"Children's Poet" Created Greatest Literary Hoax

By: Lindsey Williams
Submitted: 2007-01-17 16:43:26
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James Whitcomb Riley was the first – and greatest – American poet to write of contemporary life in sentimental/humorous dialect. He got his start with a literary hoax unsurpassed in creative audacity.

He was successively known as the “Children’s Poet,” “Hoosier Poet” and “Nation’s Poet.”

You may know him by a famous line oft repeated by politicians nowadays: “When I see a bird that walks like a duck, and swims like and duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.”

The Indiana Historical Society is justly proud of their native son.

He was born in 1849 in a log cabin at Greenfield, Ind. He was the second son and third of six children reared by Reuben Riley, a Civil War veteran and lawyer, and Elizabeth (Marine) Riley.

At an early age, Riley discovered that he disliked the “iron discipline” of school life but enjoyed books.

He often accompanied his father on trips to the Hancock County courthouse. There, he observed the manners and mores of country society – as well as the countrified dialect he later used in his poetry.

Leaving school at age 16, Riley first attempted to read law in his father’s office. However, James was possessed of wanderlust and turned to another pursuit, art.

He and some other youths – which he dubbed “The Graphics” – traveled the Indiana countryside as sign and house painters.

Blind Painter

In those days – before radio, golf, tennis, bridge, movies or television, practical jokes were welcome entertainment.

On one commission to paint a barn, he sent his cohorts into town to urge folks to go see “a blind sign-painter at work.” A crowd rushed out to see such an improbable spectacle.

Riley pretended to be sightless, always staring straight ahead. He tipped over a can of paint and wandered about, arms outstretched, trying to find the ladder.

Once reaching the top – plunging a leg now and then when missing a rung – he leaned precariously and began painting a beautiful free-form display – never turning his head.

Gawking onlookers were evenly divided about authenticity of the blind painter. History does not say whether Riley’s accomplices passed a hat for contributions, but there are some who believe they did.

Riley composed a poem in 1872 under the pen name “Jay Whit” and submitted it to the Indianapolis Saturday Mirror that published it. There was no monetary compensation, but the thrill of publication was enough. .

He became advance agent for a traveling wagon show that required him to act, sing and contact local newspapers for publicity. This, and his published poem, enamored him with journalism (poor fellow). He accepted a job with the Greenfield newspaper in 1873.

Birth Of Hoax

Riley joined the staff of the Anderson Democrat four years later. He continued to write poems that were reprinted in other newspapers throughout central Indiana. However, he was frustrated that his poems were rejected by eastern periodicals.

He concluded that for a poem to become popular it had to be written by “a genius known to fame.” What happened next is delightfully recorded in great detail by the website jameswhitcombriley.com.

Riley conceived an elegant hoax. He enlisted support from three friends – William H. Croan, editor of Riley’s newspaper, the Anderson Democrat; William Kinnard, a journalist on the competing Anderson Herald; and Mrs. D.M. Jordan, a local contributor to the Richmond Independent.

The conspirators decided on the Kokomo Dispatch as the newspaper to enlist in their practical joke. Riley wrote the editor of that paper, Oscar Henderson:

* * *

“Dear Sir. I write to ask a rather curious favor of you. The dull times worry me, and I yearn for something to stir things from their comatose condition. Trusting to find you of like inclination, I ask your confidence and assistance.

“This idea has been haunting me: I will prepare a poem – carefully imitating the style of some popular American poet deceased.

“You may ‘give it to the world for the first time’ through the columns of your paper – prefacing it, in some ingenious manner, with the assertion that the original mss was found in the album of an old lady living in your town and in the handwriting of the poet imitated, together with signatures etc. etc.

“You can fix the story, only be sure to clinch it so as to defy scrutiny of the most critical lens.

“If we succeed -- and I think sheer audacity sufficient capital to assure that end – and after ‘working up’ the folks and smiling over the encomiums of the press -- don’t you know we will then ‘rise up William Riley 2’ and bust our literal bladder before a bewildered and enlightened world!!!

“I write you this in all earnestness and confidence, trusting you will favor the project with your valuable assistance. It will be obvious to you why I do not use our paper here.

“Should you fall in with the plan, write me at once. I will prepare and send the poem in time for your issue of this week.

“Hoping for an early and favorable response, I am, very truly yours, J.W. Riley.” * * *

The expression “rise up William Riley” referred to an old Irish ballad well known in rural America -- “The Life of Riley.” It begins: “Rise up, William Riley, you must appear this day. The lady’s oath will hang you, or else set you free.”

The title became popular in an 1890 vaudeville song about indulgent things William Riley would do if he inherited a million dollars.

Aftermath

Editor Henderson agreed to the hoax. Riley dashed off a long poem titled “Leonainie” that bemoaned the tragic loss of a sweetheart -- in the style of Poe’s “Lenore.”

Upon publication in the Kokomo Dispatch, Henderson sent copies to all the leading, eastern periodicals – including Scribner’s, the literary giant of that time.

All the papers published the hoax, but generally without comment or with doubt of authenticity. Some papers hailed it as a great discovery. Scribner's withheld opinion until it could see the “found” document.

The conspirators -- somewhat disappointed by the reaction – then undertook a scheme to forge Poe’s handwriting previously published by Scribner’s.

They wrote out “Leonainie” in pale blue ink on the flyleaf of an old dictionary -- to insure aged paper – and sent it off. Scribner’s promptly denounced the forgery.

Kinnard, one of the conspirators and reporter for the competing Anderson Herald, revealed the hoax to his paper. Before the weekly Herald could reveal the hoax with an apology, news of Riley’s authorship spread throughout the county.

The Kokomo Tribune – rival to Henderson’s Dispatch – got into print first with a long denunciation of the “stunt.”

Riley blunted the criticism with a parody of his “Leonanie” as “Leoloony” – along with an explanation of the original intent to expose myopic literary giants.

Indeed, he wrote two parodies – one for the Kokomo Tribune and another for the Indianapolis Saturday Herald. The confessions were so witty, they were reprinted approvingly by the eastern publications he had sought to dupe.

Riley’s paper informed him that “his services were no longer required.”

No matter, he had become famous. He was hired by the Indianapolis Journal. Thereafter, he earned success and immortality as a poet and public speaker for his perceptive, sometimes witty, observations of contemporary American life.

His poems were collected into books and the sales made him the richest writer of his day. Among his thousands of poems are “Little Orphan’t Annie,” “The Raggedy Man” and “When The Frost On The Pumpkin.”

He was deeply in love with Nellie Millikan, daughter of his old school teacher. However, she married George Cooley. Riley called on the Cooley’s frequently ----- even when Cooley was frequently out of town on advertising business.

It is apparent from the frequent letters between Riley and Nellie that their relationship was deep but platonic. She died at an early age, and Riley was despondent for the rest of his life.

Riley wooed several women throughout the rest of his life but none would marry him – citing his fondness of alcohol. He lived throughout his life at a boarding house in Indianapolis.

The Nation’s Poet died of a stroke on July 22, 1916. More than 35,000 people filed past his casket as it lay in state under the dome of the Indiana State Capitol.

July 10, 2005

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