| Florence Kate Upton |
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| CATEGORIES ABOUT FLORENCE KATE UPTON | |
| 1873 births | |
| upton, florence kate | |
| 1922 deaths | |
| american cartoonists | |
| american childrens writers | |
| american women writers | |
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Florence Kate Upton was born on 22 February 1873 in Flushing, New York of recently emigrated British parents. She was the second of four children in a creative and slightly eccentric household. Florence’s father, Thomas Harborough Upton, worked as a confidential clerk at the American Exchange Bank in New York. In 1884 the family moved from Flushing to central Manhattan, which was more convenient for Father’s daily journey to his office. The National Academy of Design, located near the new home, offered free instruction to anyone who could qualify. This prompted Father to enrol in evening classes and Florence, at 15 years old, joined him for the beginning of her formal art training. In June 1889 the contented family was thrust into enormous financial difficulty through the sudden death of Florence’s father, at the comparatively early age of 51. This meant the end of a steady income on which to depend. However, Florence’s resourceful mother, Bertha, had a trained singing voice and began to give voice lessons in the home. Older sister Ethelwyn found work, while younger siblings Alice and Desmond remained in school. A determined Florence, only 16, began to obtain work as a professional illustrator. Numerous publications existed at this time, mainly as vehicles for advertising and light fiction of varying merit. There was a brisk market for dependable illustrators who could produce artwork to order, against extremely tight deadlines. Florence’s illustrations were perhaps unexciting, but entirely typical of the period. Her early efforts were certainly as accomplished as those of other popular illustrators. Some of the same authors whose stories appeared in the magazines went on to employ Florence to illustrate their novels or books of short stories. All of this was essentially hack work, but at least it paid the bills. Finances eventually stabilised to such a degree that in 1893 the family was able to pay an extended visit to Bertha’s relatives, the Hudsons, who lived in the Hampstead area of London. With an established reputation from her published work in New York, Florence had no difficulty in finding employment with London publishers. When the rest of the family returned to the United States, Florence opted to stay in England and began experimenting with ideas to supplement her income so that she could afford further art training. She began to sketch out ideas for a children’s book, using ‘penny wooden’ dolls as her models. However, without a central character on which to hang the tale, progress came to a standstill. Aunt Kate Hudson had a rummage in the attic and unearthed an old toy that had belonged to the Upton children, left behind from an earlier visit. This battered but much-loved rag doll, dressed like a Dickensian gentleman, whispered his name in Florence’s ear. ‘As the Golliwogg has always seemed to me to be telling me his own biography, so in the same way he must have told me his own name….I picked him up from the table in my studio, and without intention of naming him, without the idea of a name passing through my mind, I called him “Golliwogg”.’ The serendipitous appearance of the Golliwogg provided the necessary inspiration, and with Bertha’s verses completing the equation, the first story was produced in 1894. The publishing house of Longmans, Green & Co. offered Florence a contract, and the life-changing saga began when ''The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a Golliwogg'' was published for Christmas 1895. During her stay in London Florence provided illustrations for The Strand , The Idler and Punch Magazine . The American Society in London also commissioned a series of drawings and cartoons to decorate the souvenir programme of their November 1896 Thanksgiving Banquet. After three years of successful hard work, she returned to New York to attend the Art Students League, then continued studies in Paris and Holland. Returning to London in 1906 to take up permanent residence, she moved to 21 Great College Street in 1910 where she spent the final 12 years of her life. Through the years Florence and Bertha collaborated on a total of thirteen Golliwogg adventures. Some critics condemned them as ugly and silly, but it is for these very reasons that children loved them. Until this time, children’s books, with very few exceptions, were highly moral with little in the way of real fun or adventure. Within these stories, immaculately clean boys and girls were inevitably admonished to respect their elders, behave properly and protect their good characters. If this dull formula was followed, reception in heaven was virtually guaranteed. It is no wonder that Edward Lear’s nonsense verses were so enthusiastically embraced by the nursery set! Indeed, the Golliwogg books have a refreshing lack of heavy-handed morality. However, Golly himself is a commendable role model. Polite, well-spoken, honest, creative, loyal, chivalrous, energetic, sensitive, enthusiastic, affectionate, hard-working, he is respected and loved by his friends. In his autobiography, Sir Kenneth Clark remarked of the Golliwogg, ‘He was for me an example of chivalry, far more persuasive than the unconvincing Knights of the Arthurian legend. I identified myself with him completely, and have never quite ceased to do so.’ Nonetheless, Golly had his detractors. In a letter to American friends, Florence wrote: ‘To be sure, I had two or three beastly reviews this last time – one said ‘Golliwogg had golliwogged too long’, and another says something quite positively disagreeable, while a third says that I know my public, but for the life of him he cannot understand why it is that ‘anything so hideous should please and even fascinate children. …the Golliwogg is ugly but he has a good heart, and he is a dear fellow, and are not children way ahead of adults in reading character? They see his beautiful personality. What are looks to them?’ But the children who first embraced Golly inevitably grew up. Fashions and fads changed, and Florence herself was yearning to pursue her career as a serious, professionally trained artist. The last of the Golliwogg books was published in 1909 and Bertha’s death in 1912 truly brought the adventures to a close. Florence continued to study and paint, concentrating mainly on portraits. She exhibited at the Royal Academy and other prominent venues and rapidly established a reputation as an accomplished society portraitist. Additionally, she received hundreds of commissions from the families of young soldiers. Deeply sympathetic, she often chose to accept no fee, especially in cases where posthumous portraits were carried out using only photographs and personal belongings of the unfortunate young men. Frustrated by delicate health, Florence was found unfit to serve in any physical capacity during the First World War. However, she satisfied her determination to help out by donating her original dolls and drawings to a fund-raising auction for the Red Cross, conducted by Christies in 1917. To her horror, the dolls and hundreds of drawings were catalogued to be sold as one lot. Despite her misgivings that it would never sell, the lot was indeed purchased for a considerable amount. The money realised from the sale of her drawings purchased an ambulance, aptly christened ‘Golliwogg’, which went to the front and served in France. It is sobering to consider that some soldiers must have owed their lives to their hero from a not-so-distant childhood. At the age of only 49, Florence Upton died in her studio on 16 October 1922, from complications following surgery. She is buried in West Hampstead Cemetery. For many years her vandalised grave was unidentifiable, with the headstone toppled face-down in the grass. The stone has now been set upright, courtesy of a Heritage Lottery grant, and awaits restoration. The original Golliwogg and Dutch Dolls resided for many years at Chequers, the Prime Minister’s country estate in Berkshire. They now receive visitors at the Museum of Childhood at Bethnal Green, London. It is difficult nowadays to appreciate the enormous impact that the Golliwogg had at the height of his career. Florence Upton’s friend and biographer, Edith Lyttelton recollected, ‘One of my children, long before we knew who Bertha and Florence Upton were, had a passionate attachment to the doll stories, and a new Golliwogg book was a great excitement in my nursery as in countless others.’ Children and parents alike were frantic to learn of the Golliwogg’s latest escapade with the same sort of feverish passion that a new Harry Potter book inspires in modern readers. Unfortunately, Florence neglected to patent the character and consequently lost a considerable amount in royalties. Recognising a large and profitable market, many toy companies took advantage of the popularity of the books and started to manufacture the doll, while other writers and illustrators took equal advantage, but in doing so changed the very soul of the Uptons’ creation. The prolific Enid Blyton chose to depict her golliwogs as rude, stupid and untrustworthy little gremlins and other authors took a similar tack. Nasty-minded people seized upon the name as a degrading term for anyone who wasn’t white-skinned, blithely inventing convoluted explanations of the origin of the word. Florence Upton despaired, ‘I am frightened when I read the fearsome etymology some deep, dark minds can see in his name.’ It was Florence herself who came up with the innocent moniker, very probably unconsciously based on what American children call tadpoles – the pollywog. Despite the negative connotations that have arisen over the years, everyone who has owned a golliwog expresses nothing but affection for the toy. For many, he eclipsed even the teddy bear as a chosen companion. EXTERNAL LINKS |
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