Life, 1903-01-15 · page 5 of 20
Life — January 15, 1903 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Charge of the Four Hundred" This satirical poem and illustration mock a chaotic automobile parade down Fifth Avenue in New York City. The image depicts early motorcars in collision or disorder, with occupants gesturing wildly amid smoke and confusion. The satire appears to ridicule the reckless behavior of automobile owners—referred to as "the Four Hundred," a term for New York's social elite. The poem emphasizes the danger and spectacle: vehicles "smashing the people there," pedestrians and police confused, goggles flying. The title echoes "Charge of the Light Brigade," treating wealthy motorists' dangerous driving as a mock-heroic folly. The joke targets both the arrogance of early automobile owners and the genuine hazard these vehicles posed to pedestrians in crowded urban streets.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ETALK a Block, halfa block, Half a bloc All in their ‘motobiles Rode the Four Hundred. ricard!” the owners shout, “ Racing-car! Runabout !" Into Fifth Avenue Rode the Four Hundred. onward, ricard!”* the owners said. Was there a man dismay'd ? Not though the chauffeurs knew Some one had biundered. to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to kill or die. ‘Theirs The Charge of the Four Hundred. Into Fifth Avenue Rode the Four Hundred. Tunnels to right of them, Tunnels to left of them, Subways beneath them Volley'd and thunder'd Stormed at with shout and yell, Boldly they rode and well. Into Fifth Avenue, While rang the chauffeur’s bell, Rode the Four Hundred. shed all their goggles bare, Flashed as they cleft the air, Smashing the people there, Charging the people, while All the town wondered, Plunged in the gasolene smoke, Right down the street they broke ; Copper and pedestrian Reel'd from their lightning-stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd. ‘Then they rode back again, Rode the Four Hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the town wondered. Proud of the charge they made, Proud of themselves, they said, Were the Four Hundred. J.C. D. Music. TL MIE musical honors stilleling to Boston ter- ribly light operas hereabouts it is safe to say that all tastes in music can be satisfied in New York. als, concerts, grand opera, light opera—some of it too volatile to mention—are all abundant. But it should be recorded to our credit that we manifest a In spite of the prevalence of s Rec appreciation of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. These audiences are not only the most intelligent musically, but the the hall. Both in size and quality they are a merited tribute to Mr. Gericke and his splendid organization. I¥ some men told all they knew the silence would be oppressive. OMMERCE is the evangelist of in- ternational peace. A Test. Yes, darling, for your sake, I would meet death in any form. Sue: Will you ride on the Elevated from five to six P, M? comicbooks.com