloAfrican Portraiture in New England.” Portraits of a People: Picturing African Americans in the Nineteenth Century (Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 2006): 26–43. 5. Eventually, the Wheatleys, under great pressure, did release Phillis from her servitude. 6. For more on this painting, see Albert Boime, “Blacks in Shark-Infested Waters: Visual Encodings of Racism in Copley and Homer,” Race-ing Art History: Critical Readings in Race and Art History. Kimberly N. Pinder, ed. (New York and London: Routledge, 2002): 169–190. 7. Elizabeth Johns, American Genre Painting (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1991): 34. 8. Elizabeth Johns, American Genre Painting (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1991): 114. 9. David McBride, Leroy Hokins, and C. Aisha Blackshire-Belay, eds. Crosscurrrents: African Americans, Africa, and Germany in the Modern World (Columbia, SC: Camden House, 1998): 54–55.

10. Frederick Douglass, “Adopted Citizens and Slavery,” Douglass’s Monthly, August, 1859. 11. John Davis, “Eastman Johnson’s Negro Life at the South and Urban Slavery in Washington, D.C.” The Art Bulletin 80, no. 1 (March, 1998): 67–92; 84. 12. Joseph Ketner, The Emergence of the AfricanAmerican Artist: Robert S. Duncanson, 1821–1872 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1993): 3. 13. Joseph Ketner, The Emergence of the AfricanAmerican Artist: Robert S. Duncanson, 1821–1872 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1993): 134. 14. Guy C. McElroy, Facing History: The Black Image in American Art 1710–1940 (Washington, D.C.: Corcoran Gallery of Art, 1990): xviii. 15. Michael D. Harris, Colored Pictures: Race & Visual Representation (Chapel Hill and London: University of North Carolina Press, 2003): 3. 16. Bryan F. LeBeau, “African Americans in Currier and Ives’s America: The Darktown Series,” Journal of American & Comparative Cultures 23, no. 1 (Spring 2000): 71–83. 17. Frederick Douglass, “Negro Portraits,” The Liberator, April 20, 1849. 18. Romare Bearden and Harry Henderson, A History of African American Artists from 1792 to the Present (New York: Pantheon Books, 1993): 45. 19. Joseph Pennell, The Adventures of an Illustrator (Boston: Little Brown, 1925): 53. 20. Henry Ossawa Tanner, “The Story of an Artist’s Life,” World’s Work 18 (June 1909): 11664.

selected bibliography Bearden, Romare and Harry Henderson. A History of African-American Artists from 1792 to the Present. New York: Pantheon Books, 1993. Boime, Albert. The Art of Exclusion: Representing Blacks in the Nineteenth Century. Washington, D.C. and London: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1990. Boime, Albert. “Henry Ossawa Tanner’s Subversion of Genre.” The Art Bulletin, Vol. 75, No. 3 (September 1993), pp. 415–442. Boime, Albert. “Blacks in Shark-Infested Waters: Visual Encodings of Racism in Copley and Homer.” Race-ing Art History: Critical Readings in Race and Art History. Kymberly N. Pinder, ed. New York and London: Routledge, 2002. Carbone, Teresa A. and Patricia Hills. Eastman Johnson: Painting America. Brooklyn: Brooklyn Museum of Art, 1999. Casper, Scott E. “First First Family: Seventy Years with Edward Savage’s The Washington Family.” Journal of the American Historical Print Collectors Society, Vol. 24, No. 2 (Autumn 1999), pp. 2–15. Davis, John. “Eastman Johnson’s Negro Life at the South and Urban Slavery in Washington, D.C.” The Art Bulletin, Vol. 80, No. 1 (March 1998), pp. 67–92. Dorman, Franklin A. Twenty Families of Color in Massachusetts, 1742–1998. Boston: NE Historic Genealogical Society, 1998, pp. 144–147; 154–157.

Douglass, Frederick. “Negro Portraits.” The Liberator, Vol. 19, No. 6, April 20, 1849. Douglass, Frederick. “Adopted Citizens and Slavery.” Douglass’ Monthly, August 1859. Du Bois, W. E. B. The Souls of Black Folk. Unabridged edition. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1994. Frankenstein, Alfred. William Sidney Mount. New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 1975. Freeman, P. “Origin, History and Hopes of the Negro Race.” Frederick Douglass Paper, January 27, 1854. Harris, Michael D. Colored Pictures: Race & Visual Representation. Chapel Hill and London: The University of North Carolina Press, 2003. Horton, James Oliver and Lois E. Horton, eds. Slavery and Public History: The Tough Stuﬀ of American Memory. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2006. Isani, Mukhtar Ali. “The Contemporaneous Reception of Phillis Wheatley: Newspaper and Magazine Notices During the Years of Fame, 1765–1774.” The Journal of Negro History, Vol. 85, No. 4 (Autumn 2000), pp. 260–273. Jennings, Corrine. Edward Mitchell Bannister. New York: Whitney Museum of American Art, 1992.

Johns, Elizabeth. American Genre Painting: The Politics of Everyday Life. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1991. Kaplan, Sidney. “The Negro in the Art of Homer and Eakins.” The Massachusetts Review, Vol. 7, No. 1 (Winter 1966), pp. 105–120. Ketner, Joseph D. The Emergence of the AfricanAmerican Artist: Robert S. Duncanson, 1821–1872. Columbia and London: University of Missouri Press, 1993. Le Beau, Bryan F. “African Americans in Currier and Ives’s America: The Darktown Series.” Journal of American & Comparative Cultures, Vol. 23, No. 1 (Spring 2000), pp. 71–83.

Porter, James A. Modern Negro Art. Washington, D.C.: Howard University Press, 1992. Powell, Richard J. Black Art: A Cultural History. 2nd ed. London: Thames and Hudson Inc., 2003. Shaw, Gewndolyn DuBois. Portraits of a People: Picturing African Americans in the Nineteenth Century. Andover, MA: Addison Gallery of American Art, 2006. Thompson, Jr., William Fletcher. “Pictorial Images of the Negro during the Civil War.” The Wisconsin Magazine of History, Vol. 48, No. 4 (Summer 1965), pp. 282–294. Wood Art Gallery. Thomas Waterman Wood, PNA: 1823–1903. Montpelier, VT: Wood Art Gallery, 1972.

McElroy, Guy C. Facing History: The Black Image in American Art 1710–1940. San Francisco and Washington, D.C.: Bedford Arts Publishers in association with the Corcoran Gallery of Art, 1990. Matthews, Marcia M. Henry Ossawa Tanner: American Artist. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995. Patton, Sharon F. African-American Art. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1998. Pennell, Joseph. The Adventures of an Illustrator, Mostly in Following His Authors in America and Europe. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1925.

Fig. 32. American School (19th century) Portrait of the Venerable Pierre Toussaint (1766–1853), c. 1835, oil on canvas, 18 3⁄16 ⳯ 143⁄16 in.

exhibition checklist Francesca Alexander (1837–1917) Julia Benson, 1852 Ink on paper, 5⅛ ⳯ 4¾ inches Babcock Galleries, New York

James Presley Ball (1825–1904) Portrait of Three Girls Photograph, 6¾ ⳯ 5 inches Kenkeleba Gallery, New York

American School (19th century) A Student of ‘La Morte d’Arthur’ by Sir Thomas Malory Gouache on paper, 9¾ ⳯ 7½ inches Paul Worman Fine Art

Edward Mitchell Bannister (1828–1901) Doryman, circa 1880 Oil on canvas, 23 ⳯ 36 inches Kenkeleba Gallery, New York

American School (19th century) Cutting His Old Associates Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1863 January 17, page 33 American School (19th century) Food for the Family, circa 1875 Oil on canvas, 18 ⳯ 27¼ inches Hirschl & Adler Galleries, Inc. American School (19th century) Portrait of the Venerable Pierre Toussaint (1766–1853), circa 1835 Oil on canvas, 18 3⁄16 ⳯ 143⁄16 inches Sumpter Priddy iii, Inc. Anonymous (often attributed to Scipio Moorhead) Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston Frontispiece to Phillis Wheatley, Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral. London: A. Bell, 1773 Reed Orenstein Rare Books, abaa

Edward Mitchell Bannister (1828–1901) Lucretia Cordelia DeGrasse, after 1852 Pastel on paper, 15¼ ⳯ 12¼ inches Kenkeleba Gallery, New York Grafton Tyler Brown (1841–1918) View from Puget Sound With Mid Summer Eﬀect, Mount Tacoma, Washington, 1887 Oil on canvasboard, 12 ⳯ 20 inches Babcock Galleries, New York Thomas Mickell Burnham (1818–1866) Boys Playing Paw, circa 1841 Oil on canvas, 34 ⳯ 27 inches Courtesy of Godel & Co., Inc., New York Lyell E. Carr (1857–1912) Noontime–Mending Chairs, 1897 Watercolor on paper, 15½ ⳯ 10½ inches Spanierman Gallery, New York James Wells Champney (1843–1903) Fishing for Crab Ink and gouache on paper, 9 ⳯ 7¾ inches Paul Worman Fine Art

John Singleton Copley (1738–1815) Watson and the Shark, 1777–78 Black and white chalk on grey-green paper, 11¾ ⳯ 13¾ inches Adelson Galleries, New York Theodore R. Davis (1840–1894) A Slave Auction at the South Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1864 July 13, page 442 Robert Scott Duncanson (1821–1872) Mount Orford, 1864 Oil on canvas, 31 ⳯ 52 inches Babcock Galleries, New York Sol Eytinge (1833–1905) Christmas-time—Won at a Turkey Raﬄe Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1874 January 3, page 8 Sol Eytinge (1833–1905) No Small Breed Fer Yer Uncle Abe Dis Chris’mas! Ain’t He a Cherub? Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1876 January 1, page 5 James Hope (1818–1892) Broadway, Sunday, 1840 Ink on paper, 7½ ⳯ 5½ inches Babcock Galleries, New York Eastman Johnson (1824–1906) Negro Life at the South, 1859 Chromolithograph, 18 ⳯ 24 inches Chromolithograph by Bencke & Scott Published by Chas. C. Lucas & Co., New York, 1876 Philadelphia Print Shop

S. G. McCutcheon (circa 1844–1884) Domestic Interior, 1879 Ink wash on paper, 5¾ ⳯ 8¾ inches Paul Worman Fine Art William Sidney Mount (1807–1868) Farmers Nooning, 1843 Steel engraving, 12⅝ ⳯ 16 inches Engraving by Alfred Jones Published by The Apollo Association The Old Print Shop, Inc. William Sidney Mount (1807–1868) Raﬄing for a Goose (The Lucky Throw), 1851 Hand colored two stone lithograph, 24⅞ ⳯ 19¾ inches Lithograph by La Fosse Published by W. Schaus The Old Print Shop, Inc. William Sidney Mount (1807–1868) The Power of Music!, 1848 Lithograph, 14⅝ ⳯ 18⅝ inches Engraving by Leon-Noel Published by Goupil, Vibert & Co., 289 Broadway, New York The Old Print Shop, Inc. Sheldon Orrin Parsons (1866–1943) Portrait of an Adolescent, circa 1890 Oil on canvas, 18 ⳯ 14 inches Paul Worman Fine Art George W. Pettit (1830–1895) Union Refugees, 1865 Oil on canvas, 40 ⳯ 54 inches Turak Gallery William Matthew Prior (1806–1873) Margaret Gardner Howard Oil on canvas, 25¾ ⳯ 21⅜ inches Kenkeleba Gallery, New York

Edward Savage (1761–1817) The Washington Family, 1798 Stipple and engraving, 185⁄16 ⳯ 247⁄16 inches Published March 10th 1798 by E. Savage & Robt Wilkinson, No. 68 Cornhill London The Old Print Shop, Inc. Louis Schultze (circa 1820–after 1895) The Christening Oil on artistboard, 12½ ⳯ 16 inches Courtesy of Godel & Co., Inc., New York Arthur Tait (1819–1905) Catching a Trout (We Hab you now sar), 1854 Hand colored lithograph, 18½ ⳯ 25½ inches Published by Currier & Ives The Old Print Shop, Inc. Henry Ossawa Tanner (1859–1937) Midday, Tangiers, circa 1912 Oil on canvas, 24⅛ ⳯ 20 inches Babcock Galleries, New York William Aiken Walker (1838–1921) Southern Cabin View Oil on artistboard, 9 ⳯ 12 inches Michael A. Latragna Fine Paintings Alfred R. Waud (1828–1891) The Teamsters’ Duel Illustrated in Harper’s Weekly, 1863 January 17, page 33 Thomas Waterman Wood (1823–1903) Gossip, 1890 Watercolor on paper, 29¼ ⳯ 24¼ inches T. W. Wood Gallery & Arts Center

Richard Caton Woodville (1825–1855) War News from Mexico, 1853 Hand colored engraving, 29 9⁄16 ⳯ 18 7⁄16 inches Engraving by Alfred Jones. Published by the American Art Union The Old Print Shop, Inc. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) The Darktown Fire Brigade – To The Rescue!, 1884 Hand colored lithograph, 8⅞ ⳯ 13¼ inches Published by Currier & Ives The Old Print Shop, Inc. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) The Darktown Fire Brigade – Saved!, 1884 Hand colored lithograph, 8⅞ ⳯ 13¼ inches Published by Currier & Ives The Old Print Shop, Inc. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) Black Duck Shooting, 1879 Hand colored lithograph, 8⅜ ⳯ 13½ inches Published by Currier & Ives The Old Print Shop, Inc. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) De Boss Rooster, 1882 Hand colored lithograph, 9½ ⳯ 14 inches Published by Currier & Ives The Old Print Shop, Inc. Thomas Worth (1834–1917) The Defeat of the Favorite (De Boss Rooster) Watercolor and graphite on illustration board, 10½ ⳯ 14⅜ inches The Old Print Shop, Inc.