A wonderful and unrecorded broadside advertisement for a quintessential (though obscure) American ritual that traces its origins to the early national period and to a robust American appetite for irreverent humor.
“Horribles Parades,” so named because they began as parodies of the ceremonies of the iconic Ancient and Honorable (or “Horrible”) Artillery, originated in the early decades of the 19th century as an irreverent counterpart to official celebrations of the Fourth of July. They spread rapidly, and though at first spontaneous and informal, they became more organized, probably to prevent the main event from being overtaken by revelers.
Along the way these parades gave rise to a remarkable genre of promotional broadsides, presumably issued in advance of the events in question. I have over the years owned perhaps six or seven, from places as far afield as Greenfield and Newton, Massachusetts; Troy, New York; and Buena Vista, California. Aside from their great rarity and documentary value, they stand out for their inventiveness, their embrace of absurdity, and their appealing blend of varied typography, and on occasion bold patriotic imagery.
Offered here is a quintessential example, promoting a parade to take place in Worcester, Massachusetts on July 4, 1860. The subtitle, “1st year of the reign of terror in Worcester under King Windy Wordy” is I assume a reference to William W. Rice (1826-1896), who served as Mayor of the city from 1860-61 and later served several terms in the U.S. House of Representatives. From there it’s all downhill: The text is packed with all the silliness, grotesquerie, word-play, and satire that epitomized this special ritual. For example, the program was to begin as follows:
“The morning of the glorious day will be ushered in by a spontaneous explosion of fourteen barrels of Ale, which have been trained for the occasion, and furnished through the immense liberality of County Braman, from the secret hole under the east end of the Royal Town House. The barrels will be conveyed to the Grounds during the preceding night by the man who returns the “seized beverage,” selected. The above salute it is expected will wake up the City and surrounding outsquirts.”
This was to be followed by a procession through town; music and songs; and at least one speech. The “First Division” of the procession was to be led by “Chief Marshall—Butter Draper, mounted on the smoke stack of the big Steam Squirt. The speech, by an unnamed orator, was “written on birchbark” and replete with digs at the new mayor (“Billy”), who seems to have been overfond of female companionship: “After the Speech the small crowd will separate in confusion, just as they came, except Billy will vary the exercises by exercising with a female friend from Grafton, in a rural retreat in Paine’s Woods, near by.”
The broadside appears to be unrecorded, with no holdings listed in OCLC and Rare Book Hub listing no examples on the antiquarian market. The American Antiquarian Society holds a rather similar broadside issued in advance of the 1857 celebration.
Horribles Parades seem to have died out for a time in the late 19th century, only to be revived when a Fourth of July “Ancient and Horribles Parade” came to life again in 1927 in the little village of Chepachet, in the town of Glocester, Rhode Island. The practice spread rapidly and is today very much alive and well in New England, though the antics can far exceed anything remotely imaginable in the 19th century (If you have a few moments to spare, try searching YouTube for “Horribles Parade” and “Salem” or “Beverly Farms.”) I have yet to find a systematic study of the subject, but this ritual deserves attention for its place in the history of grass roots American culture.
References
Not in OCLC. Some time ago the late Robert Rubin of Robert H. Rubin Books (Brookline, Mass.) offered a broadside from Newton, Massachusetts’ 1865 Horribles Parade. His description of the “Horribles” tradition was superb, so some years ago with his permission I borrowed large sections of it verbatim, or nearly so.