Punchinello, Volume 1, No. 19, August 6, 1870

In Short

Published on August 6, 1870, by the Punchinello Publishing Company in New York, this nineteenth-century weekly comic magazine captures the chaotic spirit of American popular culture during the Reconstruction era. Designed to lampoon contemporary politics, literature, and social customs, the issue weaves together spoofed serial novels, mock imperial proclamations, satirical poetry, answers to readers, and slapstick rural anecdotes. Enduring as a vivid time capsule, it offers a rare, unfiltered look into the humor, anxieties, and daily diversions of Gilded Age city dwellers and small-town readers alike.

The Story

The issue opens framed by commercial life—advertising steel pens, patent binders, and art prints—before plunging directly into its flagship serial fiction. "The Mystery of Mr. E. Drood," a parody written by Orpheus C. Kerr, follows the bumbling pair of Mr. Bumstead and Old Morarity (John McLaughlin) as they stumble through a moonlit pauper burial-ground in Bumsteadville. Clutching an umbrella and regularly swigging from an antique flask of spirits, Bumstead lectures his companion on the pseudoscientific "Atomic Theory" of the late Dr. Davis Slavonski. After confusing a hog’s skull with human remains and mistaking their own rear-facing lanterns for terrifying supernatural phantoms, the two men drop to the ground, terrified of imaginary serpents and black monkeys, before crawling off into the dark.

From the eerie graveyard, the publication pivots to the urban front, delivering bite-sized wit in its "Answers to Correspondents." Here, the persona of Mr. Punchinello dispenses absurd advice to readers, warning "Sorosis" not to cause a public scandal over muddy coffee, assuring "Charles" that bad handwriting is no barrier to playing baseball, and suggesting "Cit" charter a canal boat to carry a oversized Saratoga pocketbook.

The mood shifts from civic satire to international politics in a biting mock proclamation by Napoleon III. Preparing his soldiers for the Franco-Prussian War under the banner of "la gloire et des grenouilles" (glory and fried potatoes), the Emperor hypocritically invokes his peaceful uncle while leading his troops into slaughter. This dark political cynicism continues in "The Vulture's Call," a grim poem where scavengers cheer the brutal, profitable game of human war.

Lighthearted social commentary returns in "Punchinello's Vacations." Visiting high-society Newport, Mr. Punchinello rubs shoulders with elites, mockingly crafts a 350-part riddle identifying Congress as a "useless expense," and stages a ridiculous sea rescue involving the famed Ida Lewis at Lime Rock Rocks, plugging his leaking boat with discarded subscriber manuscripts.

In the back half, small-town life gets its turn in "Hiram Green’s Experience as an Editor." Hiram, a former Justice of the Peace, takes over the Skeensboro Fish Horn and prints aggressive, unnamed gossip about local hoarders and slanderers. The community retaliates instantly, resulting in Hiram getting kicked down the stairs thirty-two times in a single afternoon before returning home bruised to his scolding wife. Following a tale of matrimonial mercenary logic by "Lot," the issue closes with "Chincapen's" disastrous ocean excursion, where drunk tourists catch ugly sea robins and return home hopelessly seasick, leaving the reader with a full spectrum of 1870 American satire.

How It Unfolds

A graveyard excursion Mr. Bumstead and John McLaughlin stumble through the Bumsteadville cemetery under the influence of liquid spirits, debating atomic theory while terrifying themselves over their own lantern lights.

Advice for the public The editor responds to mock letters from suburban and urban readers, offering ridiculous guidance on baseball, high fashion, romance, and political ambitions.

Empires and vultures The magazine turns its satirical lens to international conflict, mocking Emperor Napoleon III's war rhetoric alongside a grim poem celebrating the financial and literal vultures of battle.

High society at Newport Mr. Punchinello travels to an elite resort town, pokes fun at Congress in front of children, and attempts to get rescued from a sinking boat by the famous heroine Ida Lewis.

The hazards of journalism Hiram Green takes over a rural newspaper, publishes hyper-specific local gossip without names, and endures a relentless barrage of physical beatings from offended townspeople.

A nautical misadventure A group of rowdy excursionists takes to the water, consumes far too much alcohol, catches inedible sea creatures, and suffers severe seasickness before paying an exorbitant bill.

The People

• Mr. Bumstead: A Ritualistic organist who wanders into cemeteries at night. Armed with a flask and an umbrella, he lectures companions on absurd scientific theories while succumbing to extreme drunkenness and paranoia.
• John McLaughlin (Old Morarity): Bumstead's reluctant expedition companion. He views his friend's spiritualism with skepticism and dry humor, though he quickly falls victim to the same alcohol-induced delusions.
• Mr. Punchinello: The fictional editorial mascot and narrator. urbane, sharp-witted, and self-important, he floats between elite Newport gatherings and editorial desks, dispensing cynical commentary on politics and society.
• Napoleon III: Parodied as a foolish, grandiloquent monarch who rallies his troops to invade Prussia for territory while spouting hollow slogans about peace, glory, and fried potatoes.
• Hiram Green: A former Justice of the Peace turned novice newspaper editor. Overly confident in his literary talents, his lack of editorial discretion gets him violently thrown down the sanctum stairs thirty-two times.
• Mrs. Green: Hiram's pragmatic, unsympathetic wife. She tends to her husband’s bruised body with camphor while bluntly pointing out that his generalized editorial insults were bound to offend everyone in town.
• John Smith (Augustus Vavasour): A mercenary suitor who changes his last name by court order solely to bypass the aristocratic pride of a wealthy woman and claim her $100,000 fortune.

In Its Own Voice

"Ask any resident of Bumsteadville if he believed in ghosts, and, if the time were mid-day and the place a crowded grocery store, he would fearlessly answer in the negative; (just the same as a Positive philosopher in cast-iron health and with no thunder shower approaching would undauntedly deny a Deity!)"

— The narrator mocks the fragile skepticism of small-town residents passing the local pauper graveyard after dark.

"We would advise a sertin toothles old made to leave off paintin' her cheeks, and stop slanderin' her nabors. If she does so, she will be a more interestin' femail to have around."

— Hiram Green prints reckless local gossip in his first issue of the Skeensboro Fish Horn.

"A shoe which hain't bilt for anybody in particular, will get onto evrybody in general's foot. When it does, the bilder had better get ready for numerous bootin's, from that self-same shoe."

— Mrs. Green scolds her heavily bruised husband after he returns home from his disastrous editorial venture.

What It's Really About

Beneath its puns, slapstick violence, and theatrical parodies, this issue captures a post-Civil War society wrestling with rapid modernization, political corruption, and social vanity. The texts repeatedly target hypocrisies across class divides: high-society elites in Newport pretend to hold elevated moral discourse while living in idle luxury; politicians spend vast sums of taxpayer money to achieve nothing; and military leaders cloak imperial greed in noble patriotic slogans. Furthermore, the issue satirizes the rise of sensationalist print media. Through the misadventures of Hiram Green and the wild parodies of Charles Dickens, the magazine mocks the public's appetite for gossip, quick wealth, and dramatic literature, revealing a culture obsessed with status, money, and self-importance.

Why Read It Today

This issue of Punchinello offers an authentic, unvarnished window into nineteenth-century American humor. Readers who enjoy literary history, political satire, or cultural artifacts will appreciate its brisk pacing and sharp, historical observational wit. Reading it feels like flipping through a broadside in a bustling 1870 New York coffeehouse, surrounded by the sights, sounds, and anxieties of the era.

The text does present notable reading challenges. Modern readers must navigate heavy phonetic eye-dialect ("femail," "noosepaper," "lait gustise"), dense period-specific political references to the Franco-Prussian War, and forgotten regional slang. Additionally, the casual era-typical humor regarding gender stereotypes, social classes, and ethnic tropes reflects historical attitudes that require a contextual lens. However, for those willing to decipher the puns and phonetic spellings, the issue rewards patience with genuine visual slapstick and a fascinating look at how earlier generations used comedy to process political stress and social change.