LIE-9 . Date/fie 3A #7; a / 0-7639 3 1293 10316 3 (“ll/ll J! Hill!!! I!!! Nllflllflfllfllfll _ 21‘. if This is to certify that the thesis entitled Adventures of an Artist: John Banvard (1815~1891)'and His Mississippi Panorama presented by John Hanners has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for PhD Jegee in Theatre fix? 6; fl. \flétfiw R ajor professor OVERDUE FINES ARE 25¢ PER DAY PER ITEM Return to book drop to remove this checkout from your record. mil AM‘CIS'YVf-R‘ES 0F rk}. ”VIII-7T, JOflh Ehrr' ‘-i‘.‘ i 'i .H'ii, '\‘o':‘- 'rll‘s' “‘03..“ MW sun wimp-t . :90“ch 1M1 a: my 1w. 5 ' -M. ~ g f- f" the m‘ r r - new as N,M&£.Q%Q- % f‘i“. I;'_'--" r " ‘. 1‘3. . . a wimmfiw “fans-sh sin, iee:;.'_ .‘az‘, 1.3, ‘ = * my, THE ADVENTURES or AN ARTIST: JOHN BANVARD (1815-1891) AND HIS MISSISSIPPI PANORAMA BY John Hanners A DISSERTATION Submitted to “3 :un: u.uh Michigan State University v_. in partial ful illment of the requirements ;,"e§nf04“ 1‘:-_ .t for the degree of l‘l,. ‘ ., ~ in ., nu. .rn ;{P,,cnoCT0370P PHILOSOPHY ABSTRACT THE ADVENTURES OF AN ARTIST: JOHN BANVARD (1815-1891) AND HIS MISSISSIPPI PANORAMA B)’ John Hanners John Banvard had faded into obscurity before his death in 1891 in Watertown, South Dakota, and today he is forgotten by all but a few specialists in American art. But from 1847 through 1854, he was the most famous theatrical artist in the western world. The primary source for this chronological study was the Banvard Family Papers, donated in 1948 by Banvard's daughter, Edith Banvard, to the Minnesota Historical Society in St. Paul. Included in these papers is Banvard's unfinished holograph autobiography which provides much information in this study. The Introduction provides a brief history of the panorama before Banvard. Chapter I covers 1815-1841, Banvard’s boyhood in New York and his young manhood on the Western rivers. Chapter II, 1842-1852, examines Banvard's remarkable success with his Mississippi Panorama in England and America. Chapter 111, 1852-1891, concerns Banvard's activities in New York, the failure of his theatrical John Hanners enterprises, and his final years in Watertown. Banvard's theatrical art served the public as entertainment, newsreel, historical record, and travelogue. As a symbol of the Western wilderness, the Mississippi River Panorama inspired Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, John Greenleaf Whittier, and Henry David Thoreau to include it in some of their most important works. The panorama temporarily fulfilled the public's aesthetic need for moving pictures and contributed to the logical impetus of the development of pictorial stage realism and the cinema. Banvard and his work, however, were soon forgotten and by 1900 the era of the moving panorama had ended. Semi... «a; Figure 1. John Banvard (1815-1891), c. 1849. Oil portrait by Anna Mary Howitt (1824-1884). (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to thank the following individuals for their generous assistance in the preparation of this study: Mrs. Ruby J. Shields, Research Assistant, Minnesota Historical Society, St. Paul, Minnesota; Mrs. Margery A. Tauber, Librarian, Watertown Regional Library, Watertown, South Dakota; and Joseph Stuart, Curator, South Dakota Memorial Art Center, Brookings, South Dakota. I would also like to acknowledge my dissertation committee for their guidance and suggestions: Dr. Georg Schuttler, Chairman; and Professors Frank Rutledge, Donald Treat, John Baldwin, and Roger Funk. iv FOREWORD John Banvard had faded into obscurity before his death in 1891 in Watertown, South Dakota, and today he is forgotten by all but a few specialists in American art. But from 1847 through 1854 he was the most famous theatri- cal artist in the western world. His Mississippi River Panorama, advertised as "the three-mile painting," captured the imaginations of millions of Americans and Europeans who never saw the American West. Praised by such luminaries as Queen Victoria, Charles Dickens, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Banvard's art also appealed to the unlettered river boatmen whose life and work were the subject of his Panorama. A few scholars, notably John Francis McDermott and Joseph Earl Arrington, have published articles on Banvard, but this study is the first complete account of his entire career. At seventeen, John Banvard worked as a scenic artist on the Chapman Family showboat. The Chapman's Floating Theatre, the first showboat in American theatre history, provided Banvard with the inspiration to operate his own showboats. In the early 1830's he lived for a time in New Harmony, Indiana, the famous Utopian settlement on V the Wabash River. After achieving international success with his theatrical exhibitions and accumulating great wealth, Banvard retired on Long Island where he built a huge castle, nicknamed "Banvard's Folly" by the local townspeople, and devoted his life to poetry and theatre. In 1867, he constructed and ran Banvard's Museum, located at 1221 Broadway, New York. This building later became Augustin Daly's Theatre, a landmark in American theatre history. By 1882, Banvard lost his fortune through bad investments and financial malfeasance, and he spent his final years writing and painting in the remote frontier community of Watertown, South Dakota. This study will examine the life of John Banvard and the influence of his panoramas on nineteenth century life and letters. The popularity of the panorama contri- buted to the development of stage realism and the cinema and during its day served the public as newsreel, historical record, travelogue, education, and religious instruction. The primary source for this study was the Banvard Family Papers, donated in 1948 by Banvard's daughter, Edith Banvard, to the Minnesota Historical Society in St. Paul. Included in these papers is Banvard's unfinished holograph autobiography which provides much information vi in this study. Other items in the Banvard Family Papers include fragments of Banvard's diary, a crapbook containing newspaper clippings, letters, photographs, sketches, oil paintings, and geneological material. The Introduction provides a brief history of the panorama before Banvard. Chapter I covers 1815-1841, Banvard's boyhood in New York City and his young manhood on the Western rivers. Chapter II, 1842-1852, examines Banvard's remarkable success with his Mississippi River Panorama in America and England. Chapter III, 1852-1891, concerns Banvard's theatrical enterprises in New York and his final years in Watertown. "‘ 'fi"—r——————v————'vw——————_‘ ' . TABLE OF CONTENTS LISTLOF ILLUSTRATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . . 1,. .f‘ CHAPTER 7 I . :5 ,LI. 'THE EARLY YEARS: 1815+1841 . . . . . . . 11:: SII.‘ BANVARD'S PANORAMA OF-THE MISSISSIPPI . RIVER: 1842-1852 0 a c a o o q a 1 n I, ’48 >7." _ III. -succassns AND FAILURES: 1852-1891 . . . 107,; . Z: AETERWORB .:. . ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148:; . ,'. (APPENDIX _ A A, I A. BANVARDfS PANORAMA PAMPHLETS . . . . . . . . ; 1533‘ - - , . '7: B- In: L IOGWHY . I C . O . C C C . . . C C U C ' . 1 64 t 1 :11: 1+: ‘ LL 5 r‘ v «1 Q t \ , 11‘1" l 2- a 0' viii )4‘rx7. iA . "7??" , , ' '- s‘. A: .‘u . L ’ t; ’v ' t V - I: , 1‘ - - ' "E‘f‘~‘.L ” a: ‘ ’ _~ _« ‘ quehas "“'=‘ Figure -§ 01 N I I I 10. 11. 12. 13. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS John Banvard (1815-1891), c. 1849 . "John Banvard, 1834." . "Mississippi River Plantation Scene." Banvard's invention for the moving panorama . . . . . . . . . . . . "Autumn Scene." . . . . . . . . . John Banvard, Illustration "Mississippi River Scene at Night, with Steamboat. " . . . . . . . "John Banvard, c. 1849." "Mr. Banvard describing his Panorama to Queen Victoria. " . . . . John Banvard, c. 1860 . "Glenada." . . . . "The Orison." . John Banvard, 1880 . . . . . . . ix iii 33 53 57 67 79 83 85 91 106 109 117 132 INTRODUCTION Robert Barker (1739-1806) invented the panorama in Edinburgh in 1787. His patent No. 1612 read: An entire new contrivance, which I call a g%_p d'oeil, for the purpose of displaying views ature at large by oil painting, fresco, water colours, crayons, or any other mode of painting or drawing. In 1787, Barker built a "semicircular exhibit" of his paintings that was "not successful."2 In 1792, he con- structed a circular building in London's Leicester Square and arranged a series of paintings entitled "English fleet anchored between Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight." After the success of this exhibition and encouraged by the reception of his circular paintings, Barker added "Naval Battle of June1, 1795," "Baths of Brighthelmstone," and "Environs of Windsor" in 1795.3 Robert Fulton, an American studying in England under Benjamin West, saw Barker's work and was intrigued by the potential of the panorama form. Fulton interrupted his studies and moved to France to paint his own. He received "exclusive rights" to produce panoramas in Paris, but they failed financially. He sold his "exclusive rights" to James Thayer and with the proceeds returned to America where he devoted his energies to building the first steamboat.4 Thayer collaborated with several artists, including Pierre Prevost and Charles Marie Bouton, and opened a "Vue de Paris" in that city in 1800. The: paintings were displayed in two circular halls on the Boulevard Montemarte.5 These early panoramic paintings were based on a simple premise: seated in the center of a circular un- framed painting, a spectator felt part of the environment of the work, that he ”was participating in the astonishing illusion of reality in the depicted scene."6 Guides led viewers through a dark tunnel into a circular central room of the panorama building. Chairs (one-hundred and fifty in Thayer's hall) were placed in the center as equidistant from each painting as possible. The illumination came from above the painting and behind it, so that the viewer saw no ceiling or framing device.7 Parisians L.J.M. Daguerre, the inventor of photo- graphy, and Charles Marie Bouton altered the panoramic form with their invention of the diorama in 1821.8 Rendered on transparent linen, dioramas were "enormous. . . paintings under changing lighting effects."9 Dioramas gained widespread popularity in France and England. Bouton and Daguerre used a round auditorium that turned on a pivot before stationary paintings.10 The building had a depth of 169' and a height of 52'. One painting alone measured 71'6" X 45'6".11 Their exhibition of "The Interior of Trinity Chapel, Canterbury Cathedral" was so realistic that one patron "asked to be conducted down the steps [of the cathedraI] to walk in the building."12 A witness wrote: Few could be persuaded that what they saw was a mere painting on a flat surface. . . This impression was strengthened by perceiving the light and shadows change as if clouds were passing over the sun, the rays of which occasionally shone on the floor. . . The illusion was rendered more per— fect by the excellence of the painting, and by the sensitive condition of the eye in the darkness of the surrounding chamber. Daguerre and Bouton achieved these effects and others by "a combination of translucent and opaque painting, and of transmitted and reflected light by contrivances such as screens and shutters."14 Dioramas were also cut out in various places for highlighting and two or more transparent surfaces on ”separate frames placed a short distance apart" created three-dimensional effects.15 The next step in the evolution of the panorama and diorama was the invention in London in the early 1820's of the moving panorama, defined as the unrolling of the can- vas "from an upright roller and winding it up on another."16 The improvement was significant; now the only restriction on a painting‘s length was the size of the roller that held it. However the canvas had a tendency to sag in the middle as it was being drawn from one roller onto the other and this remained troublesome until Banvard invented an upper track system that eliminated slack. According to German philosopher Dolf Sternberger, the panorama was the most popular art form in the nineteenth century.17 First, as the forerunners of the cinematic news- reel, they offered pictorially transmitted information. In his study of the panorama on the American frontier, Joseph Schick comments: The contribution of the panorama-type dis- play to the life of the community was not without significance. . . Contemporary news events at home and abroad became vivid actualities. In an age devoid of our ready methods of picture reproduction, the panorama igrved as an oasis in the desert of the printed page. The panorama also appealed to the desire for travel. One panorama producer declared, "The love of travel is inherent in mankind. He therefore, who by means of panoramic exhibi- tions makes travellers of those who would otherwise tarry at home is not an ordinary benefactor to his fellow creatures."19 John Banvard recognized the opportunities afforded by the travelogue; after the success of his Mississippi Panorama he painted exotic scenes of the Nile River and the Middle East. Second, panoramas functioned as tools of education. After viewing Banvard's Mississippi Panorama, Charles Dickens wrote, "New worlds open out to them [the spectatorS], beyond their little worlds, and widen their range of reflections, information, sympathy, and interest. The more man knows of man, the better for brotherhood among us all."20 In an age that made no distinction between popular art and serious art, the panorama appealed to serious artists as well as the masses. David, on taking his students to a Prévost and Daguerre exhibition, was over- heard to say, "Really, one has to come here to study Nature!"21 And in 1800 the Institut de France officially sanctioned the panorama as a high art form and encouraged its development.22 The widespread acceptance and fascination with the panorama led Sternberger to refer to the nineteenth century as the "panoramic age."23 A random selection of titles during this period reveals the historical, topical, religious, and geographical nature of panoramic subject matter: "View of Ireland,"24 "Panorama of the Bible,"25 "The Battle of Wagram,"26 "Grand French Dio-Panorama of the Funeral of Napoleon,"27 "Midnight Mass in Rome."28 The earliest panorama in America was view of Jerusalem displayed in New York in 1790.29 On August 21, 1795, a "View of the Cities of London and Westminister," reportedly covering 2,400 square feet, was advertised in the American Minerva magazine and a view of Charleston, South Carolina, 110' x 20', was shown in New York on February 4, 1797.30 John Vanderlyn built a large rotunda in New York in 1818 to house his paintings of Versailles.31 In the early 1820's Pierre Martin Stollenwerck invented a panorama with moving "mechanical" figures in a painting of a commercial seaport in New York.32 The panorama movement in American lagged behind Europe and England it was said because "America had no artists commensurate with the grandeur and extent of her scenery."33 In America landscape painting was of secondary importance to portraits and sentimental domestic scenes. By the late 1830's, however, inspired by the large land- scapes of Thomas Cole (1801-1848) and the Hudson River School, native American artists adopted the panoramic form. Theatrical scene painters, because of their speed, skill at background detail, and mastery of large-scale landscape painting techniques, emerged as the most successful pano- ramists. They also possessed knowledge of theatrical mechanics, an essential part of a successful panorama show. Panorama titles began to reflect an emerging national consciousness and less emphasis on foreign subject matter: "Bunker Hill,"34 "American Fleet Against Tripoli,"35 "36 "A Trip up the Hudson River,"37 "A Trip to Niagara, "Bullard's Panorama of New York City,"38 "Mammoth Cave in Kentucky.”39 The showing of these panoramas developed into a theatrical event; lectures and musical accompani- ment, darkened halls and special lighting effects, and heavy publicity resulted in a wholly new entertainment form. By the late 1840's the stage was set for the most prolific panoramist of them all--John Banvard, poet, dreamer, showman, and theatrical artist. Combining a modest artistic skill with shrewd management, Yankee ingenuity, and hard work, he became world famous, earned millions of dollars, and in the process helped pave the way for realistic spectacle in the American theatre and the development of the motion picture. FOOTNOTES 1William Burt Gamble, The Division pf Scenic Art and Stage Machiner : A List pi References ip the New York Public Library (New York: New York Public Library, 1928), p. 100. 2John Francis McDermott, The Lost Panoramas pf the Mississippi (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1958), p. 2. 31bid. 4Helmut and Alison Gernsheim, L.J.M. Daguerre 1787-1851 (Cleveland: World Publishing Company, 1956), p. . 5Ibid. 6Ibid. 7McDermott, p. 5. 8Gernsheims, p. 13. 91bid. 10Gernsheims, p. 18. 11Gernsheims, pp. 14-15. 12Gernsheims, p. 14. 13Ibid. 14Gernsheims, p. 18. 15McDermott, p. 6. W. Williams, Transparenc Paintin iiififiji on Linen: For Decorative Purposes, Panoramic an Dioramic Effects, Ornamental Blinds, Etc., with Instruction ppp the preparation pi the linen, the combination and transfer 9_ ornamental designs, combined surfaces, etc. (Londafi: Winson and Newton, 1855) describes the panorama and diorama painting techniques. 16McDermott, p. 17. 17Dolf Sternberger, Panorama pf Eh; Nineteenth Century (New York: Urizen Books, 1977), pp. 185-189. Richard Carl Wickman, "An Evaluation of the Employment of Panoramic Scenery in the Nineteenth Century Theatre," (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Ohio State University, 1961) also supports this view. 18Joseph S. Schick, The Early Theatre ip Eastern Iowa (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1939), p. 136. 19John Rowson Smith, quoted in McDermott, p. 8. 20[Charles Dickens], "Some Account of an Extraordinary Traveller," Household Words, I (Saturday, April 20, 1850), 77. 21Gernsheims, p. 6. 221219. 23Sternberger, p. 185. 24Schick, p. 136. ZSSchick, p. 139. 26Gernsheims, p. 34. 27Gernsheims, p. 6. 28Gernsheims, p. 34. 29McDermott, p. 8. 30Kenneth Lindsay, The Works pf John Vanderlyn: From Tamman pp Eh; Ca itol (Binghampton, New York:7 State UniveTSIty of New Yor at Binghampton, 1970 ), p. 31Theodore Bolton, "Vanderlyn and the American Panoramania," Art News, (November, 1956), 43. 32Joseph Earl Arrington, "John Banvard's Moving Panorama of the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio Rivers," The Filson History Club Quarterly, XXXII (July, 1958), 208. 33"John Banvard's Great Picture," Littell's Living Age, XV (December, 1847), 511. i 10 34Schick, p. 141. 35McDermott, p. 9. 36Arrington, p. 208. 37lhii° 385chick, p. 139. 391bid. CHAPTER I THE EARLY YEARS: 1815-1841 John Banvard claimed to be descended from the renowned de Bonivard family of the Republic of Geneva. In 1519, three de Bonivard brothers were imprisoned for their revolutionary activities in the notorious Chateau de Chillon. Two brothers soon died, but the oldest, Francois, survived, and, as the story goes, wore traces in the stone floor of his dungeon with his ceaseless pacing. According to Banvard, his worn path, clearly visible, was "still shown to travelers visiting the castle."1 De Bonivard's bravery and zeal for freedom inspired Lord Byron's 1816 poem "The Prisoner of Chillon." A neighbor recalled that Banvard, well into his seventies, entertained visitors with the de Bonivard story by bounding from his chair and "dramatically" reciting Byron's lines:2 Chillon! Thy sad prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar--for 'twas trod Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod By Bonnivard [Sic]!--May none these marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God.3 Unfortunately, like many of Banvard's romantic claims, the pedigree was false. There was an historical de Bonivard 11 12 family, but John came from humbler stock; the Banvards originated from the Montpelier region in the southern coastal area of France.4 His grandfather, Pierre Banvard, a Moravian, emigrated to America c. 1760 and settled in 'New England. Daniel Banvard, John's father, was born in 1767. He became an architect, married Elizabeth Mead, a member of a prominent New England family, and settled in New York City where he established a construction firm in 1791.5 His business prospered and, allied with the Lorrillard Brothers, tobacconists and fellow Moravians, he drew up plans for and built the first continous row of buildings from street to street in New York City.6 Daniel built a simple frame house for his family at the corner of Broadway and Pearl Streets, near the site of what was later the Tombs prison complex, and although wide pastures were nearby, the house lacked privacy. He wanted to "move a little way out of town instead of living directly in the city."7 He sold his house and lot for one thousand dollars, a "good speculation" he thought, and in- vested sixty pounds sterling for another lot "well up on Broadway" at the corner of Canal Street, where he built a spacious two-story house. There on November 15, 1815, John Banvard, the third son and last of eleven children, was born.8 13 Young John grew up in a staunchly Moravian house- hold. Daniel and Elizabeth actively participated in church affairs and prayers, Bible study, and hymn singing were important in John's upbringing. This was a strict home, but a loving one.9 Banvard was precocious and his father encouraged him to paint, draw, and design simple buildings.10 Literature, particularly poetry, was read aloud by family members and John could recite from memory long verses while still in his highchair. At nine he composed a lengthy poem commemorating Lafayette's visit to New York in 1824.11 Banvard's interest in poetry never waned; he wrote an esti- mated 1,700 poems in his lifetime.12 His first teacher was Joseph Hoxie, later a prominent New York politician and City Judge, and Banvard and his classmates enjoyed frequent spring picnics, trips to watch Fulton's steamboat on the Hudson River, and rature outings.13 Banvard's most unpleasant experience occurred when his best friend and next door neighbor, a boy named DeWitt, was killed by a team of runaway horses. Afterwards the teacher refused to let any student occupy the deceased boy's desk; "It remained vacant thereafter," Banvard later wrote, "and as it was near mine I was reminded daily of my play- fellow's death. . . I never forgot."14 At the age of ten, Banvard attended a Moravian school taught by Benjamin Mortimer, Jr., a family friend and son of the Banvard family pastor. During the first 14 term the eccentric Mortimer led his pupils to Stuyvesant Fields to witness the hanging of a murderer named John Johnson. Banvard thought it was "a horrible idea, to take a lot of children to see such an exhibition."15 In addition to his drawing and painting, Banvard built a small laboratory where he conducted simple scien- tific experiments. At the age of nine or ten he co-ordinated a neighborhood entertainment with his next door friends the Woodworth brothers, sons of Samuel Woodworth, minor American poet famous for his "The Old Oaken Bucket."16 John and the Woodworths built their own printing press and distributed handbills. BANVARD'S ENTERTAINMENTS (To be seen at No. 68 Center Street, between White and Walker.) Consisting of lst. Solar Microscope, 2nd. Camera Obscura, 3rd. Punch and Judy 4th. Sea Scene 5th. Magic Lantern Admittance (to see the whole) six cents The following are the days of Performance viz. Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Performance to commence at half-past 3P.M. John Banvard, Proprietor F. Woodworth, printer, 521 Pearl Streetl’ This childhood exercise with its optical illusions contained Banvard's first diorama. Entitled "Sea Scene," it featured moving "boats, fish, and a naval engagement."18 15 Banvard usually spent his summer vacations with his maternal cousins in New England. He loved listening to his maternal grandfather, Jesse Mead, tell stories of the Revolutionary War; old Jesse had been an original Minute Man and had fought at the Battle of Lexington.19 At summer's end, 1831, Banvard returned home "to find it in great tribulation and sorrow."20 His father had suffered a severe stroke and was paralyzed. In the meantime, his business partner had liquidated all the construction firm's assets, pocketed the proceeds, and left New York, never to be seen again. Daniel, stunned by the sudden turn of events, suffered a second stroke and died August 2, 1831. Young Banvard arrived home to attend the funeral and dis- covered that all the family property, including the house- hold furnishings, was impounded. Two deputy sheriffs attended the funeral, held in the Banvard home, to "see that none of the mourners bore off anything with them."21 John's mother was prostrate with grief and could not attend the burial. For a time the family feared that she might die as well.22 The bill for Daniel Banvard's funeral listed twelve dollars for a coffin, one dollar for a shroud, and two dollars and fifty-two cents for miscellaneous expenses.23 The death of his father and the subsequent family humiliation followed Banvard all his life and he devoted a good portion of his time in an effort to gain respectability and 16 accumulating wealth. Incidentally, that funeral bill was among Banvard's few possessions when he himself died in 1891.24 Now fifteen and the eldest son at home, Banvard was responsible for his mother and two older sisters Catherine and Margaret. He searched the newspapers daily for job advertisements, but without success. After three weeks he gave up. An older brother, Peter, had settled in Louisville, Kentucky, and John decided to follow him there. He borrowed travel fare, and after a tearful farewell to his mother, Banvard set out for the West in September 1831.25 Louisville, Kentucky, was a sprawling, thriving frontier town in 1831. A special census that year disclosed a population of 10,366,26 a 260% increase over a decade before.27 Louisville was an ideal place for a young man making his way in the world and the city was full of men who arrived in the same impoverished condition as Banvard. John found his brother operating a dry goods store, but for some reason Peter did not hire him. However, the i youngster found employment as an apothecary's assistant in a drug store. The sights, sounds, and smells of the river city fascinated the fifteen year old boy. He watched a slave auction where a slave refused to accompany his new master and was consequently dragged and whipped through the streets of Louisville crying, "You may kill me, but I won't go!" He looked on in amazement as his next door 4—. 17 neighbor, a city constable, regularly whipped his slave with a heavy leather lash in the front yard. "The slave's shrieks," wrote Banvard, "were heartrendering [gig] to hear."28 In the spring of 1832, Louisville was struck by the worst flood in Ohio River history. Rains fell every day from February 10 through Febraury 21, the river rose far above flood stage, and there was a ”total cessation" of business.29 Banvard described the destruction. Many buildings were carried away. I saw a large three storey mill that stood on the Indiana side of the Falls carried away. The river was filled with floating farm waggonsgs ic|, hay stacks, house furniture, etc. which cam oating down and were swept over the falls. As I stood on the levee one day an immense timber raft came sweeping down close to shore, as it past sic; the landing it struck the bow of the steamer Cav111eg!$1ijWith a terrible crash [and] tore an immense op nin g in her side when she immediately filled and sank. The water came up over the levee into the side streets and many buildings were carried away--my brother procured a cable and tied it around his store, which was a wooden structure, and thus preserved it from being carried off. With other buildings it was raised from its foundation and floated on the surface of the flood. All the cordage that could be had in the city was employed in similar use and the price in consequence rose enormously. The steam boats ran up the side streets to discharge their freight, and when the water began to recede it went down so fast that the steamer Reindeer was left aground in Fourth Street.30 After the flood waters receded, Banvard's employer gave him the task of unlaoding freight south of Louisville below the Ohio Falls. Despite the opening of the Portland Canal 8 18 in 1830, which enabled steamboats ascending the Ohio River to pass around the treacherous Falls, many steam- boat operators were unwilling to pay the stiff toll (sixty cents a ton) necessary for passage. The annual freight toll could equal half the amount required to build a new boat.31 Consequently, merchants sent their young clerks to Shippingsport, Kentucky, the rearest south port to the Falls, to unload merchandise. Banvard often stayed over— night if the steamer was slow in unloading its freight and it was here at Shippingsport that his fascination with rivers and river life began. He met the rough riverboat men whose romantic life at once appealed to him. Robert Baird, an early traveler in the West, commented, "There is not on earth a class of men of a more peculiar and marked character, than the western boatmen."32 Historian R. Carlyle Buley remarked on the lure of the river for these men. The life was attractive because of [its] color and danger, in freedom, its periods of ease, and the opportunities offered to see the world. From the Allegheny to the farthest reaches of the Arkansas, from New Orleans to the Yellowstone, the boatmen roamed in labor and adventure, subject only to the law of their kind. It [river work] was rough and hard, and it produced a class of rough and hard men. Whether they were the toughest class in the West can- not be proved, but in their own opinion there was no doubt about it, and this view is often supported by others.33 19 Banvard and several other young clerks were once treated to a free supper aboard a steamer on her maiden trip. The owner, typical of the "arrogant and independent" captains of the period,34 insisted that each clerk toast the new steamer with a glass of wine. A crew member locked the cabin door and the clerks were ordered to continue drinking until, one by one, they passed out. Banvard, who pretended to be "exceedingly hilarious," poured his drinks into a spittoon hidden beneath a berth, and after the group was soundly asleep, made good his escape.35 Banvard lost his job at the drug store during the latter part of 1832 when he entertained his fellow clerks by drawing sketches of the owner on the drug store walls. His employer told him "he though he could make better likenesses than he could pills," and fired him.36 One version of this dismissal states that Banvard found the drug business "distateful" and his employer, recognizing the boy's talent as an artist, advised him to "devote his future to that profession."37 Now seventeen years old, Banvard looked for work as an itinerant artist, an occupation that he pursued during the next fourteen years. The itinerant artist was a fix- ture on the American frontier, and most, like Banvard, were self-taught.38 They worked in one or more modes, 20 including miniatures, clay modeling, fractur (illuminated handwriting), sign painting, silhouettes, frescoes, and interior decoration of public halls.39 Even the best American artists from 1750 to l840--Benjamin West (1738- 1820), John Singleton Copley (1738-1815), Gilbert Stuart (1755-1828), Charles Wilson Peale (l741-l827)--moved from city to city in search of work. These artists were forced to do their work quickly and accurately, for only by having a high turnover of jobs could they make a living.40 With the proceeds from a job "ornamenting and decorating" a city park, Banvard rented a studio for painting portraits.41 During this time he acquired some of the skills that led to the success of his later panoramas-- a quick brush stroke, an ability to paint in oil from hurried sketches, and a careful study of backgrounds. When the studio enterprise failed through a lack of customers, Banvard looked for work as a scenic artist around the theatres of Louisville, but his youth and in- experience made that fruitless.42 Then, in the spring of 1833, he finally found theatrical work--he was engaged as an artist by the famous Chapman family. William Chapman and his family emmgrated from England to New York in 1827. They achieved modest acting success in New York City, but "no single theatre was willing to give the whole family employment."43 So William, his two fl- 21 sons, Samuel and William, Jr., and their wives and children, and his daughter Caroline came to the West in 1831.44 After several frustrating experiences performing in inadequate halls and hotels, William Sr. decided to launch "the first river craft built with the intent to perform aboard it."45 Chapman fitted up a barge, christened it the Floating Theatre, and with nine Chapman family members and two unidentified crewmen, pushed off from Pittsburgh down the Ohio River.46 Chapman's enterprise was a logical solution to the problems inherent in bringing theatre to the sparsely populated regions of the West: he merely adapted an "Eastern institution (the theatre) to the Western environ— ment (dependence on the rivers)."47 The family developed a routine. Beginning their annual tour at Pittsburgh, they drifted down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, often starting the day at 3:00 A.M. to avoid heavy morning head- winds. They stopped at dozens of remote landings for one night stands during their 1,800 mile journey. When they drifted into New Orleans, they dismantled the boat, sold the lumber, and with their accumulated capital, made their way overland to Pittsburgh. In later years, when the busi- ness became more profitable, they sailed by steamer to New York.48 I‘- 22 No contemporary sketches of the Floating Theatre survive, but some descriptions do. Noah Ludlow wrote: My first knowledge of the family [the Chapmans], if my recollection be correct, was about the year 1831 or 1832, when I beheld a large flat-boat, with a rude kind of house built upon it, having a ridge- roof, above which projected a staff with a flag attached, Egon which was plainly visible the word Theatre!‘ Showboat historian Philip Graham, without documentation, says the boat was "a little more than one hundred feet long and sixteen feet wide" with the'enclosed portion of the boat measuring one hundred feet long and fourteen feet wide."50 According to Graham, it had a narrow, shallow stage at the stern, a pit in the middle, and a rear gallery for blacks.51 Banvard, however, describes a more sophisti- cated vessel; box seats were built along the sides of the boat extending over the water. Wooden guards were built behind these boxes to prevent water from splashing over the spectators.52 The Chapmans, noted for their acting, emphasized regular drama more than any other showboat in American history. The pioneering efforts of this theatrical family "set the pattern for the American showboat," and "wherever they played, danced, and sang, they spread the charm and geniality of the showboat."53 However genial the atmosphere on board during performance, Banvard soon discovered that the Chapmans were less than genial to their hired help. iv .- 23 Banvard was employed as a scenic artist by the Chapmans during the 1833 season, but for some undisclosed reason they refused to pay him. He decided to stay on board until such time as "the management would accumulate enough funds so as to liquidate" his claim. He took an area back of the left side of the stage proscenium and boarded off allace in which to stand and sit. He then constructed a berth which extended underneath the stage left box seats directly over the water. As the summer passed and he still had not been paid, however, Banvard discovered his rigged cabin was uncomfortable. Theguards behind the box seats had been assembled while green and during the fall they cracked from warping and seasoning. High waves or heavy swells from passing steamers doused Banvard day and night. He began to wonder is could make it to New Orleans, but his stubborness matched the Chapmans'.54 One fall morning he awakened to discover that an early frost had frozen his bedding. When he sat up his "blankets and spread broke in two in the middle and stood straight up like a trap door."55 In a typical display of pluckiness he solved his problem. The roof was now discovered to leak badly all over. At one of the towns where tar could be pro- cured, the management bought enough to put on that portion of the roof or deck directly over where the 24 rooms of the family were situated. Just as the man had got the tar heated and all ready to put on, dinner was announced and he left to consume his por- tion of that meal. While he was absent, I took the material to the roof over my room where I worked like a good fellow and by the time dinner was over I had the area over my apartment thoroughly tarred so I did not suffer from leakage as long as I remained aboard. I. . . consumed about half the tar the manager bought and rendered it necessary for him to purchase more to make his own roof tight. I made my roof tight, and myself more comfortable by the operation, although I had to eat a cold dinner. He did not like what I had done, but I did not care. By the time the Chapman showboat reached New Orleans, Banvard had persuaded other performers and crew members to join him in starting a showboat of their own. The Chapmans' two- man orchestra, Wilbur, a fiddler, and Woodward, a clarinetist, joined Banvard. Other troupe members were Scudder, an older man and Banvard's closest friend, and Mortimer, a comic singer. Scudder had once performed as the "Great American Fire King,” and his speciality was eating live coals and licking red hot iron.57 Banvard's relationship with Scudder, whose first name is unknown, is intriguing. A J. Scudder ran a museum that featured a panorama in Albany, New York, in 1808,58 and John Scudder59 and an F. Scudder60 both ran theatres in New York that displayed panoramas in the early 1820's. John Scudder died in 1825,61 but nothing more is heard of F. Scudder. Could F. Scudder and Banvard's friend be the same person? If so, it is important because Banvard would '1, 25 have had close personal contact with a man who had not only displayed panoramas, but had publicized them and knew the mechanics of a panorama performance. The five men made their way overland from New Orleans to New Harmony, Indiana, and in July 1834 built "an exhibition boat and theatre."62 New Harmony was the site of two major nineteenth century social experiments. The first, founded by fifty-six year old George Rapp on 25,000 acres on the Wabash River in the spring of 1815,63 established a disciplined, celibate, thriving community under the auspices of a religious and economic dictatorship. The first buildings erected were separate dormitories for men and women and soon: They established branch stores at Vincennes and Shawneetown. Since their own wants were simple and they worked under rigid discipline, they got ahead; they accepted only specie and notes of the Bank of the United States. In time a fine. church, a house for Rapp, a tavern, spacious com— munity houses and other improvements were added.64 The ”other improvements" included a theatre and a concert music hall. - In 1825, Rapp, after a vision, sold the New Harmony lands and buildings to the British industrialist and great social reformer Robert 0wen(l771-1858). Owen wanted a practical socialist community to refute his critics' claims A 26 that such an enterprise was impossible because of the nature of human greed. Twice Owen addressed the Congress of the United States in the presence of the President and the Supreme Court Justices, telling of his plans for the "Utopia on the Wabash." He would bring scientists, artists, and skilled laborers together in a perfect commnunal society.65 Soon after the Rappites departed and the Owenites arrived, trouble developed. Production quotas and job responsibilities were vague and the first year ended in disaster. When production failed, meetings were held, resolutions passed. Much planning resulted, little work; it was a system under which the dissatisfied farmer might become a printer, bookkeeper, or teacher, the dissatisfied writer a farmer. It did not work. By late 1827, much of New Harmony returned to private ownership. Robert's sons David and William remained. David operated a natural science laboratory and lectured once a week on natural philosophy. Banvard "attended every one of these" and gained "considerable knowledge” during his stay in New Harmony.67 William founded the Thespian Society, later called the New Harmony Dramatic Company, and a refurbished Rappite dormitory served as a theatre. For over one hundred years New Harmony enjoyed continous seasons of drama.68 27 Banvard's fledgling company looked for a river craft suitable as a showboat. In the meantime each com- pany member was also given a specific task. Banvard out- fitted the scenery. He laid out his canvases in the dancing hall of the New Harmony Hotel, where the company boarded for one dollar and fifty cents a week each. When his painting supplies dwindled, Banvard went to Louisville for more. After a stage ride through southern Indiana in which he was "jolted half to death," he found the Ohio River low and impassable by boat. It took him several days to reach Louisville.69 After buying his paints, brushes, and canvas, Banvard called on G. Blanchard, former owner of Blanchard's Amphitheatre in New York City. The Amphitheatre had opened January 18, 1830, and featured equestrian acts staged by Blanchard and his family.70 Blanchard gradually switched from circus entertainments to legitimate plays, but by March 1831 the theatre folded.71 Blanchard now ran a clothing store in Louisville. There Banvard purchased the remainder of the Amphitheatre's costumes for his showboat and headed back to New Harmony.72 Upon Banvard's return the company bought a forty- foot flatboat for forty dollars. The craft had been constructed as an apothecary's boat and consequently was 28 tight in the hull to prevent water seepage from destroying medicines.73 Its medium-size length suggest that it was probably a "Dead Man's Boat," so called because crew watchmen on top of the small cabin were often drowned after being swept off by overhanging tree limbs and bridges.74 Banvard planned to set up a floating grocery store and use the various theatrical skills of the crew members to lure customers at frontier settlements along the river- banks. The floating grocery boat, flying a bright red flag (yellow if it carried dry goods), was a common sight on the navigable Western rivers. Sometimes five or six such boats would pass even the remotest places each day.75 An early traveler, Robert Sutcliffe, described their operation. As they sail along the river on coming to a plantation they blow a horn or conch shell, to give notice of their arrival; when the planters with their wives and daughters repair to these floating shops and select such things as they are in want of; and make payment in the produce of their plantations, such as grain, flour, cotton, tobacco, dried venison, the skins of wild animals. The shopkeeper, having disposed of his goods in this way, returns home with the produce he has collected and again renews his stock and proceeds on another voyage. Banvard's crew bought groceries, cigars, and tobacco to sell along the river. Banvard drew up a contract in which all agreed to descend the Wabash, Ohio, and Mississippi Rivers to New Orleans. Each member of the company, 29 including a new man, Mr. Lowe, who joined the troupe because of the "great prospective profits held up to his view,"77 swore he would ”do the best he could in his capacity and all money earned whatsoever was to go in a general fund and be divided once a week."78 Banvard's stay in New Harmony was not all work. He enjoyed the town picnics, dances, and "merrymaking"79 and eventually became "acquainted with nearly all the people in the town."80 One of his acquaintances was a young girl named Rosilia, a member of the New Harmony Dramatic Company who "possessed considerable stage talent."81 One morning Banvard found a sign attached to the New Harmony Hotel entrance which attributed "villainous and obscene epithets" to him. Upon learning the identity of the author, a young lawyer named Barclay who earlier was Rosilia's steady escort, Banvard named his attacker in a "humorous and sarcastic rejoinder" which he tacked below the original sign. The rejoinder declared that Barclay had libeled Banvard and had "reflected on the character of certain estimable young ladies of New Harmony, and if he [Barclay] was not careful he might get a horse- "82 The next morning Barclay was waiting for whipping. Banvard as he descended the hotel steps. A fight broke out and Banvard, after being pinned helpless between a sign post and a cattle post, managed to win. Barclay, 30 "amidst the derisive shouts of the spectators," fled into the hotel. Two hours later the defeated lawyer left for Mt. Carmel by stagecoach. Banvard owed his success to "scientific boxing lessons" given him by Scudder.83 The ice on the Wabash broke up in early December 1834, and the company was anxious to begin the long journey to New Orleans. With their remaining capital, the crew members bought rough unplaned boards for portable bleacher seating. Banvard built a small stage and con- structed a seven-foot high curtain that rose and fell.84 He also planned some ”interesting physical experiments."85 These "physical experiments" may have been simple magic tricks, or lights and flash pots to illuminate some of his paintings. In Banvard's later panorama pamphlets he mentioned that he "got up" some dioramic paintings during his "first" voyage down the rivers.86 This was actually his second trip, but his pamphlets omitted any mention of the Chapmans. Only sixty years later did he mention them in his unpublished autobiography. At two P.M., December 18, 1834, Banvard's troupe pushed off from New Harmony for New Orleans. They floated eight miles the first day. As they prepared to retire for the night, they discovered that no one had brought any bedding. In communal fashion they made one huge bed from 31 sailor's coats and the few available blankets. They slept that way the entire winter, perhaps not uncomfortably. They were accustomed to hard beds; the Chapman family made its hired hands sleep only on straw.87 Banvard's first retail-theatrical enterprise succeeded. The company pulled into river settlements, sang songs ad- vertising their wares, entertained customers with farces directed by the comic singer Mortimer, sold their groceries, and pushed off for the next town. The addition of theatrical fare was a novelty that contributed to their 88 Several months later the company arrived in success. New Orleans and, following the customary river practice, sold the boat.89 In the summer of 1835, Banvard once more assembled a group at New Harmony, but only Lowe returned from the crew of 1834. New members included a Mr. Kemble and a Mr. Harns. This voyage was to be different. Banvard would not sell groceries, but would feature dramatic per— formances and exhibitions of his scenic paintings. No longer would farces be the sole dramatic fare; he ambitiously planned to produce Shakespeare.90 The new showboat was an an improvement; it was "all enclosed and decked over." Banvard painted several scenes for the performances, the most interesting a drop curtain with an architectural Florentine view and an open collonade i. 4“":in .111 at hailstorm) 33 0333-13-10:; 511113;? 300230" aid: . .m . n a 3“ (. 1391902 Esoirogéein .1 l. _ _ - 3".“ B’fiV‘rl‘ is... . «9.1111 4" "er N [‘4’ Jmnwl’a [i ./ qgwf— ms,- am» 32 Figure 2. "John Banvard, 1834." John P. Frankenstein, Louisville. Frankenstein emigrated from Germany to Cincinnati in 1831. He modeled in clay and "painted portraits at an early age." The religious paintings of this "eccentric" artist were popular in the West. Buley, II, 576. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 33 John Banvfl’d- :/9,,,[:,( «(Z {Bf ~’.-,.’(L’IIO%4/0J/:/,.’ 3' (flu/(VIN. /"!b Figure 2. 34 receding in perspective. It was "much admired" by audiences.91 At this time it is evident that Banvard painted scenes of which he had no personal direct geo- graphical knowledge, a contrasting practice to his later technique of sketching and painting from his own observation. The new enterprise was doomed from the beginning. New Harmony was struck with an epidemic of ague and the entire company fell ill. The delay of several months caused by the illinesses exhausted the company capital, making it impossible to finish outfitting the boat. The troupe performed to earn funds for provisions, but as the town was under quarantine, audiences were understandably small. Out of food, penniless, and sick, they decided to push off anyway, gambling that the first night's profits down river would help replenish their supplies.92 Incredibly, the first night out the men discovered that, just as in the previous year, they had forgotten bedding! Banvard, because his illness was the most severe, was given one of tWo mattresses; the other crew members slept on hard benches in the auditorium. The next day the boat ran aground six times. Each time the crew, minus Banvard, waded into the Wabash and using oars and tree limbs, freed the showboat.93 The following morning a head wind stronger than the river current prevented the boat from drifting. To pass the time the company practiced songs, one of which, 35 "Home, Sweet Home," Banvard found "not at all edifying." He was so ill he could not rise from his mattress.94 On the fourth day the wind died and the boat immediately grounded on a sandbar. The situation was desperate. Banvard had calculated it would take three days to get down the Wabash to the Ohio and more populous settlements; consequently, the troupe had only stocked provisions for three days. By the fifth day they had traveled only a third of the distance necessary to reach the mouth of the Wabash. The crew sighted an old trapper wandering along the bank, and after a promiSe of five dol- lars cash, he guided the boat through the snags and rapids that lay ahead. Two days later they reached the Ohio.95 Reduced to eating paw paws, the group reached Shawneetown, Illinois, in pitiful shape. When the boat could not reach the landing because of large "sawyers," trees lying submerged in the river, townspeople sent out a canoe. As the crew prepared to go ashore, Banvard, too ill to move, gave Harns his last twenty-five cents for pills and quinine. At eleven that night Harns returned roaring drunk and minus the medicine. Harns had decided that Banvard did not need the medicine because he was not sick but had feigned illness and shirked his duty to help clear the boat from sandbars. "Here you had the use of 36 that mattress ever since we left Harmony," Harns grumbled, "now I am going to have a night's rest; I am tired of sleep- ing on hard benches." Thereupon he jerked the mattress from under Banvard and passed out. The fever-ridden Banvard spent the night on the wet bottom of the showboat.96 The entire company, weak from their exertions on the Wabash, fell ill again. During a performance in Golconda, Illinois, "three characters [were] shaking with agues at one time in a scene."97 [Kemble] had taken some medicine just before the curtain rose and while enacting in the scene became sick at the stomach and was forced to leave the stage temporarily and the remaining characters had to talk against time and a out the scene while Kemble was vomiting over the si e guard. But it was play or starve as there were no provisions on the boat and the night's receipts was [sic] depended on to procure supper. No written agreement existed for this enterprise and tempers were short. As Banvard's condition improved, the troupe's worsened. Banvard now did most of the work--washing clothes, seeking fresh drinking water, and finding milk among the farms that dotted the shoreline. He also spent several sleepless nights pumping water out of the now leaky boat; its trials on the Wabash had damaged its hull.99 At Paducah, Kentucky, Banvard sold his share of the boat to Lowe for ninety dollars, but he never received the money nor saw Lowe again.100 While pondering his future in that town, he met John Betts, a local theatre manager. The Betts family, like the Chapmans, consisted of English 37 immigrant actors. The members included Mrs. Betts (formerly Mrs. Mitchell), her two sisters Mrs. Hallam and Rachael Stannard, and Betts' stepson, Thomas Mitchell. The sisters had come to Kentucky in a roundabout way. In 1826, John Hallam, an actor related to the famous theatrical family of the eighteenth century, asked Joseph Cowell, his Philadelphia manager, for a leave of absence to travel to England and find a wife. Cowell gave his permission on the condition that if he found any talented actors or actresses who were willing to work for three guineas a week, he was to bring them back. Hallam returned with the new Mrs. Hallam. The new talent consisted of Mrs. Hallam's two sisters, Miss Stannard and Mrs. Mitchell and her husband Mr. Mitchell. Later Cowell noted dryly, "The rest of the family wouldn't come, I suppose."101 Mrs. Betts "had a very pretty face and a broad Lincolnshire accent." She reminded Cowell of character actress Jean Margaret Davenport and he offered her double salary if she played old women.102 She made her New York debut in The Wandering_Boys at the Lafayette Theatre on January 6, 1829.103 Rachael Stannard (b. 1800) had just returned from St. Louis where in July 1835,5he worked for Noah Ludlow at the Salt House Theatre; she played Ophelia to Charles K. Mason's Hamlet.104 38 John Betts, a respected citizen of Paducah, served on its board of health, an important position in a region that suffered from frequent epidemics.105 Betts had met Mrs. Mitchell, by then a widow, in New York where he married her.106 Betts was impressed by Banvard's canveses and hired him as a scenic artist. John lived in the Betts' house while the family nursed him back to health. His strength was insufficient for rigging and painting large canvases, so an old actor named King, whom Banvard had known in Louisville, assisted him.107 Bamvard considered the Betts family troupe extremely talented. Little Thomas Mitchell played the children's parts, King the old men's roles, and several amateur actors from Paducah rounded out the troupe.108 It is not known how long Banvard stayed with the Betts and his whereabouts between 1835 and 1840 cannot be determined accurately. The accounts of Banvard's life in various newspapers, journals, and pamphlets are exag- gerated and inaccurate. Banvard claimed to be a scenic artist in Natchez, New Orleans, Cincinnati, and Louisville. What is certain is that Banvard spent these years sketching and using the experiences with the Chapmans, the New Harmony expeditions, and the Betts to work on his artistic technique. 39 The next record of Banvard is an exhibition in St. Louis in 1841. Miss Hayden (first name unknown), the "far-famed American Sybil,"109 opened a magic show at the St. Louis Museum on March 17, 1841. She was "the only Lady in the world who has ever attempted those dif- ficult experiments."110 Her program also included a dis- play of "GRAND MOVING PANORAMAS" of the cities of Jerusalem and Venice, "covering an extent of canvas exceed- ing 100 square feet, painted by the celebrated artist Banvara sic ."111 The Missouri Republican noted: The Panoramas of Venice and Jerusalem, from the pencil of the distinguished artist J. Bonvard sic], Esq., are replete with interest and instruction; an all who admire fine paintings, and have a taste for thi Fine Arts, we would advise to go and view them. 2 Any early biography states that Banvard lost this painting by the "sinking of a steamer, upon which it was being transported to the city of Nashville."113 Another version said that he sold it for a "good price."114 The truth probably lies somewhere in betweeen. Miss Hayden exhibited the Venice panorama in Nashville during November 1847, claiming she repaired it after it was "materially injured in the sinking of the Monedo, the boat on which she was a passenger to the city."115 The Monedo, a SS-ton paddle- wheeler, collided with the Western on the Cumberland River 40 and sank in 1847.116 Banvard either sold the painting to Miss Hayden before the collision, or she told him it was lost and continued exhibiting without his knowledge. By April 1841, Banvard had accumulated enough capital to buy an interest in the St. Louis Museum as co-owner with W.S. McPherson. On April 19, he advertised the "terribly terrific spectacle" of the "INFERNAL REGIONS, nearly 100 feet in length," and a "GRAND PANORAMA OF ST. LOUIS."117 Then, Banvard later claimed, the Museum went bankrupt, and he was once again penniless.118 Subsequently, Banvard sold a twelve dollar revolver for twenty-five dollars and with the profit purchased a boat which he in turn sold for fifty dollars. Using this buy and sell method and returning to his old practice of selling groceries down the river, he managed to accumulate $3,000.119 By spring 1842, Banvard was ready for the project that would make him a millionaire and bring him inter- national acclaim within six years. He had progressed from simple showboat scenery to large panoramas, and the success of his St. Louis painting gave him the idea of painting the whole Mississippi River. By the time he finished the latter project he had produced the longest painting in the history of the world. Even today his feat is a marvel. 41 FOOTNOTES 1[John Banvard], Banvard, or, the Adventures of an Artist! A Biographical Sketch (London: Reed and Pardon, [1852]), p. 3. For a discussion of this and other pam- phlets relating to Banvard, see the Appendix. 2Doane Robinson, "John Banvard," (typewritten manu- script,[l94l{]), South Dakota Memorial Art Center, Brookings, South Dakota, p. 23. 3George Gordon, Lord Byron, The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, ed. by Ernest Hartley Coleridge (London: John Murray, 1905), p. 379. 4Edith Banvard, "Traditions of the Family," (type- written, n.d.), Banvard Family Papers, B/.A219, Minnesota Historical Society, St. Paul, Minnesota. Hereafter, Banvard Family Papers. See also, Letter, Edith Banvard to Doane Robinson, May 8, 1941, South Dakota Memorial Art Center. SGeneology Folder, Banvard FAmily Papers. 6John Banvard, "Autobiography," (holograph manuscript #6302), Minnesota Historical Society. Hereafter, Banvard M88 #6302. 7Bertha L. Heilbron, "John Banvard's New York," Antigues, LVI (August, 1949), 108. 81219: 9Banvard M88 #6302. 101219- 11Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Vertical File, Watertown Regional Library, Watertown, South Dakota. Hereafter, Banvard File, Watertown. lzlbid. 13Banvard M88 #6302. 14Ibid. 15Ibid. 42 16Banvard MSS #6302. 17Handbill, Banvard Family Papers. 18[John Banvard], Description 9f Banvard's Panorama 9f the Mississippi River, Painted Qn_Three Miles 9f_Canvas, Exhibiting 5 View 9f Country 1200 Miles in Length, Extending from the Mouth of the Missouri River £2.£E§ City of New Orleans, Being E2 far the Largest Picture Ever ExecutEd §y_Man (Boston: John Putnam, 1847), p. 3. Hereafter, Description, Putnam Edition. 19 Banvard MSS #6302. 20Ibid. 21Ibid. 22Ibid. 23Bill for Funeral Expenses, Banvard Family Papers. 24Ibid. 25Banvard M88 #6302. His mother and sisters moved to Boston to live with John's older brother, the Reverend Joseph Banvard, Pastor of the Harvard Street Baptist Church. 26William Carnes Kendrick, "Reminiscences of Old Louisville," (typewritten, 1937), Michigan State Library, Department of Education, Lansing, Michigan. 27fli§£g£y_gf the Ohio Falls Cities and Their Counties, with Biographical Sketches (Cleveland, Ohio: L.A. Williams, 1882), I, 264. 28Banvard MSS #6302. zgfliggggy g; the Ohio Falls Cities, 1, 264. 30Banvard M88 #6302. The Cavalier was raised after the flood waters receded. Plagued 5y Bad luck, she snagged at Evansville, Indiana, and sank with a loss of two lives on August 10, 1838. Bradford Mitchell, ed. Merchant Steam Vessels 2f the United States, 1790-1860: "The Lytle- Holcamper List" (Staten Island, New York: The Steamship Historical Society of America, 1975), p. 248. Hereafter, the Lytle-Holcamper List. The Reindeer burnt the next year on August 19, 1833, andgsank near New Albany, Indiana. Lytle-Holcamper List, p. 298. 43 31R. Carlyle Buley, The Old Northwest Pioneer Period, 1815-1840 (Indianapolis. Indiana Historical Society, 1950), I, 436. 32Robert Baird, A View of the Valley of the Mississippi; or, the Emigrant' s and Traveller' s _Guide to the West, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Tanner, 1834 , p. 128. 33Buley, I, 438. 34Buley, I, 442. 3SBanvard MSS #6302. 36Description, Putnam Edition, p. 4. 37Public Opinion (Watertown, South Dakota), May 22, 1891. 1 38Richardson Wright, Hawkers and Walkers in Early America: Strolling Peddlers, Preachers, Lawyers, Doctors, Players, and Others, From The Beginning To The Civil War (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1927),p . 129. 39Wright, p. 132. 4OIbid. 41Louisville Democrat, November 3, 1846. 42Description, Putnam Edition, p. 4. 43Philip Graham, Showboats: The History of an American Institution (Austin: University of Texas _Press, 1951)] p. 12. 44Graham, p. 9. 45Duane Eldon Reed, "A History of Showboats on the Western Rivers," (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Michigan State University, 1977), I, 17. 46Graham, p. 12. 47Graham, p. 13. 48George D. Ford, These Were Actors (New York: Library Publishers, 1955), p. 123. 44 49Noah Miller Ludlow, Dramatic Life A: I Found It (New York: Benjamin Blom, 1966), p. 568. Manager and actor Ludlow's first-hand accounts of theatrical life on the frontier have been invaluable in the study of the nineteenth century American theatre. SOGraham, pp. 13-14. 51Graham, p. 14. 52Banvard MSS #6302. 53Graham, p. 21. 54Banvard MSS #6302. 55Ibid. 56Ibid. 57Ibid. 58H.P. Phelps, Players gf_a Century: A Record of the AlbanyStagg (Albany, New York: Joseph McDonough, 1880), p. 32. 59George C.D. Odell, Annals of the New York Stage (New York: Columbia University Press, 1927-1949), II, 600. 600de11, II, 445. 61Odell, II, 600. P.T. Barnum bought out John Scudder's museum items in 1850. 62Banvard MSS #6302. 63Buley, II, 598. 64Ibid. 65 Buley, II, 603. 66Buley, II, 605. 67Banvard MSS #6302. 68William Wilson, Indiana: A_History (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1966), p. 80 69Banvard MSS #6302. 45 700de11, III, 469. 710dell, III, 528. 72Banvard MSS #6302. 731219. 74Byron L. Troyer, Yesterday's Indiana (Miami, Florida: E.A. Seeman Publishing, 1975), p. 55. 75Wright, p. 247. 761219} 77Banvard MSS #6302. 781214. 791219- solhii. 81Ibid. 82Ibid. 33Ibid. 84Ibid. 35Ibid. 86Description, Putnam Edition, p. 5. 87Banvard MSS #6302. 881219- 891919- 90Edith Banvard, Notes #4267, Banvard Family Papers. 91Banvard MSS #6302. 92Ibid. 46 93Banvard MSS #6302. 941219. 951219- 961219: 97Ibid. 98Ibid. 99Ibid. 10010id. 101Joseph Cowell, Thirty Years Passed Among the Players 13 England and America (New York: Harper, 1844), p. 80. 102Cowell, p. 81. 1°30de11, III, 422. 104William G.B. Carson, The Theatre on the Frontier: The Earlngears 9f_the St. Louis Stage, 25d ed. (New York: Benjamin Blom, 1965), pp. 149-50. 105John E.L. Robertson, "Paducah: Origins to Second Class," The Register 9f_the Kentucky Historical Society, LXVI (April, 1968), 111. 106 Banvard MSS #6302. 1071616. 1°316id. 1090dell, IV, 419. 110William G.B. Carson, Managers 1g Distress: The St. Louis Sta e, 1840-1844 (St. Louis: St. Louis Historical Documents Foundation, 1949), p. 120. ‘1111616. 112Missouri Republican (St. Louis), March 24, 1841. 47 113Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook, Minnesota Historical Society. 114Description, Putnam Edition, p. 8. 115 1847. Republican Banner (Nashville, Tennessee), November 25, 116Lytle-Holcamper List, p. 282. 117McDermott, p. 22. In the Description, Putnam Edition (p. 8), Banvard claimed to be a partner with Albert Koch, but McDermott disputes this. The original "Infernal Regions" was a work created in Cincinnati in the late 1820's by Auguste Hervieu and Hiram Powers, with the assistance of Mrs. Trollope, mother of novelist Anthony Trollope. The painting was a diorama with a little working railroad transporting mechanical sinners to hell. The rails gave off a "galvanic shock when touch by unsuspecting visitors." (Buley II, 578.) Considering Banvard's interest in mechanics and science, his painting wasprobably an imitation of this popular work and therefore may have been a diorama instead of a panorama. 118Description, Putnam Edition, p. 9. 119Littell's Living Age, xv (December. 1847). 512. CHAPTER II BANVARD'S PANORAMA OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER: 1842-1852 John Banvard said that the idea of painting the Mississippi River came to him as a boy and he planned the panorama during his first voyage down the Ohio River in 1831. An anonymous biographer (probably Banvard himself) described the panorama's conception in an early pamphlet. [Banvard] had heard, and now realized, that America could boast the most picturesque and magni- ficent scenery in the world; and as he glided along by the beautiful shores, the boy resolved within him- self to be an Artist, that he might paint the beauties and sublimities of his native land. . . His grand object was to produce the largest painting in the world.1 But on another occasion, the artist said he conceived the panorama in 1840 as a reaction against certain critics who declared, "America has not artists commensurate with the grandeur and extent of her scenery."2 In a rush of patri-_ otic enthusiasm, Banvard decided to prove them wrong.3 The former statement, that he planned the painting as a boy, was probably an effort to head off rival Mississippi panoramists, all of whom claimed they had thought of the 48 49 idea before Banvard. The latter statement may have some Validity, but a more likely motive for the painting is that Banvard, through his successful experience with the Venice, St. Louis, and "Infernal Regions" paintings, discovered that a well-publicized panorama could be a lucrative enter- prise. He possessed a knack for anticipating public tastes and, until the disastrous theatre ventures later in his life, he consistently created entertainments the public was eager to pay for. Also Banvard's outstanding characteristic as a painter--the ability to work rapidly and accurately-- was ideally suited for large-scale paintings. Banvard probably saw panonamas as a child in New York. It is known, of course, that he constructed a diorama at an early age. Stollenwerck's "mechanical" panorama of a commerdial seaport was displayed in the early 1820's at a hall just a few blocks from the Banvard home at 157 Broadway.4 In September 1828, William Dunlap exhibited a scenic voyage entitled "A Trip to Niagara," again near the Banvard home.5 After serving his apprenticeship with the modest views of Venice and St. Louis and the "Infernal Regions" painting, Banvard was ready for his monumental task of painting the Mississippi River. In the spring of 1842,6 Banvard purchased pencils, brushes, and paper and in a small skiff set out on the Missouri River just above St. Louis. He sketched as he glided along in the current. Banvard later described his adventure. 50 The Missouri [illegible] a light pine staff and on a bright sunny morning in May I pushed off in the rapid current of the river to begin my apparent endless labor. The currents of the Missouri and Mississippi River flow quite rapidly averaging from four to six miles an hour. So I made fair progress along down the stream and began to fill my portfolio with sketches of the river shores. At first it appeared lonesome to me driftin all day in my little boat, but I finally got use d] to this.: Where the scenery was monotonous and un- interesting as much of it is, I would let my skiff drift unattended down the current of nights while I would lie on my hay bed in the bottom and sleep. The noise of a passing steamer would always awaken me then I would pull out of his way. No accident ever came near happening to me while thus floating at night, as I remember, save once when I was awakened by a loud rushing of the water and looking over the side of the skiff, I saw the boat was about rushing on an immense paddlewheel over which the water was rushing at a furious rate. I had just time to seize the oars and turn the skiff away from danger. Had my boat struck, I would egr- tainly have been upset and all my drawings lost. Banvard's anonymously written pamphlets offered an even more dramatic view. He would be weeks together without speaking to a human being, having no other company than his rifle, which furnished him with his meat from the game of the woods or the fowls of the river. . Several nights during the time, he was compelled to creep from under his skiff, where he slept, and sit all night on a log and breast the pelting storm, through fear that the banks of the river would cave upon him, and to escape the falling trees. During this time he pulled his little skiff more than two thousand miles. In the latter part of the summer [1842] he reached New Orleans. The yellow fever was raging in the city, but unmindful of that, he made his drawings of the place. The sun the while was so intensely hot, that his skin became so burned that it peeled off the backs of his hands and from his face. His eyes became inflamed by such constant and extraordinary effort.8 51 His sketches completed, Banvard returned north to Louisville. He acquired a larger boat and made a second trip "trading down the river" to earn money for the remainder of his project.9 He returned the following year (1844) and constructed a huge barn on the outskirts of Louisville. After buying "abundant supplies of colors, brushes," and other materials, he prepared "all the necessary studio equipment" in the barn "for hanging the canvas on the wall.” Periodically, he worked odd jobs, including painting the interior of an Odd Fellow's Hall, to support himself.10 In April 1846, Banvard's childhood friend, Selim Woodworth, passed through Louisville on a military expedition and called on Banvard. Woodworth wrote George P. Morris, editor of the New York Home Journal, about the progress of the Mississippi Panorama.11 I took advantage of the detention [at Louisville] to pay a visit to an old school-mate of mine, one of the master spirits of the age. I mean Banvard, the artist, who is engaged in the herculean task of paint- ing a panorama of the Mississippi River, upon more than three miles of canvassl--truthfully depicting a range of scenery of_upwards of two thousand miles in extent. In company with a travelling acquaintance, an English- man, I called at the Artist's studio, an immense wooden building expressly for the purpose, at the ex- treme outskirts of the city. After knocking several times, I at length succeeded in making myself heard, when the Artist himself, in his working cap and blouse, pallet and pencil in hand, came to the door to admit us. He did not at first recognize me, but when I mentioned my name, he dropped both pallet and pencil, and clasped me in his arms, so delighted was he to see me, after a separation of sixteen years. 52 Figure 3. ”Mississippi River Plantation Scene." Oil by John Banvard. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 53 Figure 3. 54 Banvard immediately conducted us into the interior of the building. He said he had selected the site for his building, far removed from the noise and bustle of the town, that he might apply himself more closely and uninterruptedly to his labor, and be free from the intrusion of visitors. Within the studio all seem chaos and confusion, but the life- like and natural appearances of a portion of his great picture was gig] displayed on one of the walls in a yet unfinishe state. Here and there were scattered about the floor piles of his original sketches, bales of canvass, and heaps of boxes. Paint boxes, jars, and kegs were strowed about with- out order or arrangement, while along one of the walls several large cases were piled, containing rolls of finished sections of the painting. On the opposite wall was spread a canvass, extending the length of the wall, upon which the artist was then at work. A portion of this canvass was wound on an upright roller, or drum, standing at one end of the building, and as the artist completes his painting, he thus disposes of it. Not having the time to spare, I could not stay to have all the immense cylinders unrolled for our inspection, for were were sufficiently occupied in examining that portion on which the artist is now engaged, and which is nearly completed, being from the mouth of the Red River to the Grand Gulf. . . As a medium for the study of geography of the portion of the country, it Lthe painting] will be of inestimable value. The manners and customs of the aborigines and settler--the modes of cultivating and harvesting the peculiarr crops--cotton, sugar, tobacco, etc.,--the shipping of the produce in all the variety and novel and curious conveyances employed on these rivers for transportation-—are here so vividly por- trayed that but a slight stretch of the imagination would bring the noise of the puffing steamboats from the river, and the songs of the negroes in the field, is music to the ear, and one seems to inhale the very atmosphere before him. . . The mode of exhibiting it is ingenious, and will require considerable machinery. It will be placed upon upright revolving cylinders and the canvas gradually will pass before the spectator, thus affording the artist the opportunity of explain- ing the whole work.12 55 Woodworth's letter provides the earliest documentation of the size of the painting. The claim of three miles was never seriously questioned except by Banvard's rival pano- ramists, and its actual length is difficult to determine. Banvard always carefully advertised the Panorama as a work "extensively known as the ThreeeMile Picture." The figure most often given for its length was 1,320 feet.13 Although Banvard later added scenes from the Missouri and Ohio Rivers, this figure is probably correct. Since the painting was twelve feet high,14 its total area in its original form was 15,840 square feet, not three miles in linear measurement. Apparently Banvard had nearly finished his mechanical apparatus for showing the panorama by the time Woodworth visited. By inventing an upper track system to keep the top of the canvas taut, he eliminated the sagging problem experienced by previous panorama exhibitors and gained an edge on his competitors. His invention was considered of sufficient importance to be the subject of a lengthy article in Scientific American. (See Figure 4.)15 In June 1846, Banvard rented a hall in Louisville and advertised "a mile or so" of his painting for public exhibi- tion.16 The Louisville Gas Company, probably because of past experience with unreliable theatrical troupes and exhibitors, demanded double the usual installation fee for 56 Figure 4. Banvard's invention for the moving panorama. (Sketch courtesy of Cynthia Schaefer.) The mechanical devices employed are very simple but answer the purpose in a most admirable manner. The canvass is wound upon one large vertical roller while it is being unrolled form the other,--This is done by bevel gearing A and B. As there is a great extent of canvass spread at once, which being painted is very heavy, it is very important to hold it up between the rollers and prevent it from what is technically termed sa in . To accomplish this object well, there 15 a cross beam erected in which there are set a double row of pulleys C C C. "Banvard's Panorama," Scientific American, IV (December 16, 1848), 100. \ § § Q Q a _ - _ _. T; , , ,6 / 4, ”a, .7 7, , ’ 1 I I ‘ ,1}, \I\ 1 58 gas fixtures.17 Banvard traded an unspecified invention of his to a local scientific society for fifty paid advance tickets and raised the money for his installation fee.18 On June 29, 1846, he announced: "Banvard's Grand Moving Panorama of the Mississippi will open at the Apollo Rooms, on Monday Evening, June 29, 1846, and continue every evening till Saturday, July 4." Admission was fifty cents for adults, half price for children and servants.19 On opening night, according to Banvard, not a single patron attended the panorama performance. He blamed it on the inclement weather20 and the Louisville Morning Courier agreed. The paper announced on June 30 that "the business of the Panorama, Theatre, Garden, Ice Creameries, etc., was most essentially done for. It has been some time since we had such a hard and incessant rain as last night."21 The next morning Banvard, undaunted, went down to the Louisville docks, buttonholed steamer captains and crewmen, and passed out free tickets in the hopes that word of mouth would increase his-paying audience. The strategy apparently worked; Banvard was forced to turn customers away by the end of the week and the run was ex- tended. Several surrounding towns organized steamboat 59 excursions to see the exhibition and "for a solid month he did great business."22 Encouraged by the popular response, Banvard closed the exhibition and returned to his studios where he finished the painting and added views of the Ohio and Missouri Rivers in about ten weeks. He re-opened his lec- tures and exhibit at the Apollo Rooms on October 19, 1846, and closed October 31. "The great three-mile painting," the Morning Courier declared, was "one of the greatest achievements of industry and genius on record;"23 and it was "destined to be one of the most celebrated paintings of the age."24 After gathering written testimonials on the accuracy of the Panorama from Fred A. Kaye, Louisville's mayor, and the Secretary and members of the Kentucky Historical Society, Banvard prepared to take his work to Cincinnati.25 But he received an urgent dispatch from Boston that his mother was seriously ill. Swiftly changing plans, Banvard bundled up his massive painting into several large boxes and headed for Boston on the steamer Clipper.26 At Brownsville, Pennsylvania, he unloaded his equipment and proceeded by heavy wagon and railroad to Boston.27 60 II. After visiting his mother, sisters, and brother Joseph, whom he had not seen since leaving New York fifteen years earlier, Banvard rented Boston's Armory Hall, Washington Street and converted it into a theatre for his exhibition. The exact date of his opening has not been determined, but it was probably December 15, 1846.28 Banvard advertised nightly performances, except Sundays, with matinees on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Admission was fifty cents for adults.29 Banvard worked hard to perfect his panorama per- formance technique. He commissioned Thomas Bricher, organist for Boston's Bowdoin Street Church,30 to compose a series of waltzes as background music for the performance. The waltzes were published as sheet music by Oliver Ditson at Boston in 1847, and their sale, combined with the proceeds from descriptive pamphlets, "materially augmented" Banvard's income for the next several years.31 Elizabeth Goodnow, the daughter of a Sudbury, Massachusetts.dry-goods merchant and an "accomplished pianist,"32 was engaged to play the Mississippi waltzes and otherincidental music during performances. Elizabeth, dark, slender, and attractive, soon fell in love with Banvard. After a short courtship they were married by 61 his brother, the Reverend Joseph Banvard, at his Harvard Street Baptist Church on May 17, 1848.33 The panorama performance was carefully orchestrated. The audience was led into a darkened auditorium where Elizabeth played soft background music. At eight o'clock Banvard would stride through the house, the curtain would n34 rise, and "ordinary footlights would illuminate the first scene of the painting. Banvard, seated "upon a platform,"35 or more often standing, would describe the scenes as they passed by the spectators. He used a long pointer to direct the audience's attention to certain details. The viewer could watch an ascension of the Mississippi River from New Orleans and at the next per- formance descend the Missouri, Ohio, and Mississippi Rivers as the panorama was unrolled in the opposite direction.36 The painting was framed in such a manner that the large machinery necessary for turning the cylinders was hidden from the audience's view. (See Figure 9.) Banvard worked on his lectures until he no longer seemed "as uncultivated as the scenery he. . . delineated."37 His "racy anecdotes"38 and his "short, pithy remarks" revealed "much information on the manners and habits" of the people in the West.39 "Take the artist from the painting," a critic noted, "with his instructive lectures, 62 interesting explanations, andmamusing anecdotes, and you take away one of the principle attractions."40 The lectures concerned the geographical, social, and scientific aspects of the Western river system, but Banvard's stories (unverifiable for the most part) demon- strated his Showmanship. One of his stories, an attack by the notorious Murrell gang, a band of riverboat pirates who terrorized the West for years, was an impossibility. The gang had been broken up prior to Banvard's Voyages.41 On one occasion, as Banvard's floating grocery store and theatre descended the Mississippi, a group of disgruntled customers, unable to attend a sold-out performance, cut the boat's shore rope and the craft floated several miles down- stream before performers or patrons were aware of what had happened. The story was suspiciously similar to one told by the Chapmans. Some young men, angered by the Floating Theatre's fifty-cent admission fee, took an occasion when the performance was proceeding and the audience seemed to be highly diverted, to quietly cast the boat from its moorings, and before actors or audience were aware of the situ- ation. . . the stream had carried them more than a mile before they got to shore again. Banvard also told the tale of his trip to Boston when he passed off his panorama cylinder boxes as coffins containing recent casualties of the Mexican-American War. Banvard transported the boxes through the generosity of several 63 patriotic steamer passengers who volunteered as pall- bearers. Banvard thanked the ship's captain "for the honor conferred upon Banvard's grand panorama of the Mississippi."43 The performance lasted from two44 to three hours,45 and the difference lay in Banvard's improvisational abilities and audience reaction. During one Boston performance a St. Louis merchant recognized his store and stopped the show by shouting, "That's my store! Halloa there, captain! Stop the boat--I want to go ashore and see my wife and familyl!" He later remarked that "in a moment he seemed" to be back in St. Louis.46 Audiences certainly found the illusion of the Mississippi Panorama fascinating. Banvard's technical skills as a painter were those of a theatrical scenic artist and it is difficult to judge the panorama as a work of art. His later paintings show a certain proficiency, particularly in color and perspective (probably with the aid of a camera obscura), but the Mississippi Panorama was a part of a theatrical event. Because the painting was "in motion and had to be viewed from a distance, it was more like stage scenery than studio art."47 The lifeelike effect that his contemporaries wondered upon was a combination of motion, lighting effects, and Banvard's entertaining performance style. The eye, faced with the monumental task of sorting out thousands of moving images, received impressions rather than detail. 64 "His distances and atmospheric effects," said an acquaintance, "were his leading characteristics as a painter. His hills always seemed miles away with a soft haze resting on them."48 Banvard's pictures, says Sara G. Bowerman, "were executed with [a] certain crude vigor, but without technical skill."49 His biographical entry in the National Cyclgpaedia 9f_American Biography comments, "In rapidity of execution he never had an equal,"50 hardly a testimonial to great art. Banvard himself, at least in the early years, realized the limitations of his talent. A London pamphlet stated that he "does not exhibit the painting as a work of art, but as a correct representation of the country it portrays and its remarkable accuracy and "51 truthfulness. "This is," noted the London Times, "exactly the point of view from which the work should be considered."52 The Mississippi Panorama created a sensation in Boston. Audiences packed Armory Hall to see the "acres and miles of canvas."53 The New Englanders' "scarcity of knowledge [about the West] gave such knowledge as there was a peculiar appeal,"54 and Banvard, rather than being received as a "folk painter of geographic newsreels,"55 was hailed as a contributor to the artistic, educational, and scientific knowledge of the age. After the Boston exhibit he would not consider himself a theatrical entertainer 65 and scenic artist--which he was-~but a serious artist whose opinions and achievements merited attention in scientific and artistic circles. He cultivated friendships with scientists and poets and men such as Edward Everett, Abbott Lawrence, and George Bancroft.S6 He also immersed himself in civic affairs. When Boston's old Mason Street City School was torn down, Banvard offered space in Armory Hall for classrooms.57 By emphasizing the educational nature of his painting (at specified times school groups were admitted free to the performances) he promoted the Mississippi Panorama as family entertainment, above the supposedly low moral standards of the regular theatre. "Banvard's Panorama of the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio Rivers" ran at Armory Hall for over six months and attracted 251,702 spectators.58 Banvard's profits were in excess of $50,000, an enormous sum for the period.59 Following plans he had made earlier, Banvard announced that he was taking the Panorama to New York. At one of his final Boston performances on April 20, 1847, he invited several dignitaries, including Massachusetts Governor George N. Briggs, William Bradbury, Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, and South Carolina Senator John C. Calhoun. The audience was believed to be the largest in Boston's theatrical history.60 Governor Briggs read a flowery speech at the conclusion of the performance, 66 Figure 5. ”Autumn Scene." Oil by John Banvard. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 67 Figure 5. 68 declaring that the "vast and beautiful panorama" and the "genius and enterprise of the author" would be honored as long as the "Great Father of Waters and its numerous tributaries" continued to "pour their great tides into the ocean."61 Then the audience "unanimously adopted" a resolution offered by Senator Calhoun. Resolved, that we regard the Panorama of the Mississippi River, painted by Mr. John Banvard, as a truly wonderful and magnificent production; and we deem it but a just appreciation. . . of the boldness and originality of the conception, and of the in-' dustry and indefatigable perseverance of the young and talented artist, in the execution of his herculean work.62 The Mississippi River Panorama left its mark on New England life and letters. Writers found in its immense size and subject matter an expression of the undeveloped future of the nation. The Panorama inspired Longfellow, Whittier, and Thoreau to directly refer to it in their works. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), who was on the final drafts of his epic poem Evangeline, attended a Banvard performance as indicated in his journal. December 16, 1846. Finished this morning and copied, the first canto of the second part of Evangeline. The portions of the poem which I write in the morning, I write chiefly standing at my desk here, so as to need no copying. . . I see a panorama of the Mississippi ad- vertised. This comes very é propos. The river comes to me instead of my going to t e river; and as it is to flow through the pages of the poem, I look upon this as a special benediction.63 69 On December 19 Longfellow devoted his entire journal entry to Banvard's performance: Went to see Banvard's moving diorama [sic] of the Mississippi. One seems to be sailing—ddwn the great stream and sees the boats and the sand- banks crested with cotton-wood, and the bayous by moonlight. Three miles of canvas, and a great deal of merit.64 The painting inspired much of the "romantic backdrop" for Evangeline's long trek to Louisiana,65 and soon after completing the poem, Longfellow used the Panorama again. In Kavanaugh, a novel that used Banvard's spectacle as an antithesis to the idea that a great national literature must be universal in nature, the pompous Mr. Hathaway argues with Mr. Churchill, a writer and Longfellow's spokesman. "I think, Mr. Churchill," said he, "that we want_a national literature commensurate with our mountains and rivers,e-commensurate with Niagara, and the Alleghenies, and the Great Lakes!" "Oh ! II "We want a national epic that shall corres- pond to the size of the country; that shall be to all other epics what Banvard's Panorama of the Mississippi is to all other paintings,--the largest in the world!" "Ah ! H "We want a national drama in which scope enough shall be given to our gigantic ideas, and to the unparalleled activity and progress of our people!" "Of course!"66 70 Literary historian Dorothy Ann Dondore says that the Panorama also served John Greenleaf Whittier (1807- 1892) as the source and title poem of his The Panorama and Other Poems (1856).67 According to Dondore, the opening stanzas of the title poem "might. . . be taken as an accurate description" of Banvard's Boston shows.68 Through the long hall the shuttered windows shed A dubious light on every upturned head. On the pale Showman reading from his stage The hieroglyphics of that facial page; Half ~sad‘.. half scornful, listening to the bruit Of restless cane-tap and impatient foot, And the shrill call, across the general din, "Roll up your curtain! Let the show begin.” At length a murmur like the winds that break Into green waves the prairie's grassy lake, Deepened and swelled to music clear and loud, And, as the west-wind lifts a summer cloud, The curtain rose, disclosing wide and far A green land stretching to the even star, Fair flowers hummed over by the desert bees, Marked by tall bluffs whose slopes of greeness show Fantastic outcrops of rock below; The slow result of patient Nature's pains And plastic fingering of her sun and rains; Arch, tower, and gate, grotesquely windowed hall, And long escarpment of half-crumbled wall, Huger than those which, from steep hills of vine Star through their loopholes on the tralled Rhine; Of the land's dwellers in an age unguggsed; The unsung Jotuns of the mystic West. Interestingly, Banvard's first scene featured a wrecked steamer called the West Wind. The rest of the second stanza reproduces the first scenes in the Panorama. (See Appendix.) 71 As late as 1862, Banvard's Panorama influenced New England writers. In Atlantic Monthly, Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) compared Banvard's Panorama with European panoramas and saw the symbolic value of the depiction of the vast Western regions. Soon after, I went to see a panorama of the Mississippi, and as I worked my way up the river in the light of today and saw the steamboats wooding up, counted the rising cities, gazed on the fresh ruins of Nauvoo, beheld the Indians moving west across the stream. . . I saw that this was a Rhine stream of a different kind; that the foundations of castles were yet to be laid, and the famous bridges were yet to be thrown over the river; and I felt that this was the heroic egg itself, though we know it not, for the hgao is commonly the simplest and obscurist of men. III. In New York, Banvard rented a studio and leased Panorama Hall, a building adjoining Niblo's Garden at 598 Broadway, and Opened his exhibition in time for the Christmas season, Monday, December 13, 1847.71 Like Bostonians, New Yorkers were fascinated by the massive painting. Close observers [says critic Joseph Earl Arringtod] pointed out the main characteristics of its execution. The separate objects of interest appeared fully visible and not lost in the general landscape, and each scene made an interesting picture in itself. The drawing was bold in outline, the coloring and perspective absolutely true to nature. The daily atmospheric conditions and the changes from 72 day to night where all delineated on the canvas, so as to correspond to the actual voyage on the river, which took four days and three nights by fast steamer. The artist, therefore, introduced three lovely moonlight views. Newspapers praised the Panorama as the "most superior exhibition ever produced before this public"73 and "a monument of native talent and American genius."74 An observer who had traveled on the Mississippi wrote: As the curtain rises and the painting begins to move, the visitor has only to imagine himself on board the swiftest steamers, passing on towards New Orleans, and he can enjoy the life-like and pleasing view of all the interesting scenery, towns, islands, boats, etc., that would meet one's eye between the upper regions of the Mississippi and the Gulf of Mexico. The illusion of the artist is so perfect that when you see a steamboat, it appears in its full size and dimensions, with the steam and vapor passing out of the smoke pipes, and the water splashing and foam- ing about the huge paddles on the sides of the boat, and so with other objects. Indeed, the whole painting appears more like the living reality than a work of art. Banvard decided to enlarge his Panorama by adding a section featuring the Upper Missouri River, although no evidence exists that he ever traveled on the Upper Missouri. A visitor to his New York studio discovered that Banvard had intended to paint "a panorama of the Missouri before he left the West, but his funds gave out. . . So he brought the drawings with him and has transferred them to canvas."76 This is highly suspect. Historian Doane Robinson, who knew Banvard, believes he borrowed scenes of the Upper Missouri from paintings by George Catlin (1796-1872), the famous 73 chronicler of Indian life.77 A few years later Catlin accused Banvard of copying his works; Banvard counter- claimed that Catlin stole his views of the Mississippi. This was not the last time that Banvard would be accused of plagerism. The Missouri Riveraddition.renewed public interest in the Panorama and its run was extended through September 1848. Banvard was now "one of the wealthiest individuals on earth;"78 175,896 spectators attended the Panorama performances in New York.79 The Boston and New York performances established John Banvard as the most famous artist in America, and despite the fact that his exhibitions were theatrical events, his "greatest influence was in the arts--the panorama movement itself."80 Artists, hoping to duplicate Banvard's critical and financial success, were "going to work in all directions, painting rivers, etc."81 John~ Rowson Smith, who produced a "four-mile painting,"82 Sam Stockwell,83 Henry Lewis,84 and Leon Pomare’de85 all exhibited panoramas of the Mississippi, and John J. Egan and Samuel A. Hudson exhibited long panoramas of the Western regions.86 Panoramas flourished and artists strived "to satisfy or attempt to satisfy all demands that £u1exacting‘public could make on an expanding industry."87 74 Banvard remained the most successful. He was the first to exhibit a panorama of the Mississippi and his painting was the longest in history. His performances, despite the homespun humor, were sophisticated (in St. Louis a panorama of "The Burning of Moscow" featured "experiments in Magic and Ventriloquism" and, of course, Miss Hayden, a magician, backed up panorama588), and by emphasizing the moral and educational values of his work as well as the entertainment Values, he lured both theatre audiences and those who ordinarily considered the theatre immoral. Of the thousands of panoramas produced in the middle of the nineteenth century, Banvard"s Mississippi Panorama was the only one to win widespread fame and bring its owner financial success. While in New York, the untiring Banvard began negotiating for an English tour.89 He cut short the New York engagement, he later told a friend, because he learned that John Rowson Smith, a former theatrical artist from New Orleans, was planning a London exhibition.90 Smith's panorama, said to be "half as large again as Banvard's,"91 was considered by its creator as a serious work of art and, unlike Banvard's work, "not a crude effort of the un- cultivated artist."92 The "four-mile panorama" had been painted "to show places in their true light, instead of a 7S mere apology from imagination, and to give something like a correct and general character of the Great West.”93 On September 12, 1848, Banvard traveled to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to call on Edward Everett (1794-1865), President of Harvard College, and ask for letters of introduction to England.94 Everett, ex- Governor of Massachusetts and former U.S. Congressman, served as U.S. Minister to Great Britain from 1841 to 1845.95 Banvard sought advice on how he could best exhibit his Panorama in England. Everett plainly told him that his only chance of establishing superiority over Smith was to win the patronage of Queen Victoria. But Banvard was a private citizen and a commerical exhibitor and as such could not count on any official American governmental introduction to the Queen. The proper approach, Everett counseled, was to approach the Queen indirectly by gaining access to those around her. To illustrate this indirect approach, Everett related to Banvard how he was instrumental in the English success of P.T. Barnum (1810-1891) and Charles S. Stratton (1838- 1883), "Tom Thumb." Everett had introduced "Tom Thumb" at a banquet attended by the Queen's personal physician and Prince Albert's private secretary. After hearing of the midget's antics from the two men, the Queen requested a command performance and the ensuing publicity insured 76 Barnum's English success. The statesman suggested this sort of approach would work for Banvard, too.96 Then Everett wrote letters of introduction under the cover of the following. Cambridge 11 September, 1848 Dear Sir: I enclose you three letters for London. One is to Mr. Bancroft. If it is profitable to effect the object you consider of importance--a visit from the Queen, he is the only person who can give you much and toward it--Dr. Holland is a physician of the highest respectability, a man of Science, and as intelligent traveller, in this country. Sir Roderic Murchison is a celebrated geologist, and a scientific traveller of great repute, formerly President of the Geographical Society. Wishing you much success, I remain Dear Sir, Very truly yours, Edward Everett97 Later that afternoon, Banvard visited Abbott Lawrence (1792-1855), wealthy cotton mill owner, ex-Congressman, and recent founder of the School of Science at Harvard College, who also wrote a letter of introduction.98 IV. At 12:30 P.M., September 27, 1848, Banvard and his wife Elizabeth and a male secretary identified only as Paul, sailed on the Europa bound from New York to Liverpool.99 The voyage proved eventful. Elizabeth and Paul fell seasick the first day. They were confined to their cabins for the rest of the voyage, but Banvard 77 avoided illness by pacing back and forth on the deck during the daylight hours. A near collision with another ship occurred on October 2,100 and on October 4, a bottle of Elizabeth's cologne water fell into a kerosene lamp, ig- niting the Banvard cabin. Elizabeth seized a water pitcher and doused the fire, but the cabin suffered damage.101 The Banvards arrived in Liverpool, Thursday, October 10. The customs officials could not decide the proper tariff charge for the four heavy cylinders containing the panorama. Banvard expected to pay forty pounds ($200) in duty taxes, but the Inspector General, in a gesture of Anglo-American goodwill, charged only four pence, one 102 penny for each cylinder. Banvard spent three days in Liverpool while Elizabeth and Paul recovered from the effects of their transatlantic journey. He hired a car- riage and rode around the city, observing the houses and people and found Liverpool a dirty city, the "streets 103 filled with beggars." Before leaving for London Banvard paid his bill at the Waterloo Hotel. 9 lbs 15 shill 6 pence, (near $50) for three of us. In the U.S. the same accomodations could be had for $16 or $18. Tallow candles for lights! Newspapers are not plentiful. Found it hard to get hold of one. Landlord takes several and hires them to his guests at a penny a turn.104 On October 14, the Banvards left for London by rail ("fare 1 pound l7 shill") and arrived at dusk. They stayed at 78 Figure 6 John Banvard, Illustration. From title page of Banvard, or, the Adventures 3: EB Artist: An O'er True Tale (London: Chapman, 1849). (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 79 ..... ..~ ... 3.. _ 0.0.0....0Oo.0....00600t0 ..0. $.00 0.“.0. O. .I NEEDS m m GU L m . L. 8 mm.“ m 3 0mma- ”0 .Dm._... . so Nnml as 0mm 8 in m w m . E 6.. m & o . 34.68. . a CI... 6 Figure 6. 80 Morley's Hotel in Trafalgar Square until more permanent lodgings could be found.105 The next morning Banvard "roamed about the west- end," observing the architecture and the manners and customs of the Londoners. London, he thought, was "the cleanest city [I] was ever in."106 That afternoon he called on George Catlin, the famous ex-patriate painter of American Indians, at his Indian Museum in Leicester Square. The two men were both "chain-lightning artists," alike "in temperment. . . and restless activity."107 Catlin had just returned from Paris and advised Banvard to exhibit his panorama there. Banvard, impressed by Catlin's thoughtfulness, did not know that at that very moment Catlin was involved in a scheme to copy Banvard's Panorama and pass it off as the original. Banvard was unimpressed, however, by Catlin's appearance. Dirty and unkempt, the painter looked nothing like the world famous artist Banvard had expected. Catlin confessed that he was penniless. The unsuspecting Banvard loaned him fifty pounds, an act he would later regret.108 After renting Egyptian Hall in Picadilly (the site of Catlin's first London exhibition in 1840) Banvard began preparing for his opening. He gave a private per- formance for newspaper editors on November 25, 1848,109 and on December 6, 1848, in time for the Christmas holiday 81 trade, presented his first public shows.110 Performances were at 2:30 P.M. and 7:30 P.M. and admission was two shillings.111 Banvard also contracted publisher J.W. Golbourn for another batch of descriptive pamphlets and sold them for sixpence each.112 London reacted to the Panorama in the same manner as Boston and New York. The London Observer stated, "This is truly an extraordinary work. We have never seen a work. . . so grand in its whole character, so truthful in its delineation, or so interesting to the spectator."113 The Morning Advertiser was even more effusive. It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of this magnificent work of art. It is something more than an exhibition. It is a great work, which not only astonishes by its magnitude and grandeur, but it is highly instructive and interesting. It is, in fact, a work calculated to someihing more than gratify or amuse a vacant hour.11 The London Times, despite an English bias, offered a more balanced appraisal. It is drawn along on two cylinders, a small portion being exhibited at a time, so that the aud- ience may imagine they are performing the journey along the river, especially as the illusion is heightened by dioramic effects representing the changes of the day. The southern portion is some- what monotonous, the towns and landscapes along the shore being very similar to each other, and the vessels on the river, totally unlike anything European, giving the chief animation to the scene. The labour of the artist, Mr. Banvard, in making the drawings for this panorama must have been very great, and herein lies his chief merit, for although a feeling for atmosphere is generally 82 Figure 7. "Mississippi River Scene at Night, with Steamboat." Oil by John Banvard. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 83 Figure 7. 84 Figure 8. "John Banvard, c. 1849." Artist unknown. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 85 Figure 8. 86 shown in his backgrounds, and isolated portions of his picture evince a knowledge of effect, much of it is crude, and asva work of art, it will not bear comparison with the dioramas and panoramas of this country. Banvard's "witty and entertaining" lectures delighted audiences. For many Londoners this was their first encounter with an American.116 "Mr. Banvard," a news- paper reported, "tells many an amusing and illustrating anecdote; while it adds not a little to the entertainment, affords also a glance at American character, and is not without interest and instruction."117 The London Sun thought Banvard's performance was delivered in "the most quaint and humorous style imaginable. His Yankee twang [was] delicious."118 A Miss Egan replaced Elizabeth as pianist,119 and Banvard commissioned Madame Schweiso to set "The White Fawn," a romantic poem written by Banvard, to music.120 On reaching the Selma Bluffs portion of the Panorama, Banvard would recite the poem and this segment of the performance was a favorite of English audiences.121 Banvard and Elizabeth moved into permanent lodgings at 162 Regent Street,122 and each day the artist would leave home for the American Minister's house in hopes of meeting a close acquaintance of Queen Victoria. He in- vited Charles Dickens to a private showing, but the famous writer attended a performance unannounced with the general public instead. 87 Sixteenth December, 1848 Sir: You were so good as to send me a card of admission to the private view of the result of your extra- ordinary perseverance and energy. I could not avail myself of it, being out of town at the time, but I have since visited the exhibition and in thanking you, your remembrance of me, cannot refrain from saying that I was in the highest degree in- terested and pleased by your picture--by its faith- fulness--by your account of it--by its unmarkable characteristics-~by the striking and original manner in which the scenes it represents are plainly presented to the spectator. Accept my best wishes for your success in England. Faithfully yours, Charles Dickens123 As a journalist, Dickens found the Panorama useful. In an article in his magazine Household Words, Dickens presented the indomitable Mr. Booley, a meek London gentleman who describes his lengthy travels and adventures around the world beginning with a trip down the Mississippi River. At the conclusion of the piece the reader discovers that Mr. Booley has gone no farther than the distance between his house and the nearest panorama hall. When I was a boy [Mr. Booley explains] such travelling would have been impossible. . . It is a delightful characteristic of these times, that new and cheap means are continually being devised, for conveying the results of actual experience, to those who are unable to obtain experiences for them- selves; and to bring them within the reach of the people; for it is they at large who are addressed in these endeavors, and not exclusive audiences. New worlds open out to them, beyond their little worlds, and widen their range of reflection, information, sympathy, interest. The more man knows of man, the better for common brotherhood among us all.124 88 Banvard assumed that Dickens, as England's most popular author, had some influence with the Queen, but he did not.125 All through the winter Banvard called on George Bancroft (1800-1891), scholar, diplomat, ex- Congressman, and America's first great historian.126 Appointed "envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to England" by President James Polk in 1846, Bancroft was the highest ranking American official in England.127 One day in January 1849, Banvard was at the Bancrofts when Bancroft's wife, Elizabeth Davis Bliss, introduced the artist to Amelia Murray, Maid of Honor to Queen Victoria. This was the opportunity Banvard had been waiting for. He invited Miss Murray and Mrs. Bancroft to a private showing of the Panorama that evening and the two women agreed to come. Banvard then rushed out and had one of his pamphlets "beautifully bound in crimson velvet and gold for to get in Her Majesty's hands in some manner."128 At the conclusion of the evening performance, Banvard gave the pamphlet to Miss Murray and asked her to deliver it to the Queen. She did so the next morning.129 A few weeks later Banvard received a summons to Buckingham Palace where Charles Phipps (1801-1866), Prince Albert's private secretary, informed the artist that the Queen was anxious to see the painting. Her Majesty's 89 schedule was full until April 1849, so it was agreed that Banvard would exhibit the Panorama, at the Queen's expense, at Windsor Castle over the Easter holidays, April, 1849.130 Banvard selected St. George's Hall in Windsor Castle for his command performance. The Hall was a good choice; a "fine organ" located there131 greatly enhanced the atmosphere surrounding the exhibit.132 On April 11, 1849, Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, young Prince Edward, and several members of the Royal Family attended the Panorama performance. The Queen was delighted with it and at the conclusion of Banvard's lecture she gave him a special medal anda."distinguished mark of her Royal Approbation."133 A week later, Banvard received a letter from Major General Bowes, Master of the Queen's Household. Sir: Colonel Phipps has received the commands of Her Majesty to forward to Mr. Banvard the enclosed cheque for £25, for his Exhibition of the Panorama of the Mississippi at Windsor Castle. Windsor Castle April 16, 1849134 Banvard considered this command performance the highest point of his career, and he returned to London convinced that the Queen's recognition assured him a lifetime income from the Panorama.135 90 Figure 9. ”Mr. Banvard describing his Panorama to Queen Victoria. " Sketch from Description of Banvard's Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (London, 1852). (Courtesy 6f the Minnesota Historical Society.) 91 Figure 9. Au!» d1... Her 5 g < F ; E 1.. < E 5, r n. 5.. 5’ ‘3 5 .= E .n .: 5‘ E; 'u a I 4 > v. < :3 i I . S1 Gmrcr‘s "all, Mud-vu- (‘a-llr. I l < E: i = E -. 92 During the 1849-50 theatrical season fifty pano- ramas were exhibited in London136 and several were ad- vertised as the "original Mississippi panorama." Banvard's most serious competitor was John Rowson Smith. Smith's business partner, a Professor Risley, informed English audiences, without documentation, that Smith's first Mississippi panorama was shown in Boston in 1839, but unfortunately it was destroyed by fire. Smith worked for five years producing another and exhibited it in 1844, two years before Banvard's Louisville debut.137 For the first time Banvard's virtual monopoly on panorama performances was seriously threatened. He issued a pamphlet in 1849 that warned! The public should be on their guard against several spurious copies and incorrect imitations which have been hurriedly prepared by parties of unprincipled persons, who are now endeavoring to palm them off as being original in various parts of the country; thus robbing Mr. Banvard of the fruits of his years of toil and danger.”8 Banvard solicited testimonials from Edward Everett ("Mr. Banvard. . . is the originator and inventor of this enormous class of paintings."), Charles Dickens, and Bayard Taylor (1825-1878), well-known travel writer and poet.139 His friend Abbott Lawrence, who had replaced George Bancroft as U.S. Minister in London, certified that Banvard was "the sole author of the moving panorama of the Mississippi."140 93 George Catlin, now an embittered, broken man whose wife and youngest child had recently died, entered the controversy. Catlin charged Banvard with copying his scenes of the Upper Missouri and Mississippi Rviers from Catlin's paintings of the same region. Banvard counter- attaeked by charging that Catlin and others painted Risley and Smith's panorama ip_England by sending art students to his performances to hurriedly sketch the various scenes.141 Banvard's charges were probably true; English audiences had tired ofCatlin's endless Indian exhibitions and he and his three small daughters were living in poverty in Waterloo Street. Catlin took on odd painting jobs to survive.142 When Englishman W.A. Brunning, age thirty-one and a member of the Society of British Artists, died in 1850, Banvard grimly noted in his diary that the Sunday Times credited Brunning with being "the principle painter on 'Risley's panorama of the Mississippi.”143 However, Banvard also contributed to the confusion by exhibiting two panoramas. He spent several months in London painting the western bank of the Mississippi (the original featured the eastern bank) and new views of the Missouri and Ohio Rivers. He also added scenes from the Ohio to his original painting.144 94 In May 1849, leaving the new panorama behind in London, Banvard launched a tour of the English provinces with the original Mississippi Panorama. He assured audiences that they were seeing the genuine painting and critics agreed. Surely we love fair play, [commented the Manchester Spectator] and would wish to be found taking the side of the man of intellect, skill, and physical endurance against him who is a mere purloiner of a good idea. We say thus much because another picture of the Mississippi is about to be exhibited here, which picture was hurriedly painted about a year after the first exhibition Banvard's in the United States, brought over to London, and palmed off as the original. The faithfulness of Banvard's picture--independent of all considerations with regard to the origination of this great pano- ramic idea--which faithfulness is attested by hundreds who have steamed the great father of waters--should protect it from the efforts of those who hawk about spurious copies for mere speculation purposes. Comments of the American press on the controversy were reprinted in England. The Boston Bee declared that Risley and Smith had "no claim to originality."146 The Louisville Democrat came to Banvard's defense by saying, "We understand that some speculators have 'gotten up' a panorama of the Mississippi. . . This impudent false- hood may humbug some people in England, but here it could only excite a smile at the assurance of the author."147 For the next two and a half years Banvard's Panorama toured the English privinces, including stops at Edinburgh, Leamington, Bath, Leeds, York, Halifax, Worcester, New Port, Cheltenham, St. Leonard's, Cardiff, Merthyr, Swansea, Jersey, Brighton, and Dublin, Ireland. By the winter of 95 1850-51, the London panorama performances had drawn 604,524 viewers, while the provincial tour had a total audience of 93,976.148 In May 1850, Banvard and Elizabeth traveled to Paris to exhibit the London version of the Panorama. After settling into lodgings at the H3te1 de Paris in the Champs Elyseé, the entrepreneur took long walking tours, carefully jotting down in his diary the habits of the shopkeepers and hat and flower girls, the smells and sounds of the city, and the architectural features of the churches and houses.149 But the novelty of Paris soon wore off. Banvard wanted to travel to exotic places in search of fresh material for new and better panoramas. In the summer of 1850, he left Elizabeth and their new daughter Gertrude in Paris in care of a housekeeper named Mrs. Palmer and headed for Egypt and the Nile River.150 For twelve months John Banvard disappeared from public view. He hired a guide,Hassan Ismael, and, in the company of William A. Lilliendahl, an American businessman he met in Egypt,151 ascended the Nile River, making "drawings of all the antiquities and scenery along its banks."152 He also collected several ancient artifacts.153 Next he made his way through Palestine "to the Jordan and Dead Sea making sketches of the cities, scenery, etc."154 96 He then returned to Paris by way of Italy, Switzerland, and other European countries.155 Back in Paris Banvard began a new panorama based on his sketches, but it turned out to be a long term project. Elizabeth had given birth to another child, John Jr., during Banvard's absence,156 and the growing size of his family coupled with Elizabeth's homesickness for America and her family, prompted Banvard to leave Paris, pack up his two Mississippi panoramas and the new Nile River and Holy Land panoramas, close down operations in London, and return to America. The Banvard's arrived home in the spring of 1852.157 97 FOOTNOTES 1"Mr. John Banvard," Banvard File, Watertown, (typewritten, [1925?] ). This anonymous article uses several journals, newspapers, and pamphlets as unattributed material. zLittell's Living Age, xv (December, 1847), 511. 3Ibid. 4Arrington, p. 208. 5Ibid. Niagara Falls, first painted by John Vanderlyn in 1808, became the most popular of all panorama subjects. 6Description, Putnam Edition, p. 9, gives a starting date of 1840, but this is probably an attempt once again to establish an earlier date than potential rival paneramists. Banvard was busy in St. Louis in late 1841, so 1842 is undoubtedly the correct date. 7Banvard MSS #6302. 8Description, Putnam Editon, pp. 9-10. 9Robinson, p. 2. 10Arrington, p. 212. 11Morris, author of the poem "Woodman, Spare That Tree," was the most popular American poet during the first half of the nineteenth century. E. Douglas Branch, The Sentimental Years: 1830-1860 (New York: Hill and Wang, 1962), p. 134. , 12Description, Putnam Editon, pp. 4-5. 13Holden's Dollar Magazine (New York), Banvard Scrapbook. 14Louisville Democrat, May 23, 1849. 15Scientific American, IV (December, 1848), 100. 16Morning Courier (Louisville), June 29, 1846. 17Description, Putnam Edition, p. 14. 98 18Description, Putnam Edition, p. 14. 19Louisville Democrat, June 29, 1846. 20Description, Putnam Edition, p. 14. ZlMorningCourier (Louisville), June 30, 1846. 22Robinson, p. 3. 23Mornipg Courier, June 29, 1846. 24Louisville Democrat, October 16, 1846. 25Arrington, p. 216. 26Ibid. 27Ibid. 28Dorothy Ann Dondore, "Banvard's Panorama and the Flowering of New England," New England Quarterly, XI (1938), 818, says the Panorama opendd_by December 15, and the earliest mention of the painting is in the December 15, 1846 edition of the Boston Journal. 29Boston Journal, January 1, 1847. 30John Tasker Howard, Our American Music (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1946), p. 153. The six pieces were: "Iowa Waltz," "Peytona Waltz," "Bayou Sara," "The Indian Dance," "The Crescent March," "The White Fawn." 31Robinson, p. 25. 32Edith Banvard Notes #4265, Banvard Family Papers. 33Geneology Folder, Banvard Family Papers. 34Letter, Edith Banvard to Lawrence K. Fox, May 8, 1941, South Dakota Memorial Art Center. 35Daniel Boorstin, The Americans: The National Experience (New York: Random House, 1965), p. 238. 36Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 37Arrington, p. 218. 99 38Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 39Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 40Home Journal, February 12, 1848, Banvard Scrapbook. 41McDermott, p. 22. 42Ludlow, p. 569. 43Arrington, p. 222. 44Newspaper clipping, n.d.,Banvard Scrapbook. 45Lynn Forum (Massachusetts), July 24, 1847, Banvard Scrapbook. 46Ibid. 47Boorstin, p. 238. 48"Mr. John Banvard," Watertown. 49Sara G. Bowerman, "John Banvard," Dictionary of American Biography, I, 583. 50"John Banvard," National Cyclopaedia of American Biography, V, 327. 51London Times, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. szlbid. 53Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 54Boorstin, p. 237. 55Boorstin, p. 239. 56Banvard corresponded with many prominent Americans and considered them his friends; however, few of these men mentioned Banvard in their memoirs. 57Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 58Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. These and subsequent attendance figures are Banvard's. 59Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 100 60Robinson, p. 4. 61Ibid. These quotes are from the Description, Putnam Edition. 62Ibid. 63Samuel Longfellow, Life gf_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, With Extracts From His Journals and Correspondence (Boston: Ticknor and Company, 1886), II, 67-68. 64Samuel Longfellow, II, 68. 65Dondore, p. 821. 66Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Lon fellow's Works (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1904), VIII, 425. 67Dondore, p. 822. 68Ibid. 69John Greenleaf Whittier, quoted in Dondore, p. 823. 70Henry David Thoreau, "Walking," Atlantic Monthly, IX (1862), 664-65. 71Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 72Arrington, pp. 220-21. 73Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 74New-York Times, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 75New York Mercury, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 76Boston Journal, June 8, 1848. 77Robinson, p. 6. 78New York Sun, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 79Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 80Arrington, p. 219. 101 81Arrington, p. 221. 82McDermott, pp. 47-67. 83Joseph Earl Arrington, "The Story of Stockwell's Panorama," Minnesota History, XXXIII (Autumn, 1953), 284-90. ' 84Bertha L. Heilbron, "Lewis' 'Mississippithal' in English," Minnesota History, XXXII (December, 1951), 202-13. 85John Francis McDermott, "Portrait of the Father of Waters: Leon Pomorede' s Panorama of the Mississippi," Bulletin of the Institut Francais of Washington, N. S. No. 2 (December, 1952), 46- 58. 86Arrington, "Banvard's Panorama," p. 219. 87McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 15. 88McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 16. 89John Banvard's Diary, August, 1848. 90Robinson, p. 4. 91McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 48. 9chDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 49. 93McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 48. 94Dairy, September 12, 1848. 95Paul Revere Frothingham, Edward Everett: Orator and Statesman (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1925), pp. ix-x. 96Dairy, September 12, 1848. 97Letter, Edward Everett to John Banvard, September 11, 1848, Banvard Family Papers. For some reason the letter was backdated one day. Sir Henry Holland (1788-1873), Physician Extra- ordinary to Queen Victoria, visited every capital of Europe, "most of them repeatedly. " Thomas Humphry Ward, ed., Men of the Reign: A Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Persons of British and Colonial Birth who have died during the Rei n —of Queen Victoriafi(London: George Routledge and Sons, 188ST_ pp. 436- 37. 102 Sir Roderic Impey Murchison was the foremost British scientist between 1800 and 1850. Four times President of the Geological Society and President for eleven years of the Royal Geographical Society, he received a knighthood in 1846 for his massive geological survey of Russia. Ward, pp. 652-54. 98Diary, 99Diary, 100Diary, 101Diary, 102Diary, 103Diary, 104Diary, 1051bid. 106Diary, September 12, 1848. September 27, 1848. October 2, 1848. October S, 1848. October 13, 1848. October 10, 1848. October 14, 1848. n.d.,[1848]. 107Robinson, p. 6. 108Banvard MSS #6302. 109London Observer, November 27, 1848, Banvard Scrapbook. 110 Illustrated London News, December 9, 1848. 111Ibid. 112The Golbourn Edition contains twenty-four pages. 113London Observer, November 27, 1848, Banvard Scrapbook. 114MorningAdvertiser (London), n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 115London Times, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 6Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 117Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 103 118London Sun, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 119Arrington, "Banvard's Panorama," p. 232. 120The White Fawn of the Mississippi, Music by Madame Schwieso Words—by John Banvard, Esq. (London: S.H. Webb, [1849]). 121Arrington, "Banvard's Panorama," p. 232- 122Diary, October, 1848. 123Letter, Charles Dickens to John Banvard, December 16, 1848, Banvard Family Papers. 124Charles Dickens, "Some Account of an Extraordinary Traveller," Household Words, 77. / 125 126Russel Blaine Nye, George Bancroft: Brahmin Rebel (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1945): p. 159. 127Ibid. Diary, n.d., [1848]. 128Banvard MSS #6302. 129Ibid. 130Ibid. 131Winslow Ames, Prince Albert and Victorian Taste (London: Chapman and Hall, 1967), p. 113. 132Diary, n.d.[18491]. 133Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 134Letter, Major General Bowes to John Banvard, April 16, 1849, Banvard Family Papers. 135Banvard MSS #6302. 136H. Southern, "The Centenary of the Panorama," Theatre Notebook, V (1950-1951), 69. 137McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 50. 138McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 47. 104 139"Mr. John Banvard," Watertown. 140McDermott, The Lost Panoramas, p. 47. 141 Newspaper clipping, n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 142Majorie Catlin Roehm, The Letters pf George Catlin and His Family: A Chronicle 9: the American West (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1966), p. 315. 143Sunday Times, n.d., in Banvard's Diary, [1850]° 144Arrington, "Banvard's Panorama," p. 229. 145Spectator (Manchester), n.d., Banvard Scrapbook. 146Boston Bee, May 1, 1849, Banvard Scrapbook. 147 Louisville Democrat, May 12, 1849. 148Oxford Chronicle, February 8, 1851, Banvard Scrapbook. 149Diary, May 1850. 15ODiary, n.d., [1850]. 151William A. Lilliendahl, "Memoranda of Matters relative to John Banvard and the New-York Museum Association," (holograph manuscript #3307), Manuscript Collections, New-York Historical Society, New York, New York. 152Affidavit, Hassan Ismael, Consulate of the United States of America, Beiruh [Beirut], April 16, 1851, Banvard Family Papers. 153Robinson, pp. 6-7. 154Affidavit, Hussan Ismael. 155"Mr. John Banvard," Watertown. 156Geneological Folder, Banvard Family Papers. 157Diary, [1852?]. 105 Figure 10. John Banvard, c. 1860. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society.) 106 Figure 10. CHAPTER III SUCCESSES AND FAILURES: 1852-1891 After their arrival in America, John Banvard and his family settled in Cold Spring Harbor, Long Island. The artist purchased "sixty acres of shore front, woods, and upland meadows" and picked for his home site "a gentle rise of land affording a fine view of the harbor."1 Over the next three years, Banvard erected a "story-book castle," based on ones he had seen in Europe, adapted for family living.2 One entire year was spent in "landscaping, furnishing, and adornment."3 The immense home aroused the curiousity of Long Islanders and "people came from near and far, commented, admired, criticized; a 'furrin,' fantastic, fairytale castle in a plain Long Island setting."4 Because of the fortune spent on its construction, the home was called "Banvard's Folly" by the artist's neighbors, but Banvard named it Glenada, after his newly-born daughter Ada and the wooded lot behind the castle.5 107 108 Figure 11. "Glenada." A sketch of the Banvard residence by John Banvard. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society. 109