The Complete Works of Artemus Ward

In Short

This collection of short stories and romances serves as a brilliant parody of the flowery, moralizing fiction that dominated American popular magazines in the 1860s. The author adopts various literary affectations—French romance, heroic tragedy, and patriotic sentimentality—only to undercut them with absurd plot twists, colloquial language, and dry, irreverent commentary. It remains a foundational text in the tradition of American humor, demonstrating how the mockery of pretentious storytelling can reveal deeper truths about the culture that produces such narratives.

The Story

The collection unfolds as a series of disconnected, high-stakes dramas that consistently collapse under the weight of their own ridiculousness. In "Moses the Sassy," we are introduced to a "noble youth" in Boston who discovers he is actually a "Disguised Juke," leading to a bizarre maritime confrontation where his enemies are dispatched by a diamond-hilted fish-knife. The narrative logic is secondary to the spectacle of the characters' inflated self-importance. In "Marion: A Romance of the French School," a self-proclaimed "moral Frenchman" pines for a woman married to a "greasy Marquis." The narrator’s ethereal, romantic longing is abruptly shattered when the Marquis physically kicks him out of the garden, forcing the narrator to flee and wallow in melodramatic misery.

The theme of the "young patriot" takes a cynical turn in the story of William Barker, who secures his sweetheart's hand not through noble deeds, but by admitting he profited immensely from supplying the Army with meat made from "disabled cavalry horses." In "The Conscript," a man named Philander Reed faces the draft, displays extreme cowardice by fleeing to Canada, and ultimately hangs himself with his own yard-stick when his girlfriend suggests he enlist. The story concludes with the casual observation that his girlfriend simply married a Brigadier-General and lived happily ever after.

In "Only a Mechanic," the class-conscious snobbery of a Fifth Avenue belle is met with a harsh, comedic karmic retribution. After she spurns a suitor for being a cooper, her entire family spirals into crime, insanity, and disgrace, while the narrator dryly concludes that it is "always best to marry a mechanic." "Roberto the Rover" features a king who drinks champagne from a bucket and a rover who murders royalty only to find that remorse and indigestion require him to purchase patent medicines. Finally, "A Mormon Romance" recounts the death of Reginald Gloverson, a man with twenty wives. His death is less a tragedy than a logistical inconvenience; his mother is obsessed only with finding the missing mules, and his widows quickly marry another man, expanding his harem to a new, even more ridiculous scale. The collection concludes not with grand resolutions, but with the sense that life is a series of mundane absurdities dressed up in the language of high drama.

How It Unfolds

The classic setup The stories frequently begin by establishing an atmosphere of extreme luxury or profound sorrow, using flowery, descriptive language that mimics the popular novels of the day. The characters appear, often framed by their social status, and are immediately thrust into a situation that promises high drama.

The sudden pivot Each story quickly takes a sharp turn into the absurd, where a character's "noble" interior life is contrasted against a petty, materialistic, or grotesque reality. The dialogue shifts from poetic declarations to coarse, slang-heavy assertions, revealing the internal rot of the characters' lofty pretensions.

The chaotic climax The tension of each story is resolved through a jarring, often violent, or slapstick event that serves no narrative purpose other than to end the scene abruptly. Whether it is a beheading via fish-knife or a sudden suicide by yard-stick, the violence is presented with a detachment that mocks the seriousness of the preceding melodrama.

The moral afterthought Each piece concludes with a brief, cynical summary or a satirical observation that attempts to tie the preceding nonsense into a "lesson." These endings highlight the absurdity of the moralizing literature of the time, suggesting that life rarely rewards the virtuous or punishes the wicked in the way that popular novels claim.

The People

The characters are archetypes of mid-nineteenth-century literature, stripped of their dignity and exposed as caricatures. Moses the Sassy is the quintessential "hero" whose sudden elevation to nobility serves only to highlight his underlying vulgarity. Philander Reed represents the cowardly, self-interested individual who hides behind patriotic buzzwords, eventually meeting a pathetic end that underscores his total lack of character. William Barker is a sharp satire of the war profiteer; he is entirely transactional, viewing both his country and his future father-in-law as assets to be exploited. The Marquis in the French romance is the "base" antagonist, defined entirely by his lack of taste and his practical, unimaginative nature, which ironically makes him the only character with any sense of reality. Finally, Reginald Gloverson’s twenty wives function as a collective entity, a chorus of domestic chaos who demonstrate that even in the most exaggerated settings, human vanity and petty rivalry remain constant. They seek only to fill the void left by their husband, whether by strewing flowers or, more pragmatically, by finding a new provider.

In Its Own Voice

"The son is settin in its horizon, and its gorjus light pores in a golden meller flud through the winders, and makes the young lady twict as beautiful nor what she was before, which is onnecessary."

The narrator sets the scene for a romantic encounter by using excessive, flowery prose that he himself immediately dismisses as "onnecessary."

"My motto was en avant! That is a French word. I got it out of the back part of Worcester's Dictionary."

The narrator in the French romance reveals the depth of his pseudo-intellectualism by citing a dictionary as his source for "soulful" inspiration.

"If he does," said old Mr. Pettingill, "we must shoot him and bile him, and eat him, because we shall be rather short of meat, my son, if you go on in this lazy way."

A father provides a pragmatic, blunt retort to his son's grandiose, unrealistic dreams of manufacturing fireworks.

What It's Really About

This book is a sustained argument against the insincerity of the sentimental literature and political rhetoric of the American Civil War era. It targets the way people used high-minded language—about patriotism, duty, and nobility—to mask base motives like greed, cowardice, and social climbing. The recurring theme is the gap between the "romance" of life and its gritty, often hilarious reality. The author asks how a society can sustain such lofty ideals while its daily reality is so remarkably unrefined. Through his lampooning of everything from the Constitution to the "French school" of writing, he suggests that modern life is far less "heroic" than we like to pretend.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the biting satire of Mark Twain or the absurdism of early twentieth-century humor will find a kindred spirit here. The book is an essential look at the "vernacular" style that began to reshape American literature, prioritizing the rhythm of spoken language over the rigid rules of academic writing.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the specific challenges of the text. The humor is deeply rooted in the political and cultural anxieties of the 1860s; many of the punchlines rely on a familiarity with forgotten newspapers, defunct musical trends, and period-specific slang that may require some patience to parse. Furthermore, the stories reflect the attitudes of the time, including period-typical prejudices and a casual, mocking tone toward cultural minorities that can be jarring.

Despite these hurdles, the reading experience is one of constant, surprising energy. The author’s voice is remarkably confident, moving quickly between manic action and dry, ironic observation. It feels like a precursor to the modern stand-up routine—irreverent, self-aware, and determined to cut through the pomposity of its age. What stays with you is the author's refusal to take anything, including his own craft, seriously, providing a liberating, if chaotic, window into the American psyche.