John Tenniel (1820-1914) was one of nineteenth-century England's most prolific and highly-regarded illustrators. Among his peers he was noted for his acute visual memory, which enabled him to recall (and re-use) compositional arrangements and details from a wide variety of sources, ranging from historic works of art to contemporary photographs, all the while blending these in a seemingly effortless way with his keen observation of the world around him. His skill in conveying meaning through nuanced figure poses, gestures, and facial expressions was well-known, as was his facility for shifting easily between realism and caricature in his representations of public personalities.

Tenniel achieved worldwide recognition through his original illustrations for Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865) and Through the Looking Glass (1872). Translated into many languages, these books helped to introduce his distinctive style to non-English readers. Anyone familiar with the Alice books will probably find it hard to read Carroll's words without recalling Tenniel's quirky personalities and anthropomorphized animals: in fact, nearly every subsequent artist who has attempted to visualize these texts has inevitably succumbed to the influence of Tenniel's original illustrations, and ends up quoting them to a certain degree.

As chief illustrator for the British humor periodical Punch, Tenniel, along with his mentor, John Leech, was largely responsible for developing the concept of the topical political cartoon as we know it today. Each weekly issue of Punch featured a principal cartoon, sometimes called the “big cut,” commenting on a significant event or issue of the day. Frequently these dealt with international relations and British foreign policy. Between December, 1860, and May, 1865, the American Civil War was the subject of 56 of these "principal cartoons" (27% of the possible total over a run of 205 issues). All but two of these cartoons may be attributed to Tenniel on stylistic grounds, though not all of the earlier examples are signed with his distinctive monogram, which he began to use consistently only in the latter months of 1862.

Punch, a weekly which had begun publication in 1841, originally promoted mildly liberal, anti-establishment views. By the 1860s, however, its educated, upper class readership tended to back the Tories (Conservatives), and the publication's focus on political and social satire typically reflected the prejudices of its subscribers. They apparently looked down their noses at anyone who was not part of their own well-to-do, university-educated, Church of England elite. Those on the outside included members of the British working class, any Europeans who opposed British policies, and Americans in general (the latter condescendingly regarded as little more than mongrelized Brits at best). Particularly disturbing by today's standards, Punch directed some of its most openly vicious satirical attacks against adherents of non-Protestant religions (such as Catholics or Hindus), non-Anglo-Saxon ethnic groups (Irish, Italians), and racial minorities (Asian, Hispanic, and African-origin peoples).

Even a brief perusal of the 56 Punch cartoons dealing with the American Civil War suggests that, comfortably situated across the Atlantic, the British frequently misunderstood not only the causes of the conflict, but also the depth of feeling felt by partisans on both sides. While troubled by Southern insistence on the continuation of slavery, which the British had abolished in the 1830s and now regarded as economically obsolete, the English upper crust had a natural affinity for the cotton states' ruling class: a white, chivalrous, Anglo-Saxon aristocracy not unlike their image of themselves. The North troubled them more: a polyglot, multi-ethnic, rapidly developing industrial powerhouse whose freewheeling capitalism echoed its belief in meritocracy, the notion that an individual's wealth and social standing could be shaped by his own efforts, independent of tradition and family heritage. The British establishment of the 1860s regarded participatory democracy as chaotic and messy: to their way of thinking, government was best left to those born and reared to be rulers. Like many across the Atlantic, the British completely miscalculated the willingness of millions of Americans, North and South, to fight for principle over temporary economic advantage; to spend their treasure and the blood of vast citizen armies in defense of relative abstractions like "Union," "Emancipation," and "States Rights;" to engage in a protracted, agonizing prototype of "total war."

In presenting Tenniel's Civil War cartoons for comparative study, it is my intention in this web publication to share my research and interpretations of individual images and their accompanying texts. I'm also interested in pointing out affinities between related cartoons, and between certain cartoons and the antecedent art and literary works that provided Tenniel and his colleagues at Punch with sources of inspiration. Here are several themes the reader may wish to join me in examining:

Historic Individuals in the Tenniel Cartoons

Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) is today among the most honored of America's historic personalities, widely regarded as one of our greatest Presidents. He is revered as the Great Emancipator, and admired as the steadfast defender of the Constitution and national integrity in the face of crushing adversity. His ability as a politician to balance firm resolve with practical flexibility has been held up as a model for lesser leaders. The events of his life have been shaped into a familiar national heroic archetype: born into poverty and obscurity, he rises by his own efforts "from log cabin to the White House;" in crisis, he is resolute; in victory, compassionate; in the moment of triumph, he gives his life as a martyr for the redemption of his nation and its people.

So polished has his image become in retrospect that it often comes as a shock to modern observers to discover how widely reviled Lincoln was during his own lifetime. Not only Europeans and Southerners, but many in the North as well, frequently dismissed him as a mere backwoods bumpkin, a bemused incompetent, or a cynical opportunist. Some American cartoons of the war years present Lincoln as arrogant and heartless, as a scheming would-be dictator -- and even as the Devil incarnate. Visitors to this site will observe that Tenniel's cartoons encompass all of these negative views of Lincoln. Yet the artist himself could not help but acknowledge the dominant influence of Lincoln's personality in shaping the course of the war: fully two-thirds of Tenniel's Civil War cartoons (36 out of 54) include Lincoln as a principal figure.

Lincoln's face often assumes an evil, even demonic, appearance under Tenniel's facile pen, which emphasizes the President's black beard, craggy features, bushy eyebrows, and prominent nose [620726, 621018, 641105, 641203]. Lincoln is typically shown wearing the dark tailcoat (sometimes poorly cut or incorrectly sized), striped trousers and star-spangled vest that will eventually, in the hands of American political cartoonists such as Thomas Nast, become the characteristic costume of Uncle Sam [620809, 620823, 620927]. Notably absent in the cartoons is Lincoln's iconic top hat. Instead, Tenniel focuses on Old Abe's tousled, untidy mass of coarse, dark hair, hinting that his unkempt appearance indelibly recalls his lower class origins [620726, 620823, 620927].

Lincoln's body language is also intended to show him as boorish and unrefined [620927, 621018, 640924]. Tenniel often employs Lincoln's unusual height for comic effect, subtly using the cartoon's framing border to compress the President's pose as he attempts to interact with "normal-sized" people [620809, 630509]. Lincoln's long, rangy limbs are attenuated to awkward proportions. His comically oversized feet are shown stuffed into a frontiersman's crude boots [620823, 631024, 650218], unlike the fashionable footwear worn by English gentlemen.

Compared to Lincoln, the aloof, aristocratic Confederate President Jefferson Davis (1808-1889) is much less clearly defined in Tenniel's drawings. He is explicitly mentioned in the captions, subcaptions, or accompanying texts of only three of the cartoons [610518, 631010, 640827]. In seven of the cartoons, he is paired with Lincoln as the Northern President's symbolic foil; but Lincoln is more frequently shown opposite a generic representative of the Confederacy, often an officer in military garb. Tenniel also seems uncertain about Davis' appearance, which varies considerably from one cartoon to another. The probable reason for this lack of consistency is that Tenniel did not have ready access to authentic portraits of Davis to use as models, as he did for Lincoln. Northern newspapers and illustrated periodicals, brought to Southampton by fast mail steamers within as brief a time as ten days to two weeks from their dates of publication, were readily available in London. Southern publications, on the other hand, rarely reached Europe. These typically lacked the technical resources to include topical illustrations. As the war progressed, Southern papers reduced their runs due to newsprint shortages. Because of the Union naval blockade, most papers that did continue to publish were only distributed locally.

In stark contrast to his representations of American leaders, North and South, Tenniel invests his portrayals of British leaders with far greater dignity and respect. Outright caricature is scrupulously avoided. Prime Minister (Viscount) Palmerston (1784-1865) is treated realistically, giving him an air of reserved gravity [621122, 640827].
The British foreign minister, (Earl) John Russell (1792-1878), is lauded for his firm, aggressive response to American actions that appear to encroach on British sovereignty. On two occasions, Tenniel grafts a realistic head of Russell onto the trim, stalwart body of an English schoolboy, ready to fight for his nation's honor [611221, 620118].

The only other actual contemporary personality to appear in multiple cartoons is Louis Napoleon, or Napoleon III (1808-1873), ruler of France during the period known as the Second Empire. In his depictions of the Emperor, Tenniel demonstrates his skill at finding a middle ground between realism and caricature. This allows him to endow the French leader with more dignity than the comically ridiculous Americans [620208, 620621], but less than the wholly realistic Palmerston [621122].

Given the extensive coverage of military campaigns and the profusion of engraved portraits appearing in American newspapers and periodicals, anyone familiar with the Civil War may be surprised at the major personalities and events that do not appear in the Tenniel cartoons. Readers will search the pages of Punch in vain for any mention of major battles and campaigns such as Antietam (Sharpsburg), Gettysburg, Vicksburg, or Atlanta. There are no representations of Union Generals Ulysses S. Grant and William Tecumseh Sherman, or of Admiral David Glasgow Farragut; similarly absent is the revered Confederate commander Robert E. Lee, as are his generals including Joe Johnston, James Longstreet, and Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson. Two figures, appearing in separate cartoons, may have been loosely inspired by Union General George B. McClellan [620823] and Confederate P. T. E. Beauregard [620927], but they are not identified by name, and function primarily as foils for Lincoln.

African Americans in the Tenniel Cartoons

Black Americans appear in twelve of the cartoons. Tenniel tends to treat them in a condescending, stereotypic manner. In his own time such images were doubtless regarded as humorous; the modern reader is more likely to see them as examples of blatant racism. Southern slaves are typically shown wearing simple white cotton work shirts and short trousers, and are usually barefoot [601201; 610119; 650506]. Free Northern blacks are sometimes differentiated by their better-dressed appearance, including long trousers and shoes [620809; 630808]. Blacks (always male) are alternatively the hapless victims of oppression by the Southern slavocracy [610119], the dupes of Lincoln and his Black Republican cronies [620809, 630124], or gleeful observers of the white man's cataclysmic war [610518; 620913]. Tenniel and his contemporary British audience seem a bit too eager to dismiss out of hand the notion that blacks themselves had the capacity to be good soldiers, willing to fight and die for their freedom [630926; 641119] -- perhaps because of concerns about the possible implications of such a radical idea for the future of their own Anglo-Saxon Empire's dominion over darker-skinned people around the world.

The cartoons' captions and text balloons often contain examples of pseudo-black dialect speech. While the intent is humorous, it also serves as a way to underscore the presumed social and intellectual gulf between the childlike, uneducated African American and Punch's sophisticated, urbane, upper-class readers. It is unlikely that Tenniel and his colleagues were familiar with actual black speech. As an avid patron of the theatre, Tenniel may have attended performances by American minstrel troupes, some of which had toured to London. In these shows, white actors in burnt-cork blackface makeup parodied the "characteristic" language, music, and dancing of blacks (who in many American cities were not themselves permitted to appear on stage). From the vantage of hindsight, we can see today that the minstrel shows allowed the dominant white culture to use humor to depersonalize blacks and perpetuate stereotypes of racial inferiority.

Allegorical Figures and National Symbols in the Tenniel Cartoons

John Bull has long stood as the personification of British Empire. Although his name and character originated in the eighteenth century, his traditional appearance was largely fixed by Tenniel and his mid-nineteenth century contemporaries, and has remained virtually unchanged since. He is instantly recognizable by his round, ruddy face, curly dark hair and sideburns, and stocky build with a bit of a paunch (which by Victorian standards was regarded as a sign of prosperity, rather than being considered evidence of indulgence). Indeed, we are supposed to regard his sturdy, well-fed appearance as the reward he has earned through his industry, thrift, and personal virtue.

John Bull wears a round, black, short-brimmed hat (still called a "John Bull"), and is dressed in square-tailed coat, decorated waistcoat, jabot, breeches with side buttons at the knee, and cuffed boots. When outdoors, he typically carries a walking stick [611116]. His social standing seems to vary: he is a sometimes a member of the rural gentry [620111]; at other times he is a shopkeeper or small business proprietor [631003].

Generally even-tempered, John Bull is patient and reasonable; yet he is also firm in his resolve when pushed too far by those who presume to take advantage of him [611207]. In some of the cartoons he seems to represent government policy. More often, however, Tenniel prefers to present him as the embodiment of public opinion, a sort of English Everyman. John Bull's respectable common sense is underscored by his appearance in domestic settings as a sort of paterfamilias, judiciously slow to anger, yet watchfully keeping his household safe from threat and discord [611221; 631114].

The earliest personification of the American Republic was Brother Jonathan rather than Uncle Sam. Originally a broad-hatted Quaker, Brother Jonathan first appeared in the latter eighteenth century, and remained a familiar figure until around the time of the Civil War. His personality and appearance were shaped largely by British writers and illustrators, who delighted in portraying him as a poor, uncouth provincial. English illustrators of the Victorian era, including Tenniel, continued to employ Brother Jonathan, often as a way of denigrating the United States, even as the more venerable and dignified Uncle Sam gained popularity at home, where his now-iconic appearance was defined by American political cartoonists such as Thomas Nast.

Brother Jonathan shares certain physical characteristics with Uncle Sam. He is tall and lanky, and by the mid-nineteenth century often wears an early version of Uncle Sam's familiar stars-and-stripes costume. But under Tenniel's satirical pencil he is seldom an admirable figure. The artist emphasizes Jonathan's long, stringy hair, his curved, drooping nose and pointed chin [620208]. While he is sometimes clean-shaven, he also may be shown sporting a scrawny chin beard, and at other times appears grizzled, as if in need of a barber [620118]. His clothing is often bunched or patched at the elbows and knees. He sometimes wears a battered straw hat and well-worn boots, both indicative of his unrefined frontier manner [601201]. Clearly, he is no gentleman.

Brother Jonathan is frequently presented as cocky and arrogant, short-tempered and pugnacious; yet when put to the test, this bully is exposed as a sniveling coward [611207]. An overly emotional fellow, his behavior is by turns bellicose and ingratiating. Sometimes he wears a semblance of a military uniform, but in a way that casts aspersion on the undisciplined, rag-tag nature of the pre-War American militias. He may be armed with weapons such as a cutlass, pistols, or Bowie knife, but these are worn or wielded in such a way as to make him appear more like a frontier vigilante than a real soldier.

Tenniel seemed to take particular delight in depicting Brother Jonathan as a bratty, spoiled little boy in need of firm discipline [610706; 620118; 630502]. During the early months of the Civil War, Tenniel sometimes cloned Brother Jonathan into a pair of nearly-identical twins, North and South, differentiating them only by subtle details of their clothing [620607; 631003]. As the War continued, the months turning into years, Tenniel gradually stopped using Brother Jonathan, while grafting certain of his features onto his representations of Lincoln [610928; 611221; 620809].

Tenniel depicts Britannia, the female personification of Great Britain, in two distrinctly different ways. When important matters of state and national security are concerned, she is rendered realistically as a young woman in the guise of the Greco-Roman goddess Minerva, wearing a crested helmet and aegis (upper body armor), and sometimes armed with spear and shield [611214; 641231; 650325]. In other contexts, Tenniel's representations lean more towards caricature: Britannia can also appear as a plump middle-class matron embodying comfortable domesticity [610706; 641001]. In the latter instances her crested helmet becomes a stylish bonnet topped with a folded and starched decoration; the Union Jack motif appears on her apron rather than on a warrior's shield.

Columbia, the female personification of America, is depicted as an attractive but inexperienced young woman [611228]. Depending on the tone of a particular cartoon, she may be attired in classical garb (recalling "Lady Liberty" in the Franco-American tradition), or may alternatively appear in modern Victorian dress [641001]. In this latter example, Columbia is clearly being schooled by the older and wiser Britannia, a relationship which is also implicit in the pendent pair of [611214] and [611228].

Although lions had appeared prominently in the heraldic devices of medieval English monarchs, Tenniel and his fellow cartoonists of the mid-nineteenth century were influential in making the British Lion into a modern symbol of Empire. The artist's realistic renderings of the Lion dominate cartoons that focus on Britain's strength and dignity [630502, 631031]. On the other hand, Tenniel's skill in investing animals with anthropomorphic personalities is demonstrated in the dapper, gentlemanly Lion who discusses with the supercilious French eagle whether to intervene in the American debacle [620913].

The American Eagle is regarded with suspicion by Tenniel and his readers. Americans should recall that the eagle has served as a symbol for many other nations. Roman legionary troops carried eagle standards into battle. More recently, the eagle had been a widely used symbol of Napoleonic France in its titanic struggles against the British. Tenniel may have been unfamiliar with the North American bald eagle, with its distinctive (and implicitly dignified) white head. His eagles instead seem ominous and predatory [611102; 611228]. In a unique (and oddly disconcerting) departure, Tenniel anthropomorphizes America as a gigantic eagle dressed in the stars-and-stripes attire typically associated with Lincoln/Brother Jonathan/Uncle Sam [650218].

Literary Inspirations and References in the Tenniel Cartoons

Punch's readership was literate and well-educated. A political cartoonist like Tenniel could assume that most of his university-trained readers would understand, and appreciate, allusions to classical literature, the visual arts, poetry, and drama. Shakespeare's plays were a staple of the Victorian theatre, and a number of the cartoons refer to the Bard’s frequently-produced works such as Othello [611109], A Midsummer Night's Dream [620405], The Tempest [630124], and Julius Caesar [630815].

Another frequent source of inspiration was classical mythology. The traditional English liberal arts curriculum included works by Greek and Latin authors, such as Homer and Ovid, which students were expected to read in the original languages. The publication of Thomas Bulfinch's The Age of Fable (popularly known as "Bulfinch's Mythology") in 1855 made the tales of Greek and Roman gods and heroes more widely accessible to English readers. Tenniel recalls a number of these ancient myths in his cartoons, including the story of Prometheus [611102], the wanderings of Ulysses [631010], and the lovers' triangle of Venus, Vulcan, and Mars [650325].

A Word About Tenniel’s Style and Technique

Illustrations for a weekly publication such as Punch had to be prepared with considerable speed when they dealt with topical events. Several days prior to each issue date, the Punch staff held editorial meetings, during which ideas would be vetted and articles discussed in draft. These sessions often served to clarify themes and personalities around which Tenniel would develop his compositions. His original pencil sketches might be shown among his colleagues for their reactions. Later, his finished pen and ink drawings would be engraved by a technician. While smaller spot illustrations were interspersed with text, and were printed on both sides of the page, the principal cartoon (or “big cut”) in each weekly issue was printed with the reverse side of the page blank, so as to allow for reproduction of a full range of sharp detail. Tenniel skillfully combines bold, precise outlines (especially in treating his characters’ facial features) with nuanced textures in his settings, the latter carefully built up with cross-hatched lines to create a sense of depth and dimensionality.