For early Swedish satirical press one should apparently look to Grönköpings Veckoblad, but so far as I can tell, there is no historical digital archive available. Rather by accident I’ve finally run across another potential Swedish contribution to this collection. Fäderneslandet (Fatherland) was a Stockholm newspaper in operation since 1830, achieving a rather large circulation by the 1870s. Sporting the subheading “Freedom Work Justice,” it apparently fostered a politically radical stance, but more often functioned as a scandalous broadsheet. In any event, they occasionally published cartoons, including this one from during the cholera pandemic of 1892, accompanied by rhymed couplets in the original.
Attention! This newspaper is reporting: “The Traveling Kaiser is not coming.” Because of cholera? Yes, it’s a given, he cannot defy it – no. But, alas, organizers of festivities, Officers and gentlemen who bear the sword! Yes, major patrons and merchants, it’s a blow to the bill of goods. That Kaiser Wilhelm would visit us, it was just said in all the squares. And we wanted to hold a feast for him in our proud Gothenburg. We intended to light things up and put on the fireworks. “He will decorate us for this with ribbons and medals,” we thought. But these were golden illusions they evaporated away for this time. Yes, now by forests [of newspapers?] and millions [of kroner?] our nose has become terribly long. Whose fault it is, we all know, it is cholera, at the knees of the gods! Oh, may it go to Gehenna and be put there in quarantine!
At the factory clinic. “I can’t get treatment from the doctor; he’ll tell me, “Take a deep breath,” and if I exhale, he’ll catch it all.” (Krokodil, Moscow, 1939)
(The Vigszinház or Comedy Theater was generally the most popular in Budapest.) The pitchfork at the city outskirts — Even chorela doesn’t come in! (The orthography signals something other than high diction. Note the phonetic metathesis of “cholera.” Contemporaries would have understood the reference to a folksong lamenting that cholera didn’t affect lords or priests, only the poor peasants.) (Borsszem Jankó, Budapest, 1900)
“Pardner, did you hear that there is chorela [cholera] among the people of Újpest? Even real chorela!” “Surely it would be better if their money was real and their chorela fake.” (Újpest, or New Pest, was a recently-incorporated town on the north side of Budapest proper, and a higher proportion of its residents were Jewish, though not from the bourgeois elite.) (Kakas Márton, Budapest, 1911)
Cholera at the French-Spanish border, to Spanish prime minister Antonio Cánovas del Castillo: “Ah! Are you the boss? Well, I’ll head back. I’m not needed in Spain.”
In January Andalusian anarchist workers associations had tried to take control of Jerez de la Frontera, an action that was violently suppressed by the government. The following month four anarchist workers were executed, but not before a small bomb was set off in the Plaza Real in Barcelona. Just weeks before this image was published, greengrocers in Madrid launched a “mutiny,” a popular revolt in the face of new municipal taxes. The Conservative Cánovas, then serving his fifth turn as prime minister, strongly resisted expanding suffrage to the working class. (See a previous issue for another excellent image; El Motin was unsurprisingly deeply hostile to monarchist politicians.) He also pursued a hard line against Cuban independence. He was eventually assassinated by an Italian anarchist in 1897.
The machinists are going to drive me crazy – those pirates of capitalism! – some of the colleagues – those government pirates! – the engineers – those pirates of irrigation! – and even mosquitoes – those pirates of summer! (Caras y Caretas, Buenos Aires, 1912) (A comical variant of Fitzcarraldo, you might say.)
With the assistance of a bicycle during the influenza Doctor X managed the 112 visits that he had to make daily to his patients. (Kikeriki, Vienna, 1890)
Juan Martinez Villergas launched the Spanish satirical magazine El Tío Camorra (Uncle Trouble) in September 1847, and this plate is featured on the front cover of all the early issues of this short-lived venture, which was closed in July 1848. I lack the expertise to comment on his agendas, but I was struck by the opening passage from the 26 January 1848 issue, several weeks before the revolutionary disturbances that broke out elsewhere in Europe.
“Uncle Trouble has not wanted to catch the flu until now, and has had more than one reason for it. The first and foremost of all is that Uncle Trouble has a great commitment contracted with the Spanish public, and he does not want his beatings to suffer interruption [see image], I do not say for something so mean and petty as having the flu, but for all typhus and cholera around the world. So, then, although the prevailing disease has penetrated the home of the citizen of Torrelodones [i.e., JMV’s alter ego] and resolutely attacked Don Juan de la Pilindrica [his worldly mentor] and the Parrot [another prop in his dialogues], and for other instances that the flu has undertaken to meet with Uncle Trouble, this one has categorically refused to receive it, as he is willing to reject any epidemics that arise while the yokel [meaning Uncle Trouble] pursues the noble and holy mission of enlightening the people and unmasking the public villains. And in order for the flu to desist from its reckless endeavor, it was necessary to reach a compromise in the most prudent way possible, which consisted of the yokel signing a promissory note to the flu, contracting a debt that will be paid within eight days after the publication is completed. When Uncle Trouble stops writing, there will be no problem for anyone to get the flu; but meanwhile he says that it does not suit him and he will not get it. Having said that, as Uncle Trouble has the courage to not stop publishing as long as he has subscribers, and these are increasing from day to day, it turns out that the flu will no longer exist when he wants to come to collect the bill, and Uncle Trouble will get away with not getting a plague that even in name [“la grippe”] reveals his French condition.
Another reason that Uncle Trouble has had for ignoring the flu is that the Torrelodones yokel is not very fond of following fashions, and because the trans-Pyrenean disease can be considered in the day as a bad fashion that the elegant types have used to put on airs, the employees not to go to the office, the deputies not to play a sad role in Congress, etc., it would be even embarrassing for Uncle Trouble to stop giving a single beating for paying homage to a fashion as childish and ridiculous as the flu. But although Uncle Trouble has not had the flu, he is so little fond of getting up early that (at least in the cold season) rare is the day that he does not hear the twelve chimes of the clock in bed, time in which the other inhabitants of Torrelodones hurry to empty the cooking pot. For this reason, he usually receives some trustworthy visitors in the bedroom, and nothing is easier than to catch him at home during the time when the ruddy Phoebus walks halfway over our horizon.” (El Tio Camorra, Madrid, 1848)
“The Petit Journal reports the appearance of a new vine disease called black rot, which is ravaging the department of Herault.” “Brave year. The cholera took my wife and my mother-in-law, and now the black rot threatens to rob me of the only affection that remained.” (La Caricatura, Madrid, 1885)
(After only schools and not government offices were closed for the sake of influenza.) “O blessed, o blessed to be a child still!” (Kikeriki, Vienna, 1890)
“I have a chronic illness that should be included in the exemption chart.” “Chronic?” “Yes, sir, chronic.” “And what?” “Cholera morbo-asiatico.” (Another Mecachis cartoon from La Caricatura, Madrid, 1885)
Some out of habit others because of the cholera some on a whim and most for fashion, everyone is going to bathe in the blue waves. Only I who do not have not a single quarter of an hour, I stay here by force because they hang by force. Stay here…? I’m already crying…! Why? For one thing ……………………. I’m afraid to be alone with the microbe (La Caricatura, Madrid, 1885) (Sadly I cannot say anything about Nao Ping. This one is rich with possibility.)