A Little (very little) Jocular American Humor

Humor is as old as mankind itself.  It is likely that cave dwellers, while hunting for food, would play a prank on the youngest member by somehow getting him to step in or apply animal manure to his body in some fashion that would get a chortle out of the others.  There had to be comments about women’s breast and men’s schlongs since very little clothing tended to cover their unmentionables.

As a history buff much of what I’ve learned is that people of all time periods had a sense of humor that even today can give rise to a grin or even outright laughter.  Much of what we read in high school and even college was often historical  accounts of events that many today have a hard time connecting to.  But humor!  That’s something we can relate to

I am currently reading Richard Beeman’s “Plain, Honest Men: The Making of the American Constitution”.  And though it too mostly covers the events back in 1787 that led up to, during and after the Constitution that we now know today was written, Beeman does a great job of weaving real life narratives about more personal and intimate details of the not only the men who achieved this amazing feat but some of the local citizens in Philadelphia and its environs.

Here are but a few excerpts in the early passages of the book that I found humorous and telling about a people who I have often come to view as haughty and dry witted, with the exception of people like Ben Franklin of course.

In one tale Beeman recounts a story by one of the Pennsylvania delegates, Gouverneur Morris, who lost a leg after it was caught in a carriage wheel at the age of 28.  After strapping a “simple oak peg to the stump of his leg”, he continued his life much like he had before.  A big part of his life until he married late was his sexual associations with the ladies.

Gouverneur Morris and companion wooden leg

According to Beeman’s account of Morris, “he developed a reputation extending to both sides of the Atlantic as a consummate philanderer.  Not allowing his peg leg to interfere with his amorous inclinations, he was a fixture at nearly all of the important events of Philadelphia high society, working his charms on married and single women alike.

Morris’ romantic adventures were so extensive that his friend and mentor, John Jay, was led to comment that though the loss of his leg was a ‘tax on my heart’, Jay was on occasion ‘tempted to wish that he had lost something else.’”

Then there was the story of a slow news day as James Madison, arriving early for the Continental Convention, awaited the arrival of other fellow delegates.  Eager to reform the Articles of Confederation, Madison arrived 11 days before the convention was scheduled to meet on May 14th.  To his disappointment only a few delegates showed up on the appointed day, not nearly enough for a quorum.

“The only interesting thing that happened in Philadelphia that May 14th as reported in the Pennsylvania Herald, occurred about a block from the Pennsylvania State House” Beeman reports in his book.  “‘ ‘A young cox-comb (dapper man) who had made too free with the bottle’ staggered up to a young ‘lady of delicate dress and shape,’ took hold of her hand, and, peeping under the large hat covering her face, exclaimed that he ‘did not like her so well before as behind, but notwithstanding he would be glad of the favour of a kiss.’ The young woman, unperturbed, cooly replied, “With all my heart, Sir,  if you will do me the favour to kiss the part you like best.’”