Dan Dorcas is one of fiction’s earliest Black detectives and one of the relatively few Black characters to be the featured hero of a 19th century dime novel. A formidable figure of notable courage and ability, Dan could be considered one of the first Black action heroes of American popular culture. But he also was created by a white colonel who fought on the side of the South in the Civil War and was supportive of white people called “the Lost Cause” after it. This explains, in part, the profoundly troubling title of the 1881 dime novel in question, Darkie Dan, the Colored Detective.
Written by Prentiss Ingraham, a prolific author of dime novels for Beadle & Adams, the leading publisher of such material, the work has largely been ignored by popular culture historians. The title alone is enough to make one turn away in embarrassment or anger. Yet the reality that the work exists at all, straddling the uneasy territory of a heroic Black man and an embrace of a culture of white supremacy, makes Dan Dorcas a compelling if fundamentally flawed character ripe for consideration. There have already been a few articles exploring this in publications like Dime Novel Round-Up but relatively little online.
As a white man discussing a white writer’s treatment of a Black character, I strive to do so with both intellectual integrity and humility. And I invite others, especially Black readers of this article, to email me their perspective on Dan, given the near total absence of dialogue regarding the character on the internet.
But first a summary of the plot, relevant passages, and the background of the novel itself.
THE DIME NOVEL’S OPENING PAGES
A pack of wolves is chasing after a young (white) girl on horseback.
“Dan! Dan!” the girl cries out. “Save me! Oh! Save me!”
“I will,” the young Black cowboy replies, grabbing a gun and mounting an Indian pony to ride into the fray. The wolves turn their famished fury on the 15-year-old youth and his horse, which allows the girl to ride to safety.
A fierce melee ensues. Five wolves meet their maker causing the rest of the pack turn and flee. The narrative provides a description of the aftermath and provides the dime novel with its featured (and only) image.
“Upon the ground lay the little horse they had dragged down, and upon his body stood the negro boy, the stock of his gun broken off, and the barrels grasped in his hand, the proud victor of the scene … He was a hero of heroes, though his face was black, and the brand of slavery was upon his brow.”
Overwhelmed with gratitude, the girl’s father and Dan’s “master”, Fenton Delamere declares Dan free.
Here the novel slips back into a racist trope of the Old South. Dan says he doesn’t want to be free, desiring only to live with Delamere and his daughter Gertrude at their plantation home, the ill-named Idlerest.
“Then you shall live with us, Dan,” Delamere replies. “But you are no longer a slave, remember that! … I will make you my especial valet.” (p. 2)
By the second, text-dense page of the story, Dan has saved Fenton Delamere on two different occasions from the machinations of a sinister relative name Oscar Delamere, but precisely how they’re related remains a mystery for most of the story. And Oscar has a son nearly as vile as he named Carlyon. Oscar schemes to rob Fenton of his wealth, turning him into a beggar.
“And his daughter?” Carlyon asks in one scene.
“Shall be your wife if you wish it, though I prefer to degrade her.”
The villain’s son warns his father that Fenton can be a dangerous man if he feels himself wronged.
“I fear that accursed shadow of his far more,” Oscar counters.
“You mean the negro?”
“Yes, Darkie Dan,” and this is first time in the narrative that Dan is so called. His friends and allies never do. “One day that fellow shall be my slave, and then my time shall come for persecuting him.” (p. 3)
Villains, indeed! But it is the villain’s name for Dan that provides the story with its title.
So begins Darkie Dan, the Colored Detective, or, The Mississippi Mystery: A Romance of the Sunny South. With the action set prior to the Civil War in a “sunny South” that embraces slavery, the novel is problematic at its core from the start. That said, the heroic Dan deserves further attention—with a raft of caveats solidly in mind. Bettering a pack of wolves is only the beginning of his adventures. Before the dime novel concludes, Dan will have donned a suit of armor and will be referred to as the Black Knight!
The LITERARY ORIGINS of DARKIE DAN
Dime Novels may rightly be considered the origin of America’s popular culture. They began appearing in the 1860s, providing cheap entertainment for an increasingly literate American public.
There have been a handful of major Black characters, heroes of a sort, in our country’s popular fiction prior to Dan Dorcas including: Uncle Tom (a more heroic and complicated figure than often assumed, whose portrayal devolved with time); Sam Johnson, “the Negro Detective”; Maum Guinea; and the Denver Doll’s associate, Fitz Walter August “Walt” Christie. I hope to have articles on all four as part of this website’s exploration of ethnically and gender diverse fictional heroes, but in the meantime consider clicking on the link at the end of this article to my “Dime Novel Heroines” post for information on the last two figures.
Darkie Dan: The Colored Detective was written by General Prentiss Ingraham (1843-1904) and published by Beadle & Adams, part of their massive Dime Novel “library.” Its literary inventory was available by mail order and as such remained in print for years. No stranger to adventure, Ingraham was born in Mississippi and served in the Texas Cavalry in the final years of the Civil War. He later would fight in the Mexican Revolution and other conflicts. It wasn’t until 1869 that he began writing dime novels, ultimately pounding out some 600 of them. Darkie Dan was just one of them, written in the middle of Ingraham’s career, but perhaps the most complicated and fraught of his endeavors. That said, the novel was still reprinted in 1902, but not as often as many other dime novels of the era.
DAN: FIVE YEARS LATER
Five years pass. Dan is now 20, described as “a tall, fine-looking negro, with clean cut features, full of determination and spirit, and the form of an Apollo … grown into a splendid specimen of manhood.” But once again, the biases of the time intrude, as the author feels compelled to add that Dan is “polite, respectful to all, but firm as a rock in duty to his master and those he loved.” (p.3)
Nor does Dan still speak with the stereotypical dialect he displayed at the beginning of the story. The narrative notes that Dan’s “association with refinement in his master’s home, had gotten him out of the broken style of speaking so common among the ‘fieldhands’ of the South.” (p. 5)
Meanwhile a new (or is he?) villain appears: Don Del Morte, a gambler named the King of Diamonds in part for his penchant for wearing them. How evil is he? When someone called him the devil, he replied, “Thank you. I am honored by the comparison.” (p. 13)
The King of Diamonds wins Delamere’s fortune in a card game, using marked cards, but not before Dan saves Delamere’s life one more time, grabbing the villain by the neck with a grip of iron. A duel between Del Morte and Delamere is proposed, and Delamere, who considers Dan his “good friend,” asks him to be his second. Del Morte’s second, Carlyon Norman, is outraged by the perceived slight of a Black man serving as an equal in the same role as he. The duel ends with Delamere’s death and the King of Diamonds promptly knocks out the grieving Dan with the butt of his pistol.
ROMANTIC INTERESTS EMERGE
In the meantime, readers have been introduced to Gertrude Delamere’s maid Una, with whom Dan has an affectionate teasing relationship. She is 17, and the narrative informs us that “her darkly-bronzed face and jet-black, waving hair proclaimed her Quadroon blood. Her form was slender and elegant.” Quadroon was a term to indicate a person of mixed race, specifically a person “one-fourth Black.” (p. 7)
Back in the main plot, the King of Diamonds has bound Dan in his home, announcing his desire to make Dan his personal slave. He taunts Dan, telling him that Delamere failed to give Dan the paperwork that would prove he was a free man.
But Teresa, “a mulattress, with fine dark eyes, glossy hair, and a voluptuous form” in the villain’s employ, takes a liking to his captive. A free woman, she is even given a brief back story with the added detail that she enjoys reading her employer’s books when he’s away.
But when Dan asks for her help, she balks, fearing for her safety if that help is discovered.
“Release my arms, and he shall never harm you,” Dan says in earnest, and the narrative informs us that “a dangerous light flashed into the eyes of Darkie Dan.”
But just as Teresa frees Dan, the King of Diamonds returns. Dan, weak from his captivity, is only able to temporarily knock his foe unconscious. Dan picks up Teresa, who has fainted, and carries her to a sofa.
“Go with me,” Dan tells Teresa in earnest, “for it is best.”
“Marry you?” Teresa exclaims, her dark eyes opening wide. “Oh! How forward you are.” (p. 9).
But Dan demurs, only wanting to take her to a place of safety with Una’s family.
Worth noting here, ethnic characters in 19th century literature are rarely given romantic subplots. Dan Dorcas is relative unique in that regard.
DISGUISES and DETECTIVE WORK
Not long thereafter, Dan is “arrested” for murder while in disguise as an old man by supposed police officers who are actually in the employ of the King of Diamonds. He soon finds himself bound by the villain once again. But this time Dan has seen to it to conceal three small files up his sleeve! With days-long perseverance he frees himself. But to his horror he discovers that one of the King of Diamond’s men, posing as a physician, has administered a lethal dose of poison to Teresa. (p. 12)
In the meantime, a wealthy Creole by the name of Leon Martelle has fallen in love with Gertrude. But Gertrude is enamored of Carlyon for reasons too tangled to explain. Dan once again adopts his disguise as an elderly Black man to investigate Carlyon’s past and learns Carylon was married and presumed dead by his supposed widow. And in that same disguise he also rescues Martelle from two pistol-wielding thieves who are bewildered by how swiftly an old Black man thrashes them!
As Dan slowly unravels the villainy afoot, Martelle praises new friend’s powers of reason, declaring that Dan would “make a lawyer of lawyers” (p. 15). It is here that Dan’s role as popular fiction’s first Black detective is underscored. Dan also saves Delamere’s adult son Frank from a knifing on a riverboat at the hands of one of Del Morte’s men. Twisting the underling’s blade into the underling’s gut, Dan kills him even as both men plunge into the river, disappearing beneath the churning water. Luckily Dan proves to be an expert swimmer among his many other talents.
In the meantime, the reader learns Del Morte is actually Oscar Delamere (no great surprise, to be sure), the half-brother of Fenton whom he killed out of anger over the fact that he was well born and Oscar was not. Oscar also claims that the mother of Gertrude and Frank was actually their Octoroon nurse, her children raised by Fenton and his childless wife.
The climax of the drama comes to pass at a masked ball, where only the crème de la creme of society of New Orleans attend. Don Del Morte/Oscar Delamer comes dressed as an American naval officer. Knowing that Leon Martelle has spent thousands of dollars on a costume of jet-black armor, Del Morte plans his murder.
The self-styled Black Knight soon arrives, “his tall form, commanding appearance, and superb armor, with the helmet shaded by an immense black plume, attract(ing) universal attention” (p. 20). Believing the Black Knight to be Martelle, the King of DIamonds challenges him to a duel. To even the playing field, the Black Knight removes his body armor, retaining only his helmet. The outcome of the conflict is not as Del Morte expected. His opponent is not the wealthy idler he expected.
“With a strength that was irresistible, and quickness of movement that was amazing,” the narrative informs us, “(the Black Knight) beat down the gambler’s guard, and drove his sword into his body to the hilt. Catching him in his arms before he fell, he cried excitedly, while he threw aside his helmet. ‘Hold on, Mr. Oscar Delamere! You shall not die until you see who has slain you.’”
It is Dan, of course. “I have avenged my poor master’s death,” Dan exclaims, “and all that you made me suffer.”
But the villain is already dead. Dan goes to a gaming table and picks up a deck of cards, spreading them over his body, all the cards that is save one. On the king of diamonds, Dan writes, “Killed in a duel. A fitting end for the King of Diamonds” and places the card on the scoundrel’s forehead. (p. 21)
WRAPPING UP LOOSE ENDS
There is only one more wrong for Dan to right, the impending marriage of Gertrude Delamere and the villain’s son. Just as the ceremony is to begin, Dan strides in, declaring Carlyon already married and gesturing to his “widow” as proof. Humiliated, Carlyon kills himself.
In the weeks that follow Leon Martelle marries Gertrude and her brother Frank decides to join them on their honeymoon in Europe. And Dan marries Una, Gertrude’s maid. And soon to depart across the Atlantic, the new, youthful lord of Idlerest “left (Dan) in full charge of the plantation, well knowing how thoroughly he could be trusted.”
Lest the reader feel the established social order entirely upended, the last paragraph of the story lessens the impact of this somewhat subversive story.
“As for Darkie Dan, he followed his master’s fortunes through the long years of battling for the Lost Cause, in which Frank Delamere rose to the rank of general and won great fame, and refusing to meddle in politics (italics mine), he devotes himself to cotton planting, and today is one of the ‘shining lights’ of his race, who little dream(t) what a story calm-faced, dignified Daniel Dorcas could tell of the Mississippi Mystery, and the days when he was the Black Nemesis.” (p. 21)
The Black Nemesis is what Dan is called on several occasions by the narrative. It is a more fitting heroic name than the Black Knight, which was only a disguise utilized for one night.
THE PROBLEMATIC SUBTEXT of DARKIE DAN
“Darkie” Dan was one of the seemingly more sympathetic portrayals of a Black hero in dime novels, admittedly a low bar. Maum Guinea, the first dime novel, was more so, but didn’t adhere to the action-packed narrative typical of the genre. Black characters and their stories were rarely elevated, their presence in dime novels–if they were present at all–limited to so-called comic relief or brutish villainous turns that were relatively easily turned aside by white heroes. Even with those caveats, the deeply problematic aspects of the text are impossible to ignore and represent toxic cultural attitudes prevalent in the 1880s South.
It is important to explicitly highlight some of these story elements.
First and foremost is Dan Dorcas’s nickname. While no sympathetic character in the novel ever refers to the hero as “Darkie Dan,” Dan himself acknowledges that he is “known as Darkie Dan.” He seems to accept the slur as part of his social identity.
And when Dan is offered his freedom, his first reaction is to reject it in a desire to remain with his “master’s” family. This is a common trope that serves to rationalize slavery as something Black people would choose.
Even once Dan is free, he remains in a subservient role as a valet and continues to refer to his employer, and later his employer’s son, as “master.”
The author also goes out of his way to point out that Dan is “calm-faced” and “respectful” in his demeanor, which can suggest a certain submissiveness in white society, at least when he is not decisively taking action against clearly antisocial white men.
Even when considering Dan’s heroic actions, most of them are in the service of white people. It is only in the killing of the main villain of the piece that he acknowledges that doing so is vengeance for both the slaying of his “master” but also his own mistreatment.
Furthermore, Dan shows no interest in the ensuring the freedom of the remaining 300 slaves on the plantation, “refusing to meddle in politics,” which may be a succinct way of saying he didn’t make waves.
As such, as written by Ingraham, many of Dan’s exemplary qualities can nonetheless be taken as an unacknowledged acquiescence to the systemic and racist status quo.
Given all of that, and it’s a lot, is it still valid to elevate the qualified positives in Dan’s portrayal?
POSITIVE ASPECTS of DAN’S CHARACTER
Dan Dorcas is a relative rarity among Black characters in dime novels in being given a starring role and finding his name in the title, albeit as “Darkie” Dan.
He is described in positive terms throughout the text, being called variously described as handsome, possessing an Apollo-like physique (though this alone was not uncommon in Black characters of the era), of good character, intelligent, analytical, clever, courageous, loyal, and exceptionally determined.
Dan is also the realtively rare Black character in 19th century popular fiction not to speak in dialect, except when in disguise. As one character put it, Dan speaks “like a gentleman” and has only the slightest sign of dialect, on a couple of occasions replacing v’s with b’s.
While Dan refers to his employer as “master,” his employer refers to him as a friend, and in a death-bed plea asks him to look after the interests of his now adult children. And, at story’s end, when the white owner of the plantation leaves for Europe for a time, he leaves Dan in charge of the massive operation.
While Dan tends to be deferential to “good” white people, he is willing to take decisive physical action against “bad” ones. The villains of the piece constantly are incensed at what they perceive as his arrogance in assuming he can be treated as their equal and unsuccessfully hope to return him to slave status. The fact that he kills two villains during the story, but obscures his role in those deaths, indicates he is far from the passive and even naïve Uncle Tom. The text also indicates that Dan recognizes the need to keep his justifiable, if lethal actions from legal authorities, who he knows would not give any weight to his version of events.
It is also worth noting that the author subtly calls the racial identity of some of the ostensibly “white” characters into question. Leon Martelle is Creole, which suggests he may be of mixed “race” himself. And if the declaration of Del Morte is to be believed, Gertrude and Frank may be the offspring of their father and a mixed-race woman. Thought of in these terms, and the conventional racial categories of the era, almost every sympathetic character in the dime novel is actually non-white.
In addition, in a rarity for non-white characters in dime novels, Dan is given the opportunity (albeit briefly) for a romantic life. Taking Teresa to a presumed place of safety and away from the tyranny of Del Morte is one instance of him acting on behalf of a non-white character. That “voluptuous” character is clearly attracted to him and mistakenly thinks he is proposing marriage when he entreats her to come with him. (Though this also may be an example of sexualizing mixed-race women.) And another female character, the maid of Delamere’s daughter, marries Dan at the end of the story.
Finally, while there never was a sequel to his story, the elements were in place for one. Dan Dorcas, the Black Nemesis, had all the heroic attributes of the reoccurring detectives of the dime novel era.
SUMMING UP THE “COLORED DETECTIVE”
So, in summary, there are profound problems with the text’s embrace of a racialized status quo even as Dan is given a wealth of positive attributes for readers of all ethnicities to embrace.
Just who Prentiss Ingraham’s intended audience for his dime novel is hard to discern. His portrayal of Dan Dorcas, who regularly humiliates (and on two occasions kills) racist white men, seems ill suited for most Southern readers of the era. At the same time, one suspects Ingraham’s embrace of the “Sunny South” and much of what it entailed would have alienated most prospective Black and progressive white audiences.
In the end, it seems likely Ingraham’s authorial intentions were twofold. One was simpy trying to find a novel spin on the increasingly crowded field of detective heroes. There were women detectives, dandy detectives, cross-dressing detectives, Indian detectives, Jewish detectives, etc. Why not a Black one? But in crafting a Black hero, Ingraham clearly staked out the limits of what a Black hero might do. Beat up white scoundrels yes, but challenge the system of white dominance in the South, through politics or activism, no. Incremental progress in the portrayal of Black characters, perhaps, but it remained poisoned progress at that.
INTO THE 20TH CENTURY
Problematic portrayals of Black characters for predominantly white audiences persist well into the 20th century and even into the present one. The interested reader may want to explore characters I hope to discuss on these pages like the offensive stereotype of Florian Slappey, whose adventures I was surprised to learn were a regular feature of the extremely popular Saturday Evening Post, and the more optimistic evolution of Lothar (Mandrake the Magician’s servant and later partner) as examples.
It isn’t until the rise of Black-owned newspapers geared towards meeting the needs of a Black readership that we begin to see Black heroes that can be embraced with minimal caveats, such as Agent Smith and Venus Johnson and Reuel Briggs. For more on the featured fictional heroes in early 20th century Black newspapers, there is the excellent book Black Pulp: Genre Fiction in the Shadow of Jim Crow by Brooks E. Hefner.
And if you found this foray into the history of dime novels, you might also enjoy my article on Dime Novel Heroines.
Mark Carlson-Ghost
Reference
Ingraham, Prentiss (1882). Darkie Dan, the Colored Detective, or, The Mississippi Mystery: A Romance of the Sunny South. New York: Beadle & Adams. Retrieved from
Johannsen Collection. Rare Books and Special Collections, Northern Illinois University.
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